Thank a Crank

I often get cranky, when there is so much pressure to perform for Thanksgiving Day. It is mostly created by my own doing because I want a perfect table, delicious food, great interaction with family, nice clean house and much, much more. It seldom happens, but when the day is done, I can't deny that it went well and I need to quit crying over spilled milk.

Many are the past Thanksgiving Days that I never shared 'MY' plan with my family. They didn't know my standard or were too busy with their own lives to care or help which I really needed. When all is said and done, it isn't that it was perfect in my eyes, but was I pleasant enough to enjoy them and the time we were together?

Just let it go girl. There are too many quiet days, alone to ruin the ones we have together. Make that a rule. Brand it into your thick brain, that no matter what happens: Crispy over fried turkey, spills on the tablecloth, hard rolls, oven not working, tired from lack of sleep or more than you can remember; get over it and 'Behold your little ones!'

From Boston to Bunker Hill and Back

My first visit to Boston was so brief I have to go back. There was only time to walk the Freedom Trail from the Park Street Church to Bunker Hill. Along the way we saw Paul Revere's statue and home, Granary Burial Ground, Old City Hall, State House and more. We crossed the Charlestown Bridge, caught a glimpse of the harbor, USS Constitution, the Green Beltway and wow, what a walk it was.

We followed the red painted three mile pathway all over town. A few times the route was obscured by construction. It was like the ants in "A Bug's Life" when they had a fit because their road was blocked. Looking around at hundreds of others on the same pilgrimage, we took off again for another landmark.

A sign advertising a spagetti lunch for $7.95 drew us into a local eatery. One order would have sufficed. The helping was so generous. Back on the road again (or sidewalk), we saw Bunker Hill in the distance high on its hill and similar to the Washington Monument in D.C. We made it but our feet refused to climb the 400 steps to the top.

As we finished our walk to freedom, and headed for the subway 'The T', I saw a shopping bag lady with two carts full of plastic bags, cans and all her belongings at the corner of the busy intersection. Boston, a place for everyone.