Rainy Night in NC

On the way up and down the mountain on this rainy Sunday to take Jacob to Asheville to meet his dad, I played with my camera. Here is one pic I found interesting.

The End

Thanksgiving is not over until every bit of the turkey has been eaten, and the bird is almost picked clean. The dog and cats have enjoyed their Thanksgiving dinners of liver and other gross innards mixed with rice that I cooked just for them. If they only knew that tomorrow it is back to the bagged dry stuff. Of course we people have had many a turkey sandwich, which I argue is the best part of the Thanksgiving fare. This year I baked the turkey a new way. I soaked a piece of cheesecloth in about a half cup of melted butter that had lots of nice herbs in it and draped it single layer on the turkey. It turned out to be a lovely, shiny golden brown, picture perfect.

Do these fit?

You can always find something to buy at Hamrick's - even if you have a 66 inch waist and some darned long legs. Here is Jacob doing the Jared thing.

Always Giving Thanks

Giving thanks is a mindset, something we can train our minds to do. "In all things give thanks." (I Thessalonians 5:18)

Today I am especially thankful that years ago the US government set aside a day for giving thanks. It gives families who are apart not always by choice but by duty a time and a reason to gather together. My grown children - and I include those whom I did not birth - and I are busily caught up in our lives, our work, tending to the next generation, and surviving on Planet Earth. That means we are not together all that often. Thankfully the holiday of Thanksgiving encourages a coming together. Anything worth having is worth working for (it is said) and a family gathering is no exception. But when the work is over and I am around those whom I love, I am filled with thanks.

Come, Ye Thankful People, Come

Come ye thankful people, come. Raise the song of harvest home.
All is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied.
Come to God's own temple, come. Raise the song of harvest home.

All the world is God's own field. Fruit unto His praise to yield.
Wheat and tares together sown, unto joys or sorrows grown.
First the blade and then the ear, then the full corn shall appear.
Lord of harvest, grant that we, wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come and shall take His harvest home.
From His field shall in that day all offenses purge away.
Give His angels charge at last in the fire the tares to cast.
But the fruitful ears to store in His garner evermore.

Even so Lord quickly come to thy final harvest home.
Gather thou thy people in, free from sorrow free from sin.
There forever purified in thy presence to abide
Come with all thine angels come. Raise the glorious harvest home.

Words by Dr. Henry Alford in 1844