I'm a Fitzgerald, all right

I'm on my way to Stop & Shop to pick up chopped pecans. I don't have to have chopped pecans in the next 17 hours, but I'm curious and...well...there are a bunch of other Fitzgerald family patterns in play here and I won't pretend that any of them are particularly helpful to the other things I need to accomplish in the next 17 hours. But I am going to indulge myself in a trip to the grocery store for pecans. Maybe a couple of apples, too.

Happy Thanksgiving, all. May your feasts be filled with an abundance of cherished memories, laughter, loved ones, and friends.

Pecans obtained...

...and an alien thing, too. The latter was not planned. I'll post a picture after it's made its debut at tomorrow's feast.

Even Neil Gaiman knows that you don't need pecans for cranberry sauce, that there's value in keeping things simple. Fitzgeralds...at least those of my generation...just didn't get the simple gene. I'm trying to remember if I've seen any evidence of its existence anywhere in the family line.

For the record, all of the cranberry sauce I've made previously has been fine and delicious...without pecans. Or tangerine peel. Or cinnamon, for that matter.