From the clear blue sky to the dead leafs on the ground. To the pie in the window, with it's sent traveling to me bed. I lay there bound to my bed by the sweet smells of that pumpkin pie and the fresh fall air. The beautiful sound of bells keeps me from drifting to sleep. As the smell of pumpkin pie leaves me, the call for breakfest beats me. Beating me like a bear protecting its cubs. The voice in y head tells me to get up and eat. With my face deep in my pillow I listen and start to get up. As I start to stand the smell of meats cooking greats my nose. The choice I will choose will be the kitchen. As I sit I see the little one doze off to sleep in her chair. The last one to the table will lose the race. The girls don't care they are to buisy staring into the mirror. Two of the boys lean up against the wall to keep the boys away from the house. I just sit at the table and take a bit of bacon. All the food is almost done, but I can't wait. The little one gets up from the table for a drink, but gets dissy from moving to fast. It's Thanksgiving morning and I'm already caring about what's to be made. The smallest boy plays with his toy at our feet. It is time to go get dressed, for the best time ever.