Memories of Thanksgiving

By Kait Carson

This will be my last post until the New Year, and I want to say thank you. To all of my readers, and to my blogmates. To my friends and family. To people I know and to those that I don’t. You all have taught me so much and enriched my life in so many ways. I am so very grateful. They say everyone needs a crew. I’m lucky to have found mine. Thank you.

2025 has been a helluva ride. On November 27^th, I’ll be sitting at my Thanksgiving table with my husband (closely attended by three cats and a dog because, well, food) and reflecting on all the wonderful, crazy, breathtaking experiences of 2025. Our traditional Thanksgiving dinner is simple. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, homemade cranberry sauce, stuffing, and pumpkin pie. If we’re lucky, a light snow will be falling. We may dream of a white Christmas, but I’m here to tell you that a white Thanksgiving has a charm all its own.

We’ll talk about Thanksgivings past. The days when I worked with law enforcement as a civilian volunteer and issued an open invitation for anyone working the holiday to stop by for a bite. A police car occupied every bit of lawn and parking space at my house. My newly moved in next-door neighbors, understandably concerned that something awful had happened, called in a panic. When I explained what was going on, they came over to join in the fun. Turned out they both worked for the District Attorney’s Office and knew a lot of my guests.

Then there is the indelible childhood memory of watching the turkey go up in flames. I grew up in apartments, and they had tiny galley kitchens with even smaller appliances. My mother had a big family. Dad would cook the bird outside on the grill when he could, but some years, that didn’t work out. As a religious devotee of Gourmet Magazine, my mother spatchcocked the bird, baked it, and intended to finish it under the broiler. It went well until a wee bit of the skin got too close to the flame and ignited. Still would have been fine, except Dad reached for the first glass that came to hand. Scotch. Yep. Turkey Flambé. I liked it, but I think I was alone in my preference. Sometimes it pays to be seven.

While we eat, we’ll talk about our plans for Christmas and the year ahead. After dinner, we’ll light the Christmas houses display my husband inherited from his mother. Then we’ll watch Planes, Trains, and Automobiles for the twenty-something time and debate whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie. I’m a no. Hubs is a yes.

What does this have to do with writing? Nothing and everything. It’s moments like these that fill the well and sometimes provide scene fodder.

What are your holiday traditions? Have any of your holidays been blessed with outlandish events? Will you dish?

 Hope that all have a very wonderful holiday season, and that the balance of 2025 brings all you desire. See you in 2026!

Kait Carson writes the Hayden Kent Mysteries, set in the Fabulous Florida Keys, and is at work on a new mystery series set in her adopted state of Maine. Her short fiction has been nationally published in the True Confessions magazines and in Woman’s World. Kait’s short story, “Gutted, Filleted, and Fried”, appeared in the Silver Falchion Award nominated Guppy Anthology Hook, Line, and Sinker. Her nonfiction essay was included in the Agatha Award-winning book Writing the Cozy Mystery. She is a former President of the Guppy Chapter of Sisters in Crime, a member of Sisters in Crime, and Guppies.