Turkey Day

Is this one of them special Turkey Day’s? From my childhood, I seem to remember Thanksgiving falling on the twenty fifth was a good omen for a Christmas season’s special beginning.
Well so we’ve got rain this morning. It could have been snow if it were just a little bit colder. Letters of old were better written and mailed in time for North Pole delivery. Santa those years always looked and sounded better at Sears. We had the most fun finding our special Christmas tree, always sitting off to one side nobody else wanted. That’d be one them year’s we’d be trimming the lopiest sided fire tree blessed with a bird’s nest making it even extra special having had a family living it, building it, filling it, with devoted love before its blessing had been brought into our happy home; for my parents were always the happiest billing and cooiest couple of people I was to ever know. They were magic. TV was never as good, even when it come along, as my parent watching. They were a real hoot always doing for each other I reaped a lot of the extra love.
Spring’s survey my first twenty two years born and brought up for that one special girl. Summer’s beginning was finding whom I was born to love and live for. It was an adventure only a man and woman meant for each other could gleam those many magic moments what magical living flying faster than I could remember. Fall’s remembering, recapping so many moments, with time to laugh at all the pitfalls we had survived. Watching each son and daughter fall in love. This was a time we learned what it was all about loving a spouse to keep and loving a child to give away.
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Going to be a busy morning. While the bird thaws, I’ve ladies a-field and kitties down in the barn to tend to. Then I must hurry back clean up, change, and start my stuffings, my vegtables, and more importantly somebody else is making the pies.
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Having packed up dinner we shared it in another’s household. On getting back in time my able to see myself doing the evening chores. I see the ladies have near destroyed another hay ring. They about a 1/3 of their present hay ring folded into. Sheesh, I have two new things I’ve got to do tomorrow. One: unload scrap wood and fence posts off flat rake hay wagon. Two: replace damaged hay ring with a better one and take the broken to shop for another repair. Third: use empty hay wagon again to bring up out of the field two plastic electrical conduit spools for refashioning iton extremely heavy duty hay rings. Four: on flat rack wagon haul spools to shop for disassembly. And while Greene needs refueling I’m going to wonder when I’ll find time to order parts I can’t afford for quadracycle?
While I’m at it I’m going to wonder when will I ever finish the Azzkicker and now a new wrinkle…how will I ever make it winter usable? A very good question for using such a delicate contraption, no letting the ribbon of choice for the gate, keeping it from either freezing down or become mired in the mud tractor tires passing over it both ways? Hmmm, I wonder if I could rig something up and down liking a railroad crossing gate?
Now that I’ve re-raised some questions to dream on?
“Rainbows.”
Fernan