After years and years, in a previous marriage, entertaining in-laws in my too-small house with TWO turkeys that I didn’t eat, I gave it all up 14 years ago.

New life, new man, new Thanksgiving traditions. No turkey or bread cubes steeped in its bodily fluids. No salads in neon colors with mini marshmallows that never belong in salads. No corn pudding that tastes like baby food or cold, lumpy partially-mashed potatoes. No green bean casserole with glutinous cream of mushroom soup. Gone — all of it!

Now Thanksgiving has the chance to actually be happy.

I was always a writer but lived in a bookkeeper’s body before I found Medium and broke free — well, almost. Working to work less and write more.

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