Thanksgiving Turkey Tradition

Thanksgiving Day Turkey

Happy Thanksgiving from all the Grassy Knoll Institute rocket scientists.

Typical Thanksgiving at the GKI.
Of course, our Thanksgiving day meal is all about the turkey. Doesn't it look just delicious?
Stuffing, home made and cooked with the turkey allowing the natural juices of the turkey to soak through adding that perfect blend of taste and texture.
Mashed potatoes, not the instant type, but peeled and mashed and cooked potatoes. (Sidenote: peel a potato. Run it under cold water for 30 seconds. Sprinkle just a dash of salt and bite into a delectable treat)
Corn, not on the cobb, but fresh corn smothered in butter and pepper.
Cranberries, a little wild tasting, especially if you take a sip of cold milk right before or after taking a bite on cranberries. (Go ahead, you know you want to try that)
Pea's and carrots, which I usually pass to the family member on my left.
Crescent rolls, hot from the oven, smothered in butter.
Celery, plain, with cream cheese, and peanut butter.
Green olives, Cashews, Chocolates.
Dessert, Pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie.
A lot of football in between and after.

And today as we celebrate Thanksgiving, let us all remember John F. Kennedy, out 35th president who was assassinated this day 44 years ago.

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I Am Glad I Picked You

I saw you across a crowded room.
Among all the others that were there.
The lights seemed to shine down on you alone.
I knew then that I had to have you for my own.
Willingly, you came with me to my home. From the car, I carried you through the door.
Looking at you, I admired your body, your well shaped legs, and breasts.
Slowly I remove what wraps, were around your body so tightly,
fitting you like a glove. Exposing your tender white skin.
From your neck, I remove your charms, and carry you off in my arms, to the warm water that waits.
The water cascades down your neck, flowing over your soft breasts and then, making your legs glisten with wetness.
Droplets of water cover your taut skin.
My hands rub your body all over....ummmmmmmm,
running them through the beads of water.
Making them trickle down off your body.
I place my fingers inside you.
You are warm and moist, so ready.
I carry your still dripping body, to a laying place,
so that I can put inside you what was well prepared to enter you before we even came through the door.
As soon as I lay you down your legs spread open wide.
You are ready now and so am I.
I put a little in slowly at first,
getting a feel for how much you can take in.
I put in more, you take it willingly.
In anticipation, faster and faster I put it in.
Pushing it in deeply as far as I can, until I can't put any more in.
You are so tight.
With your legs wrapped tightly, not wanting to release any of it,
I make you so hot for a very long time,
until your sweet juices escape from within.
Then I taste you, with my tongue at first,
your skin is so soft and tender.
I taste more of you with my mouth,
you are so hot and moist, you taste so good.
Your juices coating my mouth, making me drool in anticipation of eating you more, with every taste.

Oh yes, I say to you, I must say grace........

Thank God for Butterball turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving From The Grassy Knoll Institute.

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Hide The Sausage

Holiday Turkey Shoot

Thanksgiving and Christmas were very special times growing up as a lad. You see, we only had turkey dinners on these two days and with seven brothers and sisters, it was a scramble for leftovers the next day. Of course, as always, there was plenty of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and all the fixings the day of the holiday. It was the days after that concerned us.

The day after Thanksgiving and Christmas all the kids would run to the fridge for leftovers. Who am I kidding; we were drooling for some leftover turkey. Sure, the other leftovers were good and complimented the turkey ensemble but the turkey was the prized possession. Problem was, seven kids plus two parents and only one fridge and only a certain amount of turkey leftovers. This meant that the leftovers were gobbled up the day after and we would then have to wait for the next holiday.

This brought on another family tradition. Each child, and parent, would hack off some turkey and hide it some place in the fridge. At first it was simple to find the hidden treasure (Turkey) as it was placed behind milk cartons, behind a Coke bottle, inserted in the Land O Lakes butter box, and in the bottom crisper door. We then became a little more creative and began taping the turkey (In bags of course) to the ceiling of the fridge and behind items that would stay in one place for a while. In time, all hiding places were quickly found and pillaged like Vikings on a drunken binge.

Until I found the ultimate hiding place. Of course, because it was winter, it was cold outside and we had plenty of snow. One time, the day after Christmas, I built a snowman in the backyard. I then carefully inserted the wrapped up turkey in the center of the snowman and filled it in with snow. The perfect icebox.

Several freezing days went by and the turkey and all the trimmings were long gone. It was time to strike. I put my coat on and went outside to play. I immediately went to the garage, got my dads screwdriver, and chipped out the block of frozen turkey hidden in the mid-section of the snowman. Into the house and to the kitchen I went. I turned on the oven to low heat and put in the turkey. Ten minutes later, it was thawed and warm. The turkey was fantastic. Within minutes, several brothers and sisters came in to investigate as the smell of turkey filled the kitchen. Many questions were asked where it was hidden but no answers were offered. I had found the perfect hiding place.

Footnote: The next year, I built another snowman and hid the turkey in the same spot. Several days later I went out for the turkey and dug it out. Like the last year, I went inside and turned on the oven and unwrapped the turkey delight. But something was terribly wrong. As the outer tin foil wrap was taken off, there was only a block of ice and a sandwich baggie with a piece of paper in it.

The note simply said, saw you building the snowman, took a guess and got lucky. Thanks.

It would be years later that my brother George told me he was the one who saw me building the snowman and guessed that was my secret hiding place.

R.I.P. George 11/20/1997

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