"So Cath, how was YOUR Thanksgiving?" asks my Journal.
Staring at my keyboard, I start tapping out "Well, dear Journal, it hasn't happened yet but I'm hoping for the best - optomistic but prepared."
That's right, we haven't celebrated our "Day of Thanks" yet, but have all good intents of doing so today, in a few hours, down the shore in Belmar - at a restaurant. (For some reason that always sounded so sad to me - yet I'm in good spirits because it seems a good portion of us will make it there). "Who cares where?" say I !! Bring on the giblets.
Truth is, in this entangled deeply troubled family, with more troubles on the way, half of us are ill and the other half are becoming symptomatic of weird things. And we're all dysfunctional PTSD survivors. Nevertheless, I'm going into the fray with a smile yet knowing I'd need battle armour for some sibs, as they tend to see this day as an excuse to bring up old (very old) slights. Do hope they serve a ton of turkey, then everyone will be too busy eating to argue.
I'll tell you how the stuffing was.