Thanksgiving.  It’s hard holiday to beat for generosity and the mix of food, family, and fellowship.

There are some wise folks who choose Thanksgiving as their favorite holiday; and why not? An attitude of gratitude boosts everything about life to a higher level, positive and productive.

Oh, I know; particularly if you are a woman, you have spent the last week baking, planning, running to the grocery store – but, isn’t it wonderful to feel the wind in your face, to rise to the occasion – even to be thankful that you do not have to cook like this every day of the year?

As a child, I stood by and tried to help with the Thanksgiving Eve grinding of cranberries and stuffing of the turkey as promising aromas filled the kitchen. I learned how it must be done, by watching.  As a too young bride exiled to Germany, I was determined to keep up the tradition, though I bloodied my knuckled trying to grind cranberries on a cheese grater and had to remove all the racks in the apartment size oven just to roast a pint sized turkey in a two quart lasagna dish.

Later, I stood at a kitchen sink in Texas, flanked by my two younger children as we gathered and mixed all the necessary side dishes for meals shared with friends.  I not only enjoyed those years, I lived to write about them.

Over the years, we have feasted on small turkeys, large turkeys, smoked turkeys, bonus turkeys, food basket turkeys; turkeys roasted in a conventional oven, wood stove oven, motel oven, and even in a cast iron dutch oven over a campfire.

Last year Andrea was with me for Thanksgiving break.  Together we knocked out the pumpkin pies and then toted them to Grandma’s house and Kevin’s house for the feast.

For the past few years, I have been the spare tire, the single who brings a side-dish and  is welcome at the table anyway. My house is small and my work schedule changeable, so I greatly appreciate the hospitality. I will never forget the Thanksgiving in 2010 when I worked the register at Safeway until late afternoon. Throwing on my coat and rushing out the door to catch the bus, I was hailed in the parking lot by my cousin who tucked me into the jeep with his mother and took me home for a feast.

This year, the Thanksgiving spirit has been pervasive.  Facebook is littered daily with the confetti of thankfulness. Shoppers and store clerks alike seem to have entered into the spirit of the season.  Yesterday the bank teller transacted my deposit with a look of happy anticipation, “Are you cooking?”  she asked.  “Not this year.  Going home to Mama’s, “  I replied.  “And you?” “Yes, for twelve people,” she confided with delight. “I’ve got it all planned.  Happy Thanksgiving!”

Blessings on your day.  I’ve gotta run. I am expected across town with my sweet potato casserole.