NEWS
Whittling Away Thankful
Thanksgiving is about to fade into the sunset once again leaving a trail of memories and leftovers. It’s one of my favorite holidays, focusing on family and food which explains my fondness for it, I’m sure. Just a quick glance around the table and I have a whole list of things I’m thankful for. There’s nothing better than a house full of loved ones and good smells!
I’m thankful for a lot of things. I’m thankful for the Pilgrims who started this custom almost four hundred years ago. Many of their traditions live today—inviting the neighbors over for one. We invited them, I was kind of hoping that in the spirit of the holiday that they’d dress like Indians and maybe knock off a couple of the deer that roam freely over our lawns and drag them over for the feast. They didn’t—maybe next year. The Indians stayed with the Pilgrims for three days and feasted, they had to there were no refrigerators to store the leftovers in. When the food was all gone, they formed a conga line and danced through the woods which I think was the start of the Macy’s Parade. They then hopped into an ox cart and drove to the mall where they spent the rest of the day trying to find a parking spot.
I’m thankful that I’m a carnivore during this festive season. A feast just isn’t a feast without meat. A Hubbard squash stuffed with dressing or a turkey sculpted out of tofu just wouldn’t be the same and they’re so hard to baste or make gravy out of. Someone told me last week that “vegetarian” is an old Indian word that means “One who hunts poorly” but I wouldn’t put money on it. I really do have a lot of respect for vegetarians and their dedication and on occasion have even thought of giving it a try myself but then thoughts of prime rib or a thick pork chop just wipe those ideas away.
I’m thankful that I’m not a turkey. I’ve tried feeling sorry for them, honest I have, its just that they taste so darn good. They’re a marvel of genetic engineering we’ve taken one of the smartest of all wild fowl and made it into something that is actually dumber than a Jerry Springer Show contestant. It’s a real challenge to bag a wild turkey requiring stalking skills and wily woodland wisdom. Imagine hunting on a Butterball ranch, no gun necessary, just carry a bowling ball and drop it on the head on a chubby prospect. How could you tell it was a Butterball ranch, you may ask, Simple say I, just look for the little round white pop-up button on the birds’ chests as they walk by. I wonder if Butterball eggs have those little buttons on them when they put them into the incubators. They are handy little things but awfully chewy and I don’t think they’re very nourishing.
Most of all, I’m thankful for my family and my friends. Without them my life would be flavorless and flat. I’m thankful for you who read my column week after week probably hoping to see some improvement. Those of you who have so kindly e-mailed me especially deserve my thanks your feedback keeps me going. I love your comments and stories, keep them coming! A writer with no audience would be a sad thing indeed.
Lastly, I’m thankful for leftovers! Turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, pumpkin pie, enough to last for days. My only worry is that some morning I may wake up and discover that this little white plastic button has appeared on my chest.
Thought for the week—Why is it called “after dark” when it really is “after light”.
Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.
Whittle12124@yahoo.com
I’m thankful for a lot of things. I’m thankful for the Pilgrims who started this custom almost four hundred years ago. Many of their traditions live today—inviting the neighbors over for one. We invited them, I was kind of hoping that in the spirit of the holiday that they’d dress like Indians and maybe knock off a couple of the deer that roam freely over our lawns and drag them over for the feast. They didn’t—maybe next year. The Indians stayed with the Pilgrims for three days and feasted, they had to there were no refrigerators to store the leftovers in. When the food was all gone, they formed a conga line and danced through the woods which I think was the start of the Macy’s Parade. They then hopped into an ox cart and drove to the mall where they spent the rest of the day trying to find a parking spot.
I’m thankful that I’m a carnivore during this festive season. A feast just isn’t a feast without meat. A Hubbard squash stuffed with dressing or a turkey sculpted out of tofu just wouldn’t be the same and they’re so hard to baste or make gravy out of. Someone told me last week that “vegetarian” is an old Indian word that means “One who hunts poorly” but I wouldn’t put money on it. I really do have a lot of respect for vegetarians and their dedication and on occasion have even thought of giving it a try myself but then thoughts of prime rib or a thick pork chop just wipe those ideas away.
I’m thankful that I’m not a turkey. I’ve tried feeling sorry for them, honest I have, its just that they taste so darn good. They’re a marvel of genetic engineering we’ve taken one of the smartest of all wild fowl and made it into something that is actually dumber than a Jerry Springer Show contestant. It’s a real challenge to bag a wild turkey requiring stalking skills and wily woodland wisdom. Imagine hunting on a Butterball ranch, no gun necessary, just carry a bowling ball and drop it on the head on a chubby prospect. How could you tell it was a Butterball ranch, you may ask, Simple say I, just look for the little round white pop-up button on the birds’ chests as they walk by. I wonder if Butterball eggs have those little buttons on them when they put them into the incubators. They are handy little things but awfully chewy and I don’t think they’re very nourishing.
Most of all, I’m thankful for my family and my friends. Without them my life would be flavorless and flat. I’m thankful for you who read my column week after week probably hoping to see some improvement. Those of you who have so kindly e-mailed me especially deserve my thanks your feedback keeps me going. I love your comments and stories, keep them coming! A writer with no audience would be a sad thing indeed.
Lastly, I’m thankful for leftovers! Turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, pumpkin pie, enough to last for days. My only worry is that some morning I may wake up and discover that this little white plastic button has appeared on my chest.
Thought for the week—Why is it called “after dark” when it really is “after light”.
Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.
Whittle12124@yahoo.com