Hi Ginger and thank you for having me on your blog today. Thanksgiving is upon us, a time to give thanks. It’s easy to get caught up in the holiday madness and forget what the holiday represents. Did you start planning the menu for the perfect meal? What are you waiting for? The clock is ticking.
Time to rush off to the market, buy the plumpest turkey to please Grandma, Aunt Tillie, that dear but hard to please mother-in-law, the hubby, kids, grand kids and everyone in between. Butterball or Honeysuckle? Fresh or frozen? How many pounds? Why oh why can’t I remember who likes mashed potatoes and who hates sweet potatoes? Will the strawberry jello set this year or melt into the green bean casserole and form a jaundice ball of something inedible? Oh dear, what kind of cranberry sauce was it that refused to roll out of the can, the one I swore I’d never buy again if my life depended on it? What would my guests think if I put them through that fiasco again. By time Uncle Chuck finally whittled it out with a sledge hammer, it lost its appeal. Pumpkin or apple pie? What exactly is minced meat pie? Does anyone really know?
Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle. No matter how much fretting goes into the preparation of the Thanksgiving meal, the best laid plans…
When the holiday madness gets to me, I always think of my cousin’s ‘Perfect Thanksgiving’ when she lived in California. It was a warm sunny day, the amber leaves of autumn rustling with every gentle breeze. The family was gathered around the beautifully set table, the wine was poured in the best goblets, the twelve-pound turkey was baked to a crisp golden brown, and all the trimmings were as picture-perfect as the rest of the holiday setting.. The family had just joined hands to give thanks for the mouth-watering meal when a loud buzzing broke into their revelry. The man next door was having his tree cut down. Annoyed but determined not to let the loud hissing ruin the perfect holiday, once again, they joined hands. Once more, the prayer of thanks was drown out. The third time was not a charm. The tree crashed through the dining room window, splitting the table in half, smashing the turkey and all the trimmings to smithereens.
Fortunately, no one was hurt. Much later over pizza and beer, they gave thanks and counted their many blessings. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle. It’s not about the brand or size of the turkey, it’s not about the jello or cranberry sauce or pie. It’s about family and giving thanks. Take time to count your many blessings and appreciate the loved ones at your table. Happy Thanksgiving!
Sharon Donovan lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her family. Prior to the loss of her vision, she was a legal secretary for the Court of Common Pleas where she prepared cases for judges in Domestic Relations. Painting was her passion. When she could no longer paint, she began attending creative writing classes and memoir workshops. After a long and winding road, a new dream arose. Today, instead of painting her pictures on canvas, Sharon paints her pictures with words.
Sharon writes stories of inspiration and suspense. She has certificates in business and medical transcription. Echo of a Raven, a narrative non-fiction about her struggles with diabetic retinopathy, received a CTRR award for outstanding writing, and The Claddagh Ring is a 2009 CAPA nominee for best inspirational of the year. Mask of the Betrayer was voted book of the week at LASR and its video by Triad Productions was a second place winner at You Gotta Read. Other books by Sharon Donovan are Touched by an Angel, Lasting Love, Her Biggest Fan and Charade of Hearts. You can visit Sharon at
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