Thanksgiving Truth

Can't cook worth a damn.  I like cooking but it's not a passion.  I do make a great spaghetti sauce, fine white clam chowder, and passable meatloaf but when the holidays arrive I slink into a funk wondering what will I ruin this year?  I'm being hard on myself as my most recent culinary endeavors have been well received but it's sad to know my skills in the kitchen are lacking.  The reality? Mom wasn't a good cook so nothing was shared with her only child.  One of my favorite "Mary" stories revolves around her Chinese Chicken Salad recipe that was chosen and included in an addition of St. Mary's Catholic Church's cookbook.  Not once, not ever, did she prepare that for Dad and I. NOT once! That and I'm still haunted by the smell of SPAM and pineapple simmering in the frying pan. Thankfully, here in the Land of La exists the mecca of food, Trader Joe's.  I've already purchased the half of precooked Turkey that only needs to be reheated to be served.  It can be nuked but I'll do the one hour toast in the 350 degree oven instead.  Need to baste with chicken stock in hopes of generating some drippings for the gravy I hope to make. Fingers will be crossed. Besides if all else fails, Bill and I will just have pie.  Not a pie I baked of course, but one he bought at the House of Pies. Truthfully, Thanksgiving dinner is simply a matter of perspective.