(Wait, that's not quite right...)
We had a lovely holiday chez Worducopia, though not quite complete as I didn't make my mom's stuffing recipe (we had wild rice and mashed potatoes so I decided to cut back on the carbs). Therefore, tonight's dinner will be stuffing, stuffing, and more stuffing! Some may choose to have leftovers with their stuffing; others may just eat stuffing, and my sister's fudge.
The morning cough I'd had for a week finally worked up enough steam to blossom into a full-blown cold on the day after Christmas, so I spent much of the day in bed. I finished Thanksgiving at the Inn, which is less Thanksgiving-ish than it sounds and was the perfect post-Christmas read. I'd been saving it to read with my kids, but our read-aloud time isn't keeping up with our stack of books, so I decided to read it myself for now.The grandfather Heath never knew has left Heath's father an inheritance with strings attached: Heath and his father must live in and care for the grandfather's inn and its longterm residents. Heath finds himself getting to know his grandfather post mortem, through the memories of this new makeshift family, while his relationship with his recovering-alcoholic father goes from rocky to rockier.
I'd call this a family read. The narrative voice and storyline seems aimed at the 9-12 year old range, but there are more issues (Dad's alcoholism, an autistic neighbor, adults with checkered pasts) than I'd want to hand over to middle grade readers to read alone.