My brother-in-law, Bud, spent Thanksgiving in a hospital room at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. He and my sister had gone out there for a routine check-up that was only supposed to last a few days. That turned into a month. The doctors figured that he picked up a nasty little microbe in his bloodstream through one of his catheters. He ended up with pneumonia and came within minutes of dying. Literally. It was some kind of miracle that he happened to be out there, under the best care, when this problem arose. Had he been home, he would not have made it. This is due to the many thoughts and prayers from family and friends and people throughout the world, many of whom visit my site. Thank you so much. And his strong will to live. My poor sister. All of these problems and she didn't have the best of Thanksgivings, either.
Me? I had a great one. My brother, Tim, and his wife Kate, flew me up to spend it with them outside of St. Louis, in Shiloh, Illinois. They made a fabulous meal. The stuffing my brother made had enough butter in it to keep dairy farmers happy for years. On my final night there we ate filet mignon with a rich mushroom and shallot sauce made with wine, brandy and heavy cream. Oh, and lobster tails with drawn butter. Poor me. It's nice country up that way, but, a little too cold this time of year for my Florida blood.
Since my sister didn't get a chance to do the Thanksgiving dinner she loves to cook each year, she did it yesterday. Lot's of family and friends were there. She is an excellent cook and everything was delicious, including her pumpkin cheesecake. This coming Sunday, my brother Sam and his wife Lindsay are doing a big meal.
'Tis the season to gain weight.
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