Thanksgiving Memories - Turkey Day
by Story2 Guest Author, on Nov 28, 2014 1:38:00 PM
With my coffee growing colder, and my Sunday errands list more looming, I went to the kitchen to take inventory for my final pre-Thanksgiving grocery run. Canned pumpkin, check. Pie crusts, check. Peas and potatoes, check. And I slid the short scrap of paper listing cranberry sauce and turkey into my pocket.I stood at the dining room window, Sunday morning coffee in my hand, watching eight turkeys strut in a loose group from the neighboring woods onto my lawn. The hens and toms negotiated for seeds and various edible findings in the grass, occasionally stopping to groom each other. In response to secret turkey triggers unknown to me, from time to time the toms displayed their feathers, to their companions or to no one in particular. Who knows? I smiled.
Typical pre-holiday chaos ruled at the grocery store. A simple mission in mind, I barrelled my way back to the meat department. A frozen turkey of course would never do. A special chest next to the frozen case offered me seemingly a hundred options of various sizes, neatly shrink-wrapped and already in mesh bags. All I had to do was grab a handle and pull one out.
I shoved aside the turkeys that were too small or too large, and yanked my future holiday dinner from the case. I looked at my hands and realized they were coered with a pale bloody juice from the carcasses. And there it was--the difference between what I watched with such appreciation just a couple of hours before and what I was doing in the store was literally staining my hands.
I dropped the turkey back into the case. I wiped my hands on my jeans. I left the store without buying a thing. I went home, straight down into the laundry room, and washed the jeans. I took the jeans from the washer and stood for a moment in front of the dryer before throwing them in the garbage. I have never eaten meat since then.
Written by Story2 Guest Blogger. This is the first post in a three-part series where Story2 team members share their Thanksgiving memories. Share your story at www.Story2.com.