We all love a good mystery.

One evening, early in December, Mike and I were home decorating for Christmas when the doorbell rang. Mike got there first. When I came up from downstairs he said, “Come and see what was left at the front door.”

It was a perfect Thanksgiving.

The weather had been a bit nippy and rain clouds loomed, but that was to be expected in November in Oregon.

How we ended up with the world’s driest turkey?

Well, that was the cat’s fault.

It has become a showdown.

There’s the I-dream-of-pumpkin-spice-24/7 people, and there’s the Leave-my-summer-alone crowd. And they squabble about it on Facebook.

Like everything else.