Spoiler Alert:  If you are expecting this to be an ode to all things gobble gobble, stop reading now.  The truth is, I don’t even eat turkey.

Thanksgiving.  A time to reflect, a time to count blessings, a time to give thanks.  I am a most lucky lady and have many, many things to be thankful for: 2 healthy, funny children, a wonderful extended family, great opportunities.  Health insurance.  Lots of shoes and several furry hats.  But this holiday, I am giving thanks to the person I never thank enough.

My husband.

Fifteen Thanksgivings ago, over a slice of pumpkin pie and a conversation about Ophelia, the most extraordinary thing happened.  I fell in love.  It was a classic boy on holiday gate crashes cynical girl’s Thanksgiving extravaganza and sweeps her off her sweet potato feet.  A tall, dark stranger, who later admitted he was only interested in a…