Thanksgiving is coming, although all the stores are gearing up for Christmas, I think Thanksgiving deserves a lot of attention. I don’t see it as just a day for remembering what we have to be thankful for or as a commemoration of the the Pilgrims making it through a year.

For me, having been born in 1948 to a Midwestern families who had been in Indiana for over 100 years were descended from earlier settlers in the East, it was a combination of both. I remember my grandmother saying that her grandmother had walked out here beside a wagon.

Back then I took it for granted that I had the stuff to be a little Pilgrim girl; now I am wiser and sincerely doubt it. However, each day is a new world and there is only stopping or going forward – there is no going back. So . . . today is today; and today I am finishing up a Thanksgiving wreath for Mrs. Feller’s door.

Finishing and repairing. There were some problems:

Okay, here’s the turkey.

Yes, the raffia is going in the one hole in the structure . . . and it ain’t pretty. Not only that, physics determines that he hangs all akilter. So I tucked him in at the bottom of the wreath. Then Sydney jumped on it and got tangled up and he wound up swinging.

But wait, there is more.

Here is a little Pilgrim girl dangling by her neck. Want to feel even worse? Look below.

Look at that cheerful little face with the gleaming blue eye, so reflective of her belief that her AmeliaJake will fix everything. Optimism even after the march of dog paws and the dragging that ensued. Oh, Little Pilgrim Girl, I am so humbled by your trust.

Well, okay, let’s have a go at it.