I've been neglectful, and I apologize. Ever since Thanksgiving, I've been feeling a bit bitter. Why? you ask (you are so nice to ask!). Well, I'll tell you. Here's why:

To the uninformed eye, this just looks like a pile of cute little turkeys, perhaps something a young child made in an elementary school art class.
But to the informed (i.e., scrapper's) eye, this is much, much more.
Much more.
This is a pile representing hours of work.
It wasn't enough that I had to get up at the crack of dawn to stuff the turkey (actually, I talked my son into stuffing it, telling him it was good practice for his future as an obstetrician. What's an obstetrician, Mom? he asked. Don't ask so many questions, I answered).
It wasn't enough that half of the invited guests had not yet RSVPd so I didn't know if I would have 12 people for dinner or 22.
It wasn't enough that my son (yes, the future obstetrician) begged me to make pumpkin pie and I hate pumpkin pie.
No, I had to take it upon myself to create a little Thanksgiving craft project for my girls to do while I was cooking, based on an adorable turkey placecard I saw in Cards magazine. So I took time out from the stirring and chopping and burning and charring, and I punched out cardstock circles, cut ribbon, and created noses and hats and the like. Then I sat the girls down with glue sticks at approximately 2:00 and told them to have at it.
At 2:02, my 6-year-old asked, Do we have to do this, Mom?
Of course not, I answered, only if you want to eat dessert tonight.
At 2:04, my 2-year-old ate her glue stick and asked for more. No, I answered. You will spoil your dinner.
At 2:07 both girls abandoned the task and went off to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving for the 52nd time.
At 2:08 I grabbed the uneaten glue stick and completed the final turkeys. Since I was not sure how many people were actually coming, I erred on the side of caution and family harmony and made one for even those who might, but probably wouldn't, come. Of course, I ran out of materials and chose to forego my own turkey in order to make one for my brother's stepdaughter, who lives in San Diego, but might decide at the last minute to attend.
At 3 pm, guests arrived. What are these? they asked, fingering the ribbon-bedecked turkeys.
Oh, just a little something the girls and I whipped up, I answered modestly.
Hunh, they all said. Where's the pumpkin pie?
Two hours later, everyone left. Leaving their adorable turkeys behind, I might add. Now I'm stuck with 20 turkeys. And there isn't even one with my name on it.
And you ask why I'm bitter...