Aah, there’s nothing quite like the political landscape during the month of November. The traditional stench of candidates flip-flopping on major issues to appease undecided voters, and millionaires masquerading as commonfolk in hopes of manipulating people into choosing them on election day. And let’s not forget about all those ugly smear campaigns, mudslinging, and asinine accusations wafting in the crisp November air. Or all the agenda-driven citizens’ initiatives, immersed in confusing legal jargon, polluting our ballot forms.

Aah, ’tis the season fraught with incivility, worthless (and annoying) campaign signs, cries of voter fraud and voter intimidation, poorly marked ballots and “hanging chads,” the Electoral College vs. the popular vote arguments, and then ultimately the denying of election results. Luckily, or maybe intentionally, our elections are held prior to Thanksgiving, so at the very least we can always count on being thankful that the election cycle has finally come to a close.

Once the ridiculousness of November’s election has ended, and we’ve maybe tried to make peace with the results, we can now focus on the month’s main event. As if we really need to be told when to be thankful. If Thanksgiving is the only time throughout the year when one ponders their blessings, I’d say that person is missing the Mayflower (aka boat). I am so very thankful for my faith, family, and friends all year long. Therefore, although I am not a fan of transitioning (if you know what I mean) I have no problem whatsoever with transitioning from Halloween straight to Christmas.

So, for me, the Thanksgiving holiday is entirely about the food. And football. But mostly about the food. A menu consisting of ham, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, and apple pie is perfectly fine, but turkey, stuffing, rolls, and pumpkin pie are mandatory, for my happiness on Thanksgiving day. Also cranberry sauce. Not the traditional homemade whole berry cranberry sauce, but my traditional jiggly wiggly kind from a can. And no, I did not forget about the green bean casserole. No thank you! The appearance, the texture, and the taste of the customary side dish is nothing I can get excited about. Neither is mincemeat pie, for that matter. (Sorry Father.) The offensive “dessert” was one of the many staples offered during my childhood Thanksgivings in Joplin, Missouri.

The massive menu my grandma would put forth each year was second to none. Us Iowans could always count on the traditional fare, but once in a while an additional oddity would make its way onto the table. One time it was deer, and another time it was quail ( a no-no in Arizona because quail are beloved creatures in these parts). I do remember Bambi tasting pretty good, but you had to be mindful of the buckshot with each bite of quail. I believe the atypical cuisine was the doing of my hunting kinfolk – not my grandma’s. Anyway, I think I’ll stick with the turkey. So, this is what November means to me. What does November mean to you?