I’m tempted to say that anyone who is reading blogs on Thanksgiving should be ashamed of him/herself. This is my favorite holiday, since it has resisted all attempts to commercialize it, unless you count the retailers opening on this sacred day to steal a March on Christmas.
This year we decided to have an as much of Connecticut Thanksgiving as we could. Our Turkey was born, lived and died in Connecticut. We had Connecticut beer and wine; the onions in our onion soup were raised in our garden; ditto the garlic; the apple pie was made from local apples (see below). While the tea came from who knows where, it was purchased from a Connecticut distributor. We did blow it on the cheese, since Connecticut farmers are now making great cheese.
I have a custom on Thanksgiving. My wife does most of the cooking, so I do most of the washing up. Lest anyone think the distribution of work is lopsided, let me hasten to say that we live in an old fashioned household-no dishwasher, and we use dishes and pots by the score. It’s all by hand, and it’s a lot less satisfying than cooking. However, I pass the time happily enough, listening to music, and always starting off with this song. There’s lots of Christmas song, but only one Thanksgiving song.
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