Thanksgiving by Edgar Guest

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Gettin’ together to smile an’ rejoice,
An’ eatin’ an’ laughin’ with folks of your choice;
An’ kissin’ the girls an’ declarin’ that they
Are growin’ more beautiful day after day;
Chattin’ an’ braggin’ a bit with the men,
Buildin’ the old family circle again;
Livin’ the wholesome an’ old-fashioned cheer,
Just for awhile at the end of the year.

Greetings fly fast as we crowd through the door
And under the old roof we gather once more
Just as we did when the youngsters were small;
Mother’s a little bit grayer, that’s all.
Father’s a little bit older, but still
Ready to romp an’ to laugh with a will.
Here we are back at the table again
Tellin’ our stories as women an’ men.

Bowed are our heads for a moment in prayer;
Oh, but we’re grateful an’ glad to be there.
Home from the east land an’ home from the west,
Home with the folks that are dearest an’ best.

We are blessed!

A portion of a poem by Edgar Albert Guest (1881– 1959)

Prolific and gifted, artistic, optimistic, never ever a cynic, Edgar Albert Guest was the best lyric poet of his day.

For 30 years Edgar Albert Guest published a new poem every single day in the Detroit Free Press. More than 11,000 poems, over 20 volumes of poetry, and, for eleven years, a weekly radio broadcast!

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Turkey in a Cooker

e200_rightThank goodness Thanksgiving is over, the leftovers eaten, and life is back to normal.

Oh dear, did we just experience Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday? Has your holiday shopping begun?

I had hoped to travel to Dallas and join my siblings and their families for an extended Thanksgiving. But, things did not work out, and so my Thanksgiving was a small affair here at home. Nice, but Thanksgiving is not the same without brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, Southern cousins, and kids galore.

It’s quiet.

I missed out on the turkey prepared on the grill in a slow cooker. My brother-in-law, Bob, always cooks his turkey on the grill, real slow. He says his mom cooked it that way when he was growing up.

The turkey always turns out moist and tasty.

I won’t bore you with his recipe. You can find one online. But I will tell you about the experience. Mind you, I don’t chop the vegetables, prepare the bird, or do anything that would suggest that I am a cook. I am an eater, that is my job, and I take it seriously with multiple helpings of everything.

During the preparation, I move back and forth between the football games and the grill and catch up on old times, smelling the rich aroma of the steaming bird, making do on an olive and a celery stick.

The anticipation for next year’s bird is killing me.

Here’s hoping your Thanksgiving was wonderful.

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