Thanks, given

Thank you very much to those of you who shared lovely tidbits of your Thanksgiving with me, either in comments to the preceding entry or e-mail. To the generous anonymous philanthropist who air-mailed me a variety of mouth-watering vegan dishes and a very fetching pilgrim outfit to wear while enjoying them, I doff my shiny-buckled black hat. (The pilgrim outfit was a man’s Large, and I am a Small woman, but thanks to a wide cinch belt and an eyebrow-pencil mustache, I saved myself from disgrace.)
Although you shared with me, I still have nothing to share with you. I am not the “sharing” type. I will not permit you to lick my Tofutti cone. I do not want to see your thick, graypurplepink tongue extended and wagging, flattened, toward the smooth, unsullied surface of my non-dairy confection. I will not give you a sip of my sody-pop, even if you supply your own straw and draw only one long throatful up its length and then remove the straw from my glass, still suctioning it between your lips before swallowing (to avoid even the slightest hint of “backwash”). I will feign an infectious disease if you ask if you can have one of my french fries. I will, however, ask if you want to duck under my umbrella, but only if I know you will decline the offer.
Oh, and of course I will not share my hopes, dreams, feelings, exercise tips, or photographs of myself, either. (Stop asking.)
Instead, I’ll just direct you to Thanksgiving entries of days past, here and here. Consider them leftovers, and dig in!