In the States, Thanksgiving was last Thursday, November 25. In France, that means nothing. It's not a holiday and you have to go to work on Friday, too. That means that we usually "do" Thanksgiving on the following weekend.
This year, it was on Sunday afternoon. I had ordered the turkey from the poultry lady at the market and Paul picked it up on Friday. If you need a reminder of the disaster that was last year, then go back to that post. She remembered it very well and was going to take good care of me this year. She did. The turkey was beautiful, albeit way too expensive. This year's turkey was on the small side, only around 4 kg. I had been saving bread for the stuffing. Emily had made a tsimiss for one of our great meals at Barnegat Light in October (the mini class reunion) and I remembered that for the sweet potatoes. Rita brought over her excellent cranberry relish, made with celery and apple. And I made pumpkin pie.
Anne took these pictures and everyone cleaned their plates.
Also, people sing about a white Christmas. We had a white Thanksgiving. It's not that frequent that it snows so early and it sticks.