When you are traveling and living out of a motel, Thanksgiving dinner is anticlimatical. And there are no leftovers for that cold plate of dressing at midnight or the dippy turkey sandwich in your brown paper lunch bag. So Saturday Hubby baked the turkey and today he created all the wonderful sides that make a Thanksgiving dinner something to be truly grateful for. And we ate. The boys ate wings. We ate breast meat. The boys crunched on dry leg meat. We savored cornbread dressing and the drippiest, most cinnamon candied sweet potatoes this side of the Mason Dixon line. Oh, my! The eats were good!
Then we laid around and listened to Christmas music and read our respective books / magazines / and half-watched the football games.
The Christmas spirit descended with the advent of holiday feasting, the music from the past week, and the myriad bags of Christmas presents littering the living room floor waiting to be packed for Huston. I feel happily, deliciously holiday-ish.
"It's a wonderful time of the year . . ."