Starving…

Funny thing happened about 4 AM. I woke up thinking about Thanksgiving dinner. Don’t usually think about that in October. But I do have a history with the meal itself. It started when I was born on Thanksgiving day. It took a year or so for me to get ready for a Thanksgiving meal, but thanks to a Mother who was an imaginative and a traditional fine cook, it couldn’t have been too many years.

When we married, Jo Ann and I plunged right into our family traditions, which were pretty much the same, since our Mothers and Fathers attended the same college in Kentucky at roughly the same time.

Anyway, be that as it may, back to my morning vision. I got to thinking about how we would go about preparing our meal, which doesn’t include our kids anymore. We do miss them. Unfortunately, they are spread clear across the country and we don’t travel anymore. That’s the sad part. But we have great fun cooking together.

Again, I ramble.

I thought about turkey (more like a hen these days), dressing, gravy, sweet potatoes, creamed onions, yeast rolls, pumpkin pie – and other things that didn’t occur to me as I lay there visualizing. And getting hungrier by the minute. Fact is, I was starved. About ah hour later, I rolled over and tapped Jo Ann on the shoulder. She opened her eyes and gave me her startled look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m hungry…”

“What?”

“Starved, in fact.

“What? … Are you crazy? What are you hungry for?”

“Turkey.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Dressing. Sweet potatoes. Your great rolls.”

It went on for a bit, my not getting much satisfaction from our conversation. Later, when we finally got up to take the dogs out, I said, “I’m really hungry.”

“Turkey.” she replied.

“Yep.”

No further comment from her.

Happy Thanksgiving. Oh, I’m starved.