The First Holidays Without My Mom

In case you were wondering, Yes, that was me. The lady pushing her buggy down the aisle of the grocery store right before Thanksgiving. Tears streaming down her face. That was me. Tears were not the plan. Yukon Golds for mashed potatoes, Elbow macaroni for mac n’cheese. A few other things I had forgotten. That was the plan. I should remember my tears always have their own plan. Make no allowances for public appearances. And so, they picked the day

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The Way Thanksgiving Is Supposed To Taste

Here it comes. The family strife. The mess of our differences. All found At the bottom Of a casserole dish. I’m talking, Dear Reader, about Thanksgiving And Sweet potatoes. How do you love yours? Are your sweet potatoes mashed? In a pie? Squished into a casserole dish? Dare I even broach a topic more prickly than some which have divided nations? I will only whisper the word–topping. “To marshmallow or not to marshmallow?  That is the question.” Because we share

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