Turkey Trotting

Turkey and I go way back, as far as disastrous events occurring goes. I don't remember my Mother ever having difficulties with turkey's. She merely went to the store, picked out a bird, popped it in the oven, and later we ate it. It was always wonderfully juicy, succulent, and well turkeyish. Did I weep when the turkey forced the oven to blow up, and we lugged the enormous bird up two storeys and across the apartment complex. No, I just carried on. There is nothing that puts me in the holiday mood as much as my oven blowing up. Or the time the turkey never fully defrosted, after hanging around taking up valuable real estate space in the fridge for two weeks. Then after 6 hours in the oven, it still refused to cook. Waking in the middle of the night, making lists, all topped with "Get TURKEY" I knew that I couldn't relax until I had my bird. Even if it meant shopping after working one of the busiest 8 hour shifts of the year. Fighting our way into the parking lot of our local big "W", the super store version, 5 football fields wide, we hustled into the store. Lamenting the fact that the anxious Christmas shoppers with a full day's head start had probably grabbed every available bird and carted them home to their freezers. We were waved through by wilted greeters, who could barely muster a hello, and stunned to find signs on all the doors saying " We regret that the turkey shipment has not yet arrived." Undaunted, surely they must have turkeys, no matter what the signs said, we walked to the back of the store. And we walked, and walked. And such a sight to behold. There were shoppers with glazed looks on their faces circling the open freezers like sharks around a fish dip, glancing from the empty cold storage, to the signs on the doors of the meat section. The remaining aisles were full of only devastation. There was hardly anything left to purchase. Earlier shoppers had run havoc, after all it was only 6 days to Christmas. They had not only grabbed every possible turkey, they had stripped the shelves bare of any produce, staple, or carbohydrates. Sad, and with sore feet, our story doesn't end there. We did finally manage to get our turkey from somewhere else, and it is happily defrosting in the fridge, and as far as I know, the big "W" isn't going to get their million dollar shipment of turkey until next month. Not much demand for them then. Me, I am happily crossing that chore off of my list. And looking forward to a good nights sleep. Just to reassure everyone that I would never, ever think of having a purple poinsettia in my house. These shots were taken at West Coast Flowers garden centre.