Broken Glass, Fake Turkey, and one Week on Sale

A True Account enters the world, and so do I

We survived Thanksgiving. Eleven people, one real turkey, two fake ones, one shattered wine glass, two warring cranberry sauces, and two kinds of pie.

“Was that red wine?” asked my husband as we surveyed the aftermath. He was looking at a shield back chair with a needlepoint seat, holding the vacuum cleaner, checking for shards.

“I think so,” I said. I w…