OOOO, ahhhh. The best thing about Thanksgiving has to be the leftovers. OMG...it's like the feast never ends and tastes even better the next day. I haven't had to unbutton my pants, yet, but if I eat any more tonight I could be in serious trouble. The years we've gone to the Farm for TG are always fun but there's never any leftovers of the stuff you'd want. Those Harris-Carter people can eat, let me just tell ya. The stuff that is left over is still there for a reason, if you get my drift. Cranberry sauce or some of those weird looking jello salad thingys are not even a "round one" pick for me or mine, so you can bet they aren't going home with us. Noooo siree.
I just had leftover sweet potatoes, green beans, turkey and dressing with gravy, and a piece of chocolate pie and the smile I have on my face almost hurts. As Fred just said, I went the "full monty." I think those Harris-Carter people must have rubbed off on me after all these years.
The other thing I wanted to discuss is trains. Why? Because I wish we were a nation of train travel like in Europe. I adore the relaxing ride, the people watching , the space, and watching the country side roll by. You leave the driving to them and unless you hit cow or something, or derail for some reason, it's not a bad way to travel. I don't need the super speedy Japanese trains that move so fast everything is one big blur. I kind of like to see where I'm going. Give me a Eurostar(Leisure Select) any day and I'm one happy gal. Being served lunch is right up my alley. I don't even mind riding the local if it's clean. Standard class is just as fun and I always hope people are reading, so I can study them without being noticed. I have no problem walking to the bar for my own cup of tea or coffee. It's always nice to stretch your legs and you don't lose any time getting to your destination.
Now, I do remember riding the train in Russia some 35 years ago, and that was one interesting train ride. There were Russian soldiers, and peasants, and us--and lots of the peasants had chickens in cages on their laps. The speed of the train was so damn slow, I could have run along beside it, had it not been below zero outside, and the heat inside was oppressive. Let's just say the air inside was not particularly fresh, what with the chickens, cigarette smoke, and general Russian BO. But I DO remember it-- and that might be why. Stinky or otherwise, I still love train travel in Europe.