My grandmother in Palm Desert was a terrible cook. And I still have fond memories of the childhood thanksgivings in the desert. I remember the stuffing, the pie. And I was pretty young when I started making the pumpkin pies too. Mine were always the best, or so I thought. Cold mornings and evenings and t shirt hot sunny bright afternoons for about 1-2hours. Leftovers piled into white bread sandwiches the next day. My dad grabbing me to escape the shut in inlaws who never went anywhere, to take me clothes shopping (an excuse, for him, fun for me!).