The Light-And-Frothy Post: Turkeys and Thanksgiving

Which I promised.  It didn't work out very well, did it?  So this is an attempt to fix things a little.

First, wild turkeys outside attacked a car driving by.  Revenge for Thanksgiving?  You decide.  The attack wasn't terribly efficient but it was heroic.

They are handsome birds, by the way, those wild turkeys.  The domestic variety must have been created by Mary Shelley, who wrote about  Frankenstein's monster.  She is the Mother of Horror Literature.  And also the daughter of the famous Mary Wollstonecraft.

That had nothing to do with turkeys!  But it's the lateral way my snake brain slithers.

More on Thanksgiving:  I don't eat turkeys and I don't eat pumpkin pie.  The first refusal is a principal one, the second refusal a taste-bud one.  Pumpkin pie stands high on the rankings of Thing That Should Never Have Been Invented.  Right after currants which look and taste like rabbit poo (don't ask me how I know).

Now you will all hate me...

Pecan pie, on the other hand, is delicious, especially if made fairly small so that the crust and the filling are in balance.

Thanksgiving is a wonderful idea, especially if detached from its historical contest and just thought of as a time to give thanks.  I give thanks for not having to eat currants (because I'm an adult!  adults can refuse!) and I give thanks to all of you invisible smart and kind people out there.