As has become our custom in recent years, the Family Robbo will be heading to my brother’s house in North Carolina for the holiday festivities, there to eat, drink, gossip, drink, argue, drink, watch football and drink, the feast hopefully being capped off with the arrangement for the gels to have a sleepover with their cousins while Mrs. Robbo and I sneak back to the hotel on our own for the night.  (Lest you think we’re unfairly taking advantage, I should note that we reciprocate when Brother & Family come up for Easter.) 

I will confess that although I am very fond of Thanksgiving as a holiday, I take no especial pleasure in the traditional menu.  It’s not that I dislike  turkey dinner (except, of course, for the green beans), but I certainly don’t put it in the same class of culinary delight as the Christmas roast or the Easter lamb.  In fact, the part of the turkey dinner I’ve actually enjoyed most has always been the leftover sammiches and the turkey soup that the Mothe used to make.   

Ah, well.  It’s not a big point.

Anyhoo, in case I don’t sneak in another post before we head off, a bumper to all of you, my fellow port-swillers!  Your thoughts and ideas and humor and kindness are definitely among those things for which I am truly thankful.