Gobble. Gobble.

As the years go by and I get older, Thanksgiving has made a move to nearly overtake Christmas as my favorite holiday. There is the obvious love of food that comes into play but even more than that I love how it is such a universally American holiday. No religious considerations needed, and if you don’t count Black Friday, it has not yet been corrupted by commercialism. Putting aside the varied false impressions of the Pilgrims and Indians we’ve been fed since infancy, I think that its a tradition steeped in good intentions. It’s about giving thanks for what we have and who we are. I love how people open their doors and set their tables for anyone without a home to go to for the day, cobbling together families of real family, friends, neighbors, and sometimes even strangers. And while we should always keep in mind what we have to be grateful for, I appreciate this day to remind me to reflect and say thanks. And then of course there is the stuffing. I love this day because I get to eat ridiculous amounts of stuffing–Grandpa Tworek-style. And while I know everyone thinks his or her family stuffing is the best, I promise that without a doubt ours is better. Promise.


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