Happy Thxgiving and to all a Good Nacht!

I never stuff myself. However, I have an enormous capacity to eat. When I came home, I went on my exercise bike for 25 minutes while watching a depressing Masterpiece Theater about a man in his fifties who gets together with his old flame, now married and with children.

He downs two bottles of wine and his behavior goes from dreadful to drunk dreadful. I wanted to change the channel but I also wanted to see what further disasters befell him. Song of Lunch it's called.

Sarah made the deep dish apple pie yesterday but did not bake it. Then she left for NJ to cook at Nikki and Steve's. It was up to me to bake it today, which I did using the milk and cinnamon-sugar mixture.

Got up early to bake the pie. Best apple pie ever! Served with a warm sweetened apple sauce.

This room used to be Steve's office. He changed it to The Music Room. Here's Ethan playing boogie-woogie, while Quinn the athlete looks on.

Hey, maybe Ethan would like to use this for his next album cover. They do have a CD coming out soon.

Sarah worked nonstop. Most of the women wore black. Watch and you'll see.

They never stop loving each other. And give each other a lot of freedom. Sarah is unusually flexible. She and I may travel to France to work on our kidney memoir.

Hostess Nikki is on the left. You wouldn't believe all the dishes she made. Everything was delicious. She and Sarah cooked a vegetarian meal for Jade. When I sat next to Jade, 24, after dinner I asked her what she eats for protein: eggs, cheese, beans and rice, tofu. Her fiance Matt is not a veggie.

My sister Donna picked me up and drove us to her daughter Nikki's. I'd packed the food in boxes I assiduously collect at the Giant ("Ed, dyou have any cartons for me today?"). Donna's a great cook. Hey, Don, did you make those stuffed mushrooms? I stuffed myself with them.

When we stopped for gas in Jersey - considerably cheaper than in PA ($3.03) - the guy in the turban said to Donna, "Ooh, Sexy!"

Here comes Mommy Dearest! Her handlers are my son Dan and Ethan.

Ethan and I went on a long walk. We walked along the RR tracks, which reminded him of when he was brot up in Wisconsin and would follow a path of telephone poles.

There's something really romantic and evocative about walking along the tracks. A metaphor for life?

There were lots of things to point to: we saw a huge hawk-like bird and I thot I may have seen a fox cross the tracks. The area is a haven for suburban animals. Donna said she saw a beaver by the side of the road, standing on his hind legs. "It's a woodchuck," I said. "This isn't Maine."

I always enjoy being alone with Ethan and talking. You never know how the conversation will go. I asked him about his childhood and when he started playing the piano. Everyone in his family has interesting names: his dad Sherman Iverson was a visual artist, a painter; his mom, Cara, a housewife; and his brother is Spencer, who lives in a group home.

His dad died at age 50 of cirrhosis. Ethan was living in NY at the time, but his dad called him the nite before he died. He must have known. His mom is also dead. I'd spoken to her once or twice on the phone. She had that midwestern twang I love.

As we walked along, Ethan said we missed our turnoff to Nikki's house. He had a GPS on his phone, so he located Colonial Drive. At this point, I felt a sense of dread, but said nothing. My blood sugar level was probably extremely low. In fact, we'd been walking more than an hour, and when we did get back, I quickly went into the kitchen and said, Give me some starch. I gobbled down a stuffed baked potato with cheese and took my sugar. 70 and under is low. Mine was 54.

Not to worry. I made sure I ate as soon as possible. Hey, why go into a diabetic coma on Thanksgiving?

On our way back to Nik's, we saw this neat Norman Bates-type apartment for sale.

One of the things Ethan and I discussed was the inexplicably of certain people who continue to live w/their parents through their adult years. We probly all know someone like this.

Jade and Miles are my sister Lynn's kids. Jade will graduate this December from Penn State - and yes, we discussed the Sandusky incident and how terribly the students reacted, with no thought for the victims - and Miles who's studying psychology at BU. He and his girlfriend are going to Madrid to study.

Jade's fiance, who I didn't photograph - he's a handsome guy who wore a bow-tie and also waxed his mustache! - is also graduating from PSU next month and studying psychology. I was surprised he was interested in psych, since he doesn't come from a dysfunctional family, like many of us do.

But we have the power to create healthy families of our own.

Seven-year-old Patrick, overseen by grandma Donna, played one of his recent compositions "Happy-Sad." It was outstanding!

Host Steve, next to my sister Lynn, loves the holiday, loves the family. This is my core group, he said. Your home group, I said. He wants everyone to come back next year. Tradition has it, that we go around the room and say what we're thankful for. I stood up and said I'm thankful for Odysseus, and pointed to my lower right abdomen, where Sarah's kidney happily resides.

I asked for leftovers and got enough for four meals. Scott and I will celebrate Thxgiving tomro, since he had to work tonight.

I'd like to invite someone over to partake of this bountiful feast. If you'd like to come, gimme a call. Seriously! Oh, I forgot, no one reads my blog!