I gotta say, there was nothing more filling and satisfying than the turkey my Gran cooked on thanksgiving. That and the stuffing were dinner that day and lunches for a couple more. I loved it all - the meal, the leftovers, the feeling of fullness. I even loved the washing up and the cleaning, radio on, singing out of tune - it's all part of the holiday, isn't it?
The turkey that had strutted around the yard these past few weeks, soaking in the long-day summer rays, had been rather fragrantly stuffed and roasted to golden perfection.
The thanksgiving turkey adorned the table, a golden hued skin amid the festive cranberry and green beans.
"Dear God," said Bentley, at thanksgiving dinner, "I sure hope this here turkey had a good life, because I sure as heck is gonna gobble him up."
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