Thanksgiving has always been the holiday that has meant the most to me.  There seems to be less hub bub about everything unlike Christmas and Birthdays.  Our family still had a basic routine and some minor traditions, but it was still rather low key and basically ended up being four days when we were at Grandma and Grandpa Sowle's.
      We usually arrived on Wednesday evening after dad got out of work at the barbershop.  By the time we had crested the small rise just before their house, we were always looking for the spruce tree that Grandpa had decorated with lights.  Back in the 60's, having outside lights was something special and Grandpa always made sure they were up by Thanksgiving.  In the picture above you can see the tree right in the middle towards the back of the picture.  It was about halfway down the driveway on the side by Aunt Mabel's cottage.  It just always meant that the year had begun, to me at least, to see those lights.  After that was Christmas and then winter weekends skating and then summer. 
     Wednesday supper was always homemade noodles for the beef noodle soup that Grandma made.  I don't remember much else that went with it, just that the house always smelled so good from the pies made that day and the soup simmering when we arrived. 
     Later that evening Julie and I would help Grandma as she made the cinnamon twist rolls.  A sweet dough rolled out big and slathered with butter and brown sugar and cinnamon.  Folded over in thirds, cut, we'd grab each end and twist it a couple of times before laying it in a pan of a mixture of walnuts and corn syrup and more brown sugar and cinnamon.  They'd raise for a while until baking just before we'd open up the click-clack couch for bed while Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa played cards.
     In such a small house everyone was up early and Julie would help Grandma "pinch" the turkey of any remaining quills and then we'd have the rolls made the night before and wait for the turkey to cook.  Dad always liked a pumpkin pie with walnuts and cranberry sauce with ground orange rind and nuts.  Towards the end of dinner Grandpa would always stir together whatever was on his plate to appall us kids. 
     I'm all grown now and I've been through a memorable Thanksgiving while a Cadet on the ship Sparrows Point while slowly sailing through the Straits of Mackinaw, shared a potluck meal in a remote Eskimo village where I had my first teaching job, started new memories with a new husband and family while we packed up leftovers for our children to take home, and this year we have our first grandchild, a beautiful baby boy, joining us for new and wonderful memories. 
  Lots to be thankful for, from memories to future gatherings.