I love Thanksgiving.  Every year I wake up early and run a 5K Turkey Trot with a bunch of other equally demented fleece clad trotters.  It's my favorite day in Autumn, even though by mile 2, when my breath is short and I just got passed by another 10 year old in roller sneakers, I usual wonder why I thought that it was such a great idea in the first place.  In reality, I'm just happy when I can stay ahead of the under medicated middle aged guy dressed like a giant turkey.  One of my brothers and his wife host the big dinner that afternoon, so after I catch my breath, my only responsibility for the rest of the day is to provide the liquid libations.  The beauty of this arrangement is that I can take care of my contribution days before and spend the actual holiday enjoying a drink or two.  I know that some people freak out over finding the perfect wine or beer to serve with their diverse Thanksgiving menu, but not me.  I don't care I've figured out a trick or two. (continue reading)

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