I carried a basket loaded with dip, crackers, Cranberry relish, a hot yam casserole, a bottle of Yellowtail Chardonnay, and some other odds and ends. I chuckled in amusement as I carefully balanced the thanksgiving meal accoutrements like an entertainer at a Cirque De Sol performance.  It was our contribution to the dinner and there it sat on the back seat of the car, our meals on wheels.  

 

I can remember when my wife’s family would come near and far bringing with them a portion of the Thanksgiving meal. Rolls, Jello salads, corn, succotash, salads, pies, cakes, and other items made the trip in the car. Keeping the bowl of corn from spilling onto the fresh baked rolls, watching the pie slam into the windshield at a sudden stop, and ignoring the third degree burns one felt while holding the oyster casserole on their lap, all made the trip to the house frustrating and fun.

 

So we plan. We pack the pies in boxes, we put the casserole in a basket with a towel, and the bottle of wine is laid on its side, and we drive slowly. Eventually, the dishes would be arrayed on the table and even though there might have been a missing deviled egg, some cool whip stuck to the cling wrap, or hot vegetable liquid pooling around the bowl, Thanksgiving still tasted great. So we gave thanks for our collaborative meals on wheels and then passed the squashed squash.