The day before, with the help of their
red haired daughter, Morgan, they had set the round tables with rust
and brown colored tablecloths and napkins. Each table had a
centerpiece of yellow and orange mums interspersed with multicolored
leaves.
The fall is my favorite season with
its beautiful colors and crisp, fresh air. Of course down in the LA
area we don't get too much crisp air, but the Salinas area was
beautiful. Thanksgiving is also my favorite holiday—no gifts to
buy, wrap and worry about, no major house decorating, and no required
church service. Of course, at the dinner table we always go around
the table, giving thanks for the past year's blessings. No matter
how bad a year it may have been, we can always be grateful for our
friends and family and that we have enough (more than enough) to eat.
On Thanksgiving morning my husband,
Joe, and I stopped at Sam's for a light breakfast of croissants and
strong coffee. Sam and Carol's house is located in a beautiful,
wooded area and it was good to see the results of all the work they
had put into making it comfortable. Other family members including
our son, Bill, and his family were there having just arrived from
Idaho.
Will, our 11 year old grandson, was
going through his repertoire of turkey jokes. At that time his
life's ambition was to be a stand up comic.
We paid closer attention when he
qualified one, saying it might be unsuitable for children. His
mother jumped in and said, “Well maybe you better not tell it.”
He brushed her objections aside, “Oh,
Mom, don't worry. It's just a joke.” Then asked, “Does anyone
know why you can't take a turkey to church?”
Grandpa Joe played along with him.
“Gee, I don't know. Why can't you?”
Trying to suppress a grin, Will
replied, “They use FOWL language.”
When his captive audience finished
groaning, he continued on. “What happened when the turkey got into
a fight?”
Winn, Will's younger brother, yelled
out, “Oh I know that one. The turkey got the stuffing knocked out
of him.”
Will gave him a dirty look. “Winn,
you heard me rehearsing. You're not allowed to answer any.” But
he didn't let the interruption stop him, he went on.
“I bet no one else knows what you
get when you cross a turkey with a banjo?”
Before anyone could disappoint Will, I
jumped in to reassure him, “I don't have a clue. What do you get?”
This time, Will had to cover his mouth
to keep from laughing as he explained, “A turkey that can pluck
itself.”
Carol said, “Thank heavens, when you
buy a turkey now they're already plucked and ready for the oven. Of
course, this year I didn't even have to shop for one since the chef
at the club is doing all the cooking.”
Morgan shouted, “Hey everyone. Look
out the window. Guess who's coming to dinner?”
We all turned our heads to look out
the big picture window overlooking the rural road at the side of the
house.
“Oh, my gosh,” I couldn't believe
what I was seeing. I and everyone else went outside to get a better
look. Mitzi, the little dachshund, was barking her head off.
Down the road, walking erratically as
if they hadn't a care in the world, came a flock of white, wild
turkeys. Mitzi was going crazy trying to drive off the intruders.
It was wonderful. I had never seen a flock of turkeys before.
Winn laughed, “Hey, don't they know
it's a dangerous day. They could get eaten.”
Morgan said, “No, they know
everyone's already got their turkey. So they're safe for another
year.”
I added, “Well, it is Thanks
Giving day. They must be thankful they aren't on a dinner
table.” Will, of course, had the last word. Although I think he
must have been thinking about another holiday, Fourth of July –
Independence Day.
He asked another of his 'fowl'
questions. “What did the turkey say to the man who tried to shoot
it?”
Winn's eyes lit up and he opened his
mouth, but Will, with perfect timing, jumped in with the answer.
“Liberty, equality and bad aim for
all.”
The end.
