It’s the Monday after Thanksgiving, bright and early in the morning. The sun is shining giving the promise of a splendid day ahead. I am sitting at my writer’s desk penning my blog for the new week ahead and for some reason contemplating lunch which is several hours away.
Why, you ask, would I be thinking of the second meal of the day having only just broken my fast from the night before? My answer to you, as if you haven’t already guessed, is my previously planned fare for this midday meal. Yup, it’s a turkey sandwich, my staple for the past five days.
Fresh in my mind I remember alluding to the cache of leftovers in last week’s blog that would invade my diet for the next week. However, this overabundance of foul fowl may be perceived as pro or con.
Some folks could eat turkey every day if not every meal. For my tastes once a year is quite enough, which is why we have prime rib for Christmas.
I just glanced at the sundial on the wall, and see that it’s time for the 12 o’clock force feeding. To everyone who shares my feelings for eating one of the smartest avians in the wild . . . when grown in captivity . . . not so much. Hang in there, this soon will pass.