Okay. Maybe it's because of the holiday season. Maybe it's the dream I had last night about being back in my parents' house, which was about to be lost or was already lost (hard to explain this in non-dream reality). Maybe it's the latke fumes still in the air. But sentimental thoughts . . . And then I was sorting through some papers over the weekend, and I came across this.
How long has it been since someone wrote to you and said they would love to buy you a jacket? My father was not a Saks kind of person by nature, so it's interesting that the jacket was from Saks. I did let him buy it for me, in the green. My mother got one in the tan. I wore it for years until the lining was completely shredded.
My husband makes the turkeys in our house, and they are quite delicious. He does not use my father's method, but I will say that my father's turkeys were remarkably delicious as well.