(Or should I say "Happy Black Friday"?)
We have had a very busy week. We were trying to get some more of the house deep cleaned as well as do some other things on Monday. Then on Tuesday my grandparents came down after lunch. They haven't been down since June. Just after the Tornado. We had Thanksgiving on Wednesday so that yesterday my brother and sister-in-law could go to her families house for yet another Thanksgiving. The kids were such fun. :) Funny Boy (age 2) helped me roll my rolls into crescents. Very cute to watch him. :) A few times he decided he needed to squeeze the roll he had just made so that it sort of squished. Oh well. They may not look perfect, but they taste good. By the way, those rolls are about the only bread thing I make. I've made them for years and no one else has tried making them.
Yesterday we raked leaves. Our yard was covered with leaves since we have so many trees! Anyone want to come play in the piles? Dad also took out our old front door and put in a brand new one! Wow!!! It looks so neat! But not like our house. We've had the same old door since we moved into this house a little more than 24 years ago. Today he has to finish it and put in the screen/storm door. Grandma and Grandpa leave sometime today. Don't know if it will be before or after lunch. Then it will be getting ready for the next thing. Like I said, this is a busy week.
We will finish un-decorating, and making sure we are ready because tonight our three unmarried "heart-sisters" are coming. And tomorrow is Decorating Day! That means J & M will be here with their 4 kids, our other "heart-sister" and her husband and baby will be here as well as my sister-in-laws parents and we'll decorate the whole house. And finally, finally we'll play Christmas music!
I don't know if you've figured it out yet or not, but I have been too busy to write this week. I was very thankful I had something to post. I hope you enjoy the last part of Danny's Thanksgiving. Tell me what you think of it.
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!
After supper, I brought out my homework and began to study. I wanted to get it all done and out of the way that night. Josh studied too, but he always gets done first. He is really good at school and Pa has talked about sending him to college in a few years.
I don’t know why it was so difficult to get my homework done that night. Perhaps it was because there was more since I had to make up yesterday’s work too, or perhaps I was just extra tired. All I know is that I was really struggling. Pa and Uncle Scott were in the front room talking so I couldn’t ask Pa for help and when Josh finished he joined them. Ma and Aunt Katy were finishing up the dishes. I must have sighed or something because suddenly Aunt Katy turned around and asked if I was having trouble.
“Yes,” I replied, staring at my book.
“Perhaps I can help,” she offered, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside me. “I used to teach school, you know.”
I didn’t know, but I soon found out that she knows a lot and can explain things well. I found myself starting to like her. She could do things besides sit reading novels and eating bonbons as I always pictured city girls doing. When I made a mistake in division, she didn’t just tell me it was wrong, she helped me find my mistake. By the time the evening was over, my homework was completely finished and I was glad Uncle Scott had married Aunt Katy. I was still expecting to go hunt turkeys with only Pa and Josh in the morning, but such was the way of things.
When Josh and I went to go check the animals in the barn before bed, I told him about Aunt Katy helping with the homework.
“I guess you like her now, huh?” he asked.
“What makes you think I didn’t like her before?” I questioned. Surely it hadn’t been that obvious.
Josh replied quietly, “You never talk about what you don’t like.”
Thinking about it, I realized he was right. If I like something I’ll talk about it, but seldom do I talk about what I dislike.
Wednesday dawned clear and cold. The snow was about six to seven inches deep with drifts in some places of close to a foot. To my surprise, Uncle Scott came along to hunt turkeys and Pa stayed home. Wellington and I led the way to where the turkeys usually were. Sure enough they were there. At least half a dozen of them. Wellington knows enough about hunting not to make a sound, but he nudged me when he caught the scent of them for they were up wind of us. I glanced over at Uncle and Josh. Uncle had his gun raised as did Josh. I raised mine wondering what we would do if we each killed a bird.
The quiet of the snowy morning was shattered by the sounds of our guns. At the sound the flock of turkeys began waddling away as quickly as they could. They couldn’t exactly run because of the snow. Two of the birds had been hit. One was dead and the other only wounded. I made a motion with my arm and Wellington charged through the snow after the wounded one.
“Now that was a great shot if I ever saw one!” Uncle Scott exclaimed, lowering his own gun. “Which of you claim the dead one?”
I knew it wasn’t mine. I had missed completely, but Josh was shaking his head. “It wasn’t my bird,” he said. “I only injured mine.”
“Well, it had to be someone’s.”
I looked at Uncle. “It was yours.”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t have been,” he answered, “I didn’t even fire.”
Josh and I exchanged glances. This was most unusual. By then Wellington had caught the wounded turkey and was bringing it back to where we were now standing next to the dead bird. Who did shoot it?
“Maybe you pulled the trigger and didn’t mean to,” Josh suggested to Uncle Scott.
He shook his head again. “Couldn’t have happened. My finger wasn’t even on the trigger, so one of you must have shot it. Come on now, which of you did it?”
“I only shot once,” Josh said, “and this one is mine,” and he picked up the now dead bird that Wellington had just retrieved.
“My bird got away,” I protested. “I wish I’d shot this one,” I had knelt down and was examining the bird. It had been shot right through the heart. “I know I’m not that good of a shot.”
Wellington whined and nudged me. “Don’t worry, boy, we’re going to take it home too, unless someone else comes to claim it. If Pa were here I’d say he did it,”
“I think he would have claimed it, Danny, if he had,” Josh said softly.
“Well, no use just standing here. I suggest we follow Wellington’s advice and head for home. Here, Danny,” Uncle said, “I guess you’ll have to carry that bird.”
“Wait a minute,” Josh stopped suddenly and looked at me. “Danny, where was the bird standing that you were aiming for?”
I pointed to a place. “Right about there. Why?”
“That’s your bird then,” and Josh jerked his head towards the one I was holding.
Completely puzzled, I looked first at the bird, then at Josh and then at Uncle. Uncle Scott looked just as puzzled as I felt.
“Explain your theory, Josh,” Uncle said.
“Danny has a habit of closing the wrong eye when he’s aiming. If he thought he was aiming over there, this one would have been in his sights instead.”
Bursting into a hearty roar of laughter, Uncle Scott clapped me on the back. “Then the gun is yours, Danny!” And still laughing he started back to the house.
After thinking it over, I had to believe Josh’s theory. I know I sometimes close my right eye instead of my left one when I’m aiming, but never once have I hit something by doing that.
Pa laughed almost as much as Uncle did about my shooting. But, I got the rifle. I was pleased, I must say. Josh is a much better shot than I am, really, but maybe if I stop closing the wrong eye I’ll get better.
We dressed both birds, but Josh’s bird we hung in the smoke house while mine was stuffed to bursting with Mother’s dressing. The rest of the day was busy. I kept the wood box filled for Mother and Aunt Katy. Aunt Katy even cut me a slice of her hot bread. It was almost as good as Mother’s. When I told her that, she laughed and said it was the highest compliment I could give her. Wellington begged for a piece, so I had to share.
That Thanksgiving was the best I’d ever had. Mother banished everyone from the kitchen except Aunt Katy and me. Even Wellington was shut out. Mother told me I was only allowed because of my ability to bring the right size wood in. Well, at least I can do something even if I can’t aim right.
What a feast we sat down to that afternoon. The table was in danger of splitting from all the loads of good things to eat. Pa had invited Carl Smith to join us for Thanksgiving since he didn’t have any family around. We ate until we could not eat one more bite. Even Wellington, who had been lying beside my chair, had his share of good food. As we all reclined in our chairs too stuffed to move more than necessary, Pa brought out the Bible and opening it to the Thanksgiving psalm, began,
“Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good . . .”
Looking around the room, I was thankful. Thankful for my family, for Wellington, for Uncle Scott and yes, for Aunt Katy too. So many blessings, I never would be able to just name a few.
The sun had set and the men folks were out finishing up the chores. Carl had departed earlier, leaving just us with Uncle Scott and Aunt Katy.
“Da--nny!” I heard Mother call across the snowy yard.
“Go on,” Pa told me. “We’ll finish up here.”
The snow crunched under our feet as Wellington and I trudged through the drifts towards the house.
“We need more stove wood, Danny,” Mother told me from the porch. “We want to make some hot cocoa, so would you bring some in, please?”
“Come on Wellington. At least we know how to bring in wood.”
Wellington answered with a bark.
What did you think of the last of it?