The insanity descends

The family is on its way here. Seriously, they're all coming to Boston: Mom and Howie are boarding their plane right now. Auntie Donna, Jess and Alex were so excited to come out today that they actually left Virginia last night, and as of 2 a.m. this morning, when they stopped to sleep, were in East Windsor, N.J.
It's been several years since we've been together for Thanksgiving, and though it's not all of us, we should still have a good time.


Here's a picture of the national Thanksgiving Turkey, named Marshmallow, during the Presidential pardoning ceremony, Nov. 22, 2005.
"You, my friend, are saved...until next year."

Actually, what does happen to the turkeys that are pardoned? They certainly don't know that they dodged a bullet (or ax). Do they appreciate it? They aren't aware that they could have been keeping a platter warm, all full of stuffing and gently glazed in melted butter. They have no idea that some ruffian could be pulling off their leg and sinking his teeth into their thigh muscle. (Okay. I'm not liking this train of thought, actually, so let's be done.)
Anyway, Marshmallow has no worries.