2020 has not changed this:
I always spend Thanksgiving with my mom and dad …
… in the car, late at night, on the way to Salinas, to visit the lady who lives in a house with a stained glass window, my dad at the wheel, my mom carefully explaining the words of the song we had sung for the Thanksgiving Holiday program at school earlier that day.
“‘Tares’ are weeds.” “A ‘garner’ is a barn.” We are supposed to be the wheat.
Safely gathered in.
Edited 11.26.20; Originally posted 11.22.18