Happy Thanksgiving from Marjorie!

Pop says this is positively the last time he lets me carve the turkey. I don't think I'm doing too badly, though! Especially in my cute chef's ensemble. How come the whole meal ends up being the women's job, until it's time to carve the bird?

This is what my family is having for Thanksgiving dinner here in 1925:

Turkey with chestnut dressing and giblet gravy

Baked onions
Baked squash
Caramel sweet potatoes
Mashed potatoes
Molded cranberry jelly
Relish tray
Orange Delight salad
Hot baking powder biscuits
Pumpkin pie
Caramel nut cake
Salted nuts

You don't think we're overdoing it, do you?

Somehow I mixed up the guest list. Along with me, Pop, Frances, Helen, Charlie, and Dot, I managed to invited both Richard and Peter, my hometown  beau and my Chicago beau. Oops! Oh, well. I think they'll behave themselves, as long as we seat them at opposite ends of the table.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I'm waiting . . .

My author, Jennifer Lamont Leo, has promised to come over here and help me update my diary. We've heard THAT before, haven't we? Poor thing has been typing her fingers to the BONE, working on a second novel starring ME. Have I mentioned that I play a starring role in her novels? All we need now is one teeny, tiny little agent to help us get published. Then I'll become famous, and a Hollywood producer will want to make a movie of my story, and the next thing you know, you'll see my face on the cover of Photoplay! Mark my words!