Every Thanksgiving, my family gets together for our traditional Thanksgiving dinner. As everyone was growing up, my mother always did all the cooking. She’d start about a week ahead of time, preparing all the sweets, vegetables, and appetizers. We all basically sat back and enjoyed her beautiful meal, until we ended up being so stuffed, we could hardly ever move. Since my parents have passed away, I have tried to replicate my mother’s role on Thanksgiving Day. The first year I attempted to do it, it turned out to be a huge disaster. I burned our turkey, and the mashed potatoes came out like glue. Even my own pumpkin pie, which is commonly my specialty, turned out horrendous. To add insult to injury, my air conditioner broke down that day, and of course, it was one of the hottest Novembers on record. With each of my cooking going on, my house seriously felt like a furnace. The kids were all sour, and everyone was so hot they can didn’t feel like eating anything. It was the worst Thanksgiving holiday ever. Every year after that, I have asked my sisters to each bring a course. My oldest sister makes our mother’s famous artichokes, which are amazing. My other sisters will make sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes, and all kinds of appetizers. I cook the turkey and make several pies, since that is so much easier for us. The food is always delightful and I haven’t had any air conditioner problem at all. This year, it was consequently chilly, and so we even lit the fireplace. That made it seem like a true Thanksgiving Day.