Memories of Thanksgivings past, somehow mine include very few of large family gatherings around the dinner table, and a number of rather unique experiences.....including 'riding my pony through the draw, in those Oklahoma Hills where I was born' (Woody Guthrie lyrics)........as well as being part of a bucket brigade, and learning how to fight grass fires with a wet blanket......Oklahoma in November is grass fire country, and in the country everyone turns out to help in whatever way they can......There was the year that I spent Thanksgiving in a small town in western OK with my fiancée and his parents. We were in our truck and had our dog, a heeler/Aussie cross, and the best dog ever, with us. We were frequently different places without a fenced yard and so Alex learned to stay on the truck or car, when he wasn't in the house. He was used to going everywhere with me, so my young future brother-in-law took him and fiancée along to go feed his hogs at the FFA farm. They got back after dark an hour or so later, and I said, "Where's Alex (my dog)".......at which point a panicked look came over their faces.....they'd forgotten they'd taken Alex with them, and had left him at the farm. We had no idea if Alex would have tried to follow the truck back, would have stayed there or what to think. They both ran out, jumped in the truck and were gone about another 30 minutes....some of the longest in my life......but thankfully came back with Alex safe and sound......

There was the year that I was lunging my young horse, and didn't happen to have a lunge whip (translation encouragement to stay going around me in a circle on a long 'rein'), so was using a long slender branch that I found nearby. Maggie didn't like the encouragement that came from me waving the branch in her direction, so she kicked at it......and managed to break it.....undaunted, unimpressed, and not too smart, I continued......so she kicked again, and got me smack on the hand this time......breaking a finger or two.......I wasn't sure how much of my right (yes, that is the writing hand for me) hand was broken, so I spent a good part of the day after Thanksgiving in the Emergency Room.....

There was the year when we were supposed to take mashed potatoes to the family dinner, after working all day......our miniature donkey, Don Keyhotey, was turned out in a rather large lot. I volunteered to catch him, while the spouse volunteered to fix the taters.....

It was very cold and blustery that late afternoon, and for over an hour I chased, cajoled, and cursed little Don, trying to catch him. Things only got worse when the spouse came out laughing at my lack of success ........with just a touch of relief mingled with extreme furiousity.......I said, "I'll trade you, you catch him, and I'll do the potatoes"......

Another hour later, really neither of us was laughing.......and we still had no potatoes.....so thus started our new tradition of taking (gasp, many gasps from my readers some of whom read blogs about cooking, some of whom blog about cooking, and probably not many of whom have had a mini donkey named Don Keyhotey)......we broke down and made 'instant' mashed potatoes....

There are also the many years that I made the entire dinner myself, to serve to whomever I knew needed a place to go for dinner.......May your holidays be filled with laughter, and just the right amount of friends and family whether human, fur coated, or feathered.