Greetings from Mississippi.

A woman in town invited me to her church for Thanksgiving dinner this past Friday. Any senior in town was welcome, despite religious affiliation (or lack of same.)

I was invited because being acknowledged as the local writer (grimace) she wanted me to say a few words about life in a small town after lunch. By the way, that's the thing about itty bitty towns--you can have some articles published in the paper, and become known as the local writer. Haha! Talk about a big fish in a small pond.

So, never turning down a free meal I showed up, and was served the most delicious meal of smoked turkey and ham, chicken and dumplings, dressing, rolls, vegetables and desserts. Those church ladies can cook! There were 10 tables with white haired seniors eating and chatting (except for me: I have Clairol enhanced dark brown hair, ha ha.)
Anyhoo, after some singing by elderly ladies with wavery cracked voices, I was invited to do my little spiel and talked about what I like about small towns, and about how life was in the olden days, to which everyone could relate.(I didn't mention things I don't like about small towns--you do have to make an effort to fit in, you know.)

But it was an altruistic and lovely idea, and more churches should follow their example--it's the only time all us old geezers and geezerettes have a chance to see one another since the grocery store, which was a sort of community meeting place, closed years ago.
OH--two small jokes told by the emcee--(1) Why can't turkeys go to church? Answer: They use fowl language.
(2)What would be notable about the Pilgrims if they were alive today? Answer: Their longevity.

Bye from susil, in the teeniest place in deep south America.