Happy Turkey Day...

Gobble... Gobble...

I'm going to NC with the fam for Thanksgiving this year. It won't be the same, hasn't been the same since my grandmother died, but it's important, I think, to go. I remember Thanksgiving was such a great time when I was a kid... we'd go up to my grandmother's house in NC and the whole family would be there. We'd eat ourselves stupid and sit around talking about the things that had happened over the course of the year. My grandmother would always make her chestnut dressing from scratch, and my god, it was good. After food, us kids would go play outside in the crisp November air. My grandmother lived on the side of a mountain (literally!), so we would be playing in this huge front yard with the Blue Ridge Mountains all around us, anywhere you looked was mountains. There was always a smell of wood burning, because the old folks across the road had a woodstove. Everything was brown and crimson and yellow and orange and breathtakingly beautiful. I miss being small. It was a lot easier to be wonderstruck. Now I have to work at it... but at least I succeed... well, sometimes, anyway.