Wild Turkey Part Deux

In lieu of the impending holiday whereupon we gorge ourselves on turkey and stuffing, here is a repost of my most viewed blog post:

Progression of a Conversation: Wild Turkey

While driving down our private lane...

Dad: Hey there's some wild turkeys over there!

Mom: There's some Wild Turkeys in the car I think.

Me: We have Wild Turkey??

Scandalous

After posting the blog entry about the clown house, my cousin reminded me of something I had long ago forgotten.  It was the scandal involving a bedroom in said house. The people in town spent quite a bit of time whispering and gossiping over the fact that one of the bedrooms was painted Passionate Pink.  Couple this with the intense parties that typically resulted in a bacchanalian skinny dipping fest and you have enough gossip to fuel a small town for months.

That wasn't the only local scandal.  One afternoon around lunch we noticed that the Sheriff was at Miss Mary Jane's house.  At first we (and by we I mean mostly the adults not really the kids) wondered what could be going on.  It couldn't be a true emergency because he hadn't shown up with lights or sirens.  Perhaps she had gotten in trouble.  Imagine the surprise when the Sheriff seemed to be showing up every day at lunch time.  I can distinctly remember my grandmother peeking out the window and saying, "He's back gain Pat" to my aunt.  It was something so gossip worthy that my grandmother talked about it for decades.

So a word to the wise- if you want to be good friends with someone every day at lunch, you might not want to travel there in the Sheriff's car.

Monday Meditation

O, wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
~Percy Bysshe Shelley

"When the trees their summer splendor
Change to raiment red and gold,
When the summer moon turns mellow,
And the nights are getting cold;
When the squirrels hide their acorns,
And the woodchucks disappear;
Then we know that it is autumn,
Loveliest season of the year."
-   Carol L. Riser, Autumn

"A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. 

The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, 

no matter how hushed,
are as crisp as autumn air."
-   Eric Sloane

Veterans

  Thank you to all those who have served and are serving our country.

Postcard from Oregon to his mother

James Jackson Pilot USS Tulip Union Gunboat Civil War

Uncle Oregon WWI

Albert Jackson, my grandfather WWII

 

Possibly Pepop WWII