Still Pilgrims After All these Years

     On Thursday Tom and I and our son Tommy, the only of our children available this year, once again became, along with many of our fellow Americans, pilgrims for a day.
      For our family on Thanksgiving day all roads lead to Amherst, Ohio,

.. where Tom's sister Mary Jane, 

...her husband Ken and their family always host the yearly gathering of their branch of the family tree.
      For us the ride from Columbus to Amherst, a town in northern Ohio about an hour west of Cleveland,  feels as much a part of the Thanksgiving Day ritual as the meal itself.  Seems we're always on the look-out along the way for the same peculiar or distinctive houses or Amish farms or examples of American-byzantine architecture in the small towns we pass through.
        This year we broke with our from-time-immemorial Thanksgiving pilgrimage ritual of stopping along the way at the Goasis,

...a popular oasis for travelers along Interstate 71 with stellar but too few ladies' room stalls for the number of consumers (see post from 7/28/2014),

     We finally asked ourselves (rhetorically) why we always stop at this place where it's guaranteed I'll have to face a long slow line to the ladies' room,

...when there's McDonald's a short distance down the road, which might offer more commensurate facilities,

...which indeed it did.
     Before leaving I went up to the counter,

...which was fairly busy in spite of the holiday,

...and ordered a small Diet Coke. 
      It never ceases to amaze me how nice and friendly  food service folks always are.   Even those who were working at this McDonald's on Thanksgiving day were cheerful, and the girl who took my order informed me that the soft drinks were all the same price, a dollar, whatever the size, and so suggested that I might want to get a larger size since I would  pay no more than for a smaller.
     I thought:  1) That was very nice of that girl, who, though she had to be there working on the holiday was still nice enough to tell me about the soft drink deal, and 2)  It was somehow heartening to learn that a corporate entity in offering all sizes of drinks for a dollar had perhaps taken a nano-step back from striving to wring every conceivable cent out of every conceivable transaction.
       Anyway, I left that McDonald's feeling a warm sense of gratitude for small things.
       And so we arrived at the our destination to join those of our clan who could make it, all of us so happy to see each other again,

...from the youngest,

...to the oldest, Tom's 98-year-old father,

     And when our Thanksgiving feast was ready,    

...and all laid out in a lovely spread,

...we filled our plates,

...under the guidance of Uncle Andy, ;)

...then sat at the table, gave thanks,

...and joined fellow Americans from sea to shining sea in continuing   the tradition of this day,

...first celebrated almost 500 years ago when our refugee immigrant forefathers and mothers were given sustenance by the Native Americans,

...for which they gave thanks.

     Dinner was followed by a pleasant interlude during which some went for a walk,

...some engaged in discourse,

...some rested,

...and some cleaned up,

...and cleared the way for dessert,

...which included among the offerings a dobos torte,

...which is a traditional Hungarian 9-layer chocolate-iced cake made by Mary Jane  in honor of the family's Hungarian heritage. It was nagyon finom, which is Hungarian for very delicious.

     After dessert Mary Jane pulled out some boxes of their parents' correspondence, photographs and post cards for the family to look over.

     Letters from relatives in Hungary.

Everyone took home a few momentos.

     It was a good Thanksgiving, I believe.

 And not a word of politics passed among us.