a modern cotton holiday

For the past decade or so, my family has not celebrated Thanksgiving (or Christmas) on their designated days.

Work schedules.  Travel.  Availability.  All have conspired to keep us from setting down together on a day designated by some stranger as the "correct" day.  But we eventually get around to celebrating.

And our celebrations verge on Norman Rockwell.  Somewhat.  With Thanksgiving in February.  Or Christmas in May.

This year we are in danger of being labelled as "conformists."  Thanksgiving dinner will be on Friday.  In Bend.

On Wednesday, my brother and his wife (the two people who induced me to retire to Mexico) drove over to retrieve my niece from Oregon State -- and picked me up in Salem in the process. 

I am glad Darrel was driving.  As beautiful as the Cascades are during the day, driving through mountains at night in the snow is not my favorite pastime.

So, even though we will not be joining you tomorrow to thank God for the bounties he has bestowed on us, we will join in on a second round on Friday.

I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving.  No matter where you are.