An extra Thanksgiving gratitude ... for MY grandmother.

I'm a grandmother now, but on Thanksgiving I'm back to age 6 as we drive south to Tarrytown singing "Over the River and Through the Woods to Grandmother's House we Go!" My grandmother was a hugger and my parents were not, so for the hours we took I anticipated the hug she'd give us at the door. She would scoop my sister and me up and give us wiggly hugs. She smelled of talcum and bleach which she used for cleaning. She had sort of a lilting voice and had the kind of accent you hear in old movies. Sort of like Sidney Carlton in Tale of Two Cities 'Tis a far far better thing that I do ..." or her contemporary, William Powell.

She usually had items around with just us girls in mind, a doll, a tea set ... I don't remember ever being bored around grandma. She was great at crossword puzzles and Jeopardy. She taught us Canasta and even now if I'm passing something out and come out exact, I mentally give myself 300 points.

She wasn't noted for cooking so I can't recall any special foods at her house. I know that on Thanksgiving there would be turnips because she liked them. Nobody else liked them, but I missed their smell on Thanksgivings after she died.