Home is where the heart is --- and this Partonville homecoming will warm the hearts of all Dearest Dorothy fans this fall

A familiar chill fills the crisp air of Partonville. It's the season of food, family, houseguests, and, above all, being thankful. With the Pumpkin Festival and Centennial Plus 30 behind them, Dorothy Westra and the citizens of Partonville turn their eyes to Thanksgiving. Even with worn-out backs, new love interests, morning sickness, lofty business ventures, and the impassioned fallout of a bygone courtship, they're preparing for a Partonville-wide feast that requires everyone to pitch in. It's sure to take a lot of work and a little unselfishness, prompting Dorothy to recall that "if we extend generosity to anyone, it's the same as if we've extended it to Jesus." But is success possible without Gladys in her usual take-charge role? And with no vacancy at the motel, can poor Jessica be expected to cook, especially since she can't even hold down a saltine?

Gladys, acting mayor of Partonville, is on a tear. The fall celebration is just around the corner and there's more to do than can possibly be done --- especially since Dorothy is conspicuously absent from the inaugural committee meeting. She has enough on her plate, with band practice and getting the talent show up and running. Besides, Arthur's presence at the meeting --- due primarily to his being duped into attending by his wife, Jessie --- draws attention away from Dorothy's absence. Not only is the festival in the works, but Gladys has decided to inject even more life into the town by announcing that a Centennial Plus 30 will coincide with the annual revelry.

So much to do. Dorothy has a house filled with almost nine decades' worth of memories to either get rid of or pack up and move into town. Saying good-bye to Crooked Creek Farm will be difficult. But that can come later; it's summer in Partonville and she doesn't move (at least officially) until the fall.

Dorothy is wrestling with a dilemma. Like a lot of sleepy towns across America, Partonville is decidedly behind the times. The old clock in the square has been stuck at 1:14 since anyone can remember, and everyone, it seems, is over the hill. What could Partonville possibly offer a young person? Over in Hethrow, though, progress is in the air. And the only thing standing between Hethrow's sprawl and the sleepy town of Partonville is Dorothy's ancestral home, Crooked Creek Farm. A developer is breathing down her neck and needs a decision soon. Should she sell the home she inherited from her mother: the home where Dorothy was conceived and born, where her three children were conceived and born, and where her precious daughter took her last breath? With no clear answer in sight, Dorothy does what she does every single day --- talks to her Lord and asks for guidance.