It was in July that I saw my friend Dom, who returned here in September between one thing and another we have never succeeded in pecking, also because I live across town. At present, Thanksgiving Day, or the day of the turkey. A fortnight in an authentic American restaurant (?!), I have given, perhaps a po'stanco chew food than usual since I am here, a turkey dinner in the wine, and potatoes.

After we make sure there was any American in the group, not to validate the gossips that was just a pretext for a good dinner, we waited half an hour in bailame our good people. Located lucky, the bottle in my area being fought mostly by myself given the wine lovers do not sit with me. Among the interesting things came out tonight the story of the Pilgrim Fathers (and the new interpretation: "it is strange, as if to celebrate the day in which we have begun, in harmony, to remove his land"). The Mexican thanksgiving, celebrating the same day, the same turkey, but with a completely different story, narrating such a "Colonel" (forgive the memory, it is wrong for sure) that sought the seven cities of gold, taking with him a lot of people, venture beyond the Rio Grande in the wilderness seems to have suffered a great famine with the group. At the end you end up always there, thanks for the food.

Unltima highlight of the Australian night: you have your thanksgiving? No, we are prisoners in place of the pilgrims landed ... and they had the turkey. A myth.