The morning is a delight, a visual delight. The sky is a never ending blue. The sun is stark, sharp, as it often is this time of year. It is cold at 39°. The leaves on the branches are tumbling in the strong breeze. They are the leftover oak leaves. It is nap time for the dogs.

It was an exciting day yesterday. Henry went to the vets. I’m thinking a new Golden Book, Henry visits the Veterinarian. The cover can be Henry in a dog’s hospital gown with a white jacketed vet beside him holding a stethoscope.

Henry surprised me. I had put an afghan and my fleece cover on the back seat. He jumped right inside. He didn’t cry or have spit hanging. He laid right down on my fleece. At the parking lot, he pulled on the leash so I stopped every few feet to keep control. Inside Henry sat between my legs. He was fine in the exam room. He even let the vet check him. I had brought Henry because he kept scratching at his ear, shaking his head and gnawing on two paws. The vet dabbed inside each ear and checked under the microscope. Henry has infections in both ears. He has an allergic reaction on his feet causing the itching. They cleaned his ears and sprayed an anti-biotic into each ear. They gave me pills for the allergies, expensive pills, which he’ll take every day for a bit more than a week. They cut his nails. Henry was wonderful. As for me, I’m still reeling at the cost. The pills alone were nearly $150.00.

The drama was at home. Nala got out when I tried to go in. Henry pulled out of his collar and followed her. They ran across the street then back and forth. This was new territory for them. Henry got close once then took off again. I called and called and finally Nala came and went inside. Henry followed.

Duke, my childhood boxer, seldom came when called. He used to infuriate my father. He’d get out in the morning and follow kids to school so my father had to get him inside the house. I remember my father would be screaming and Duke would stop. He’d look right at my father then turn around and run again. My father would follow in the car. Eventually he’d catch Duke. My mother too would try to get Duke inside. She’d entice him by holding some bologna for him to see. Duke would run to her and grab the bologna leaving my mother holding just a corner. He was one smart dog.

My dance card is empty. I have nothing until uke practice on Tuesday. I figure I’ll do a bit of cleaning including washing the kitchen floor. The rest of the time I’ll be in sloth mode.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I’m watching the parade, a custom since my childhood. I remember sitting on the rug in front of the TV eating snacks. We always had tangerines, M&M’s and mixed nuts in the shell. The nuts were in a bowl, and we had silver crackers and silver picks to pull the nuts out of the shells. The walnuts took some strength. I loved the Brazil nuts. I have a bowl just like the old one. It is wooden and has holes to put the picks and the cracker. I fill the bowl with nuts every year and put it on the dining room table. I keep a bowl of M&M’s here in the den. They don’t last long. All I’m missing are the tangerines.

I still can remember how wonderful the house smelled of turkey. When I close my eyes, I can see my mother in the kitchen getting dinner ready. She’d stand at the counter and peel potatoes, lots of potatoes, and fill pots with the canned veggies, the peas, the asparagus, the corn and the green beans. The stove was small and every burner was filled. The turkey was on the rack at the bottom of the oven. The other rack had been removed to fit the turkey. We always had a big turkey, all the better for leftovers. We’d eat in the kitchen. The house had no dining room. The table and chairs were crammed against the wall. They didn’t fit all of us. My mother ate at the counter. My father carved at the kitchen counter. He was an adept carver. He was the fastest eater. He had a football game to watch. My mother and I cleared the table and washed the dishes and pots and pans. We didn’t have a dishwasher until much later.

Once everything was cleared we brought out the desserts. My father always had a piece of apple pie with a slice of cheddar on the top. I went for the lemon meringue.

The turkey lasted for days. First, we had a repeat dinner then we progressed to open turkey sandwiches covered in gravy and surrounded by veggies. Next came cold turkey sandwiches piled with stuffing and cranberry sauce. I loved those. I’d toast the bread and slather it with mayo. My father picked the turkey clean. He had talent for that. We’d have turkey salad sandwiches and, for the final meal, turkey soup, rich tasting from the carcass boiling for a while.

I’ll eat my turkey dinner around 2 or 3. It has everything including clam chowder and shrimp for the first courses. All the veggies are there, and there is plenty of gravy. I even have a roll. Apple crisp is the dessert. I have to admit, though, I’m missing the lemon meringue pie. Having that for dessert would be perfection.