It’s not just the turkey

When getting dressed, my father put on his right sock, then his right shoe. Then his left sock and shoe. Then, AFTER he had on his socks and shoes, he put on his pants!

Never heard of such a thing? Neither had I. So I asked, “Daddy, why do you do that?” He replied, “So I don’t wrinkle my pants.” And that was that.
Made perfect sense.

Made perfect sense IF you wore trousers that were wide all the way down in order to accommodate either the wing tip shoes or his favorites – Hush Puppies. So now you know why my slender and perfectly proportioned father wore wide, maybe even baggy - though well tailored - pants.

I love my memories. And I love writing them, hoping that you will find humor, pathos, intelligence, commonality, twist of fate, empathy, sweetness or drollness or whatever else I have tried to convey. For THESE – my memories and your willingness to read them now and then – I am thankful.

Hope we all have great gobbles and are able to count our blessings today and ignore all the rest – if just for today. And if the head-in-the-sand-for-a-day approach works to bring us some moments of peace – good. Then there will be room to also be thankful for warm homemade cranberry sauce made with orange juice instead of water, with bits of orange peel shaved right into it. Zesty. Yum.