The Yellow Thanksgiving

This year it has been so mild and relatively dry that my mind keeps going back to what I have called the Yellow Thanksgiving. Maybe it wasn't actually Thanksgiving, just a date near the holiday. It was, perhaps, one of the last times we had one of the wider old family gatherings at Loop Drive. Because we were celebrating it must have been before the JW's time. There was smoking and cardplaying and Pop hauled out the old coffee urn he had leftover from his bar days (the only way he could prepare suitable quantities). It was so very mild, warm even, that we had all the windows open. I remember looking out of the dining room window to see the driveway unusually filled with family cars and thinking how very yellow the carpet grass looked. When we kids and the cousins played games in the front yard, we kicked up a lot of dry grass and dead leaves. Witch Oh Witch, Red Rover, London Bridge. Time it was, and what a time it was.