My responsibility this year for Thanksgiving was the sweet potatoes, made sweeter by marshmallows, and the pineapple cheese ball. They both turned out well, and I enjoyed them both. I think though, at my age, I prefer the sweet potatoes. It has nothing to do with the marshmallows, either. My little sister made the cheese ball with the olives. Not bad. But not my favorite.
In theory dinner was to be at 1:30 p.m. Of course things ran late, but they didn't feel late. We had our family devotional where we sang a few hymns and my father read portions of Psalms. I love "Now Thank We All Our God." There is a comma in there somewhere, I think. Like "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" which you think is comma'd after ye, but is not. Tricky.
I forgot to have cranberry sauce this year. I had a nice portion of turkey, potatoes in all their varieties, and green beans. The boring store bought from a can kind, enhanced with bacon. And which I like, in a very non-gourmet way, much better than the fresh green beans. I never eat the stuffing.
At a certain point in the day, all my siblings were there in the house at the same time. Rare these days, with all the in-laws to juggle.
And after the dinner was all cleared, and small children had been gathered up and taken home, I walked around with a book of W.S. Merwin's poetry and read selections to anyone who would listen.
I should have brought home a second slice of pumpkin pie. I forgot about leftovers on my way out the door.