What I'm Thankful For
Preparing the Thanksgiving turkey at 6:30am provided opportunity for me to be deeply philosophical. There are a lot of people who contribute to Thanksgiving celebrations, but don't get nearly enough thanks. Those fine people who toil behind the scenes, but whose efforts get overlooked. Today, I take time out to thank one of those fine people.
A hearty "thank you" to whoever put the bag of giblets inside my turkey. I salute you.
The thought came to me as I plunged my hand into the chilly innards of my turkey carcass. Somebody had to put that bag of giblets in there. But do they ever get any love? No. Typical protocol is to mockingly schlep the giblets onto the one elderly person at Thanksgiving dinner who actually enjoys them. The other option is an unceremonious toss into the trash can.
I didn't want the giblet stuffer's efforts to go to waste. I pondered what to do with them for a while, then finally settled on providing my loved dogs with a Thanksgiving treat. The ceremony was respectful and well received. I did get a little frustrated when Zeke took his giblet portion to the carpet to enjoy in private, but I lived.
On a related giblet note, I came to the realization that the giblet bag pulled from my turkey probably did not contain the actual giblets that belonged to that turkey. I doubt that they pulled the giblets, bagged them and immediately placed them back with their original owner. And, as far as I could tell, there were not tracking devices or markings on either the bird nor it's giblets. Thus, the likely scenario is that giblets are removed, thrown into a giblet bin and then later divvied up.
Which leads me to the conclusion that on the off-hand chance turkeys get resurrected at the second coming of Christ that there will be a pretty dramatic situation going down in the frozen poultry isle at your local grocer.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Fair Dinkum
A hearty "thank you" to whoever put the bag of giblets inside my turkey. I salute you.
The thought came to me as I plunged my hand into the chilly innards of my turkey carcass. Somebody had to put that bag of giblets in there. But do they ever get any love? No. Typical protocol is to mockingly schlep the giblets onto the one elderly person at Thanksgiving dinner who actually enjoys them. The other option is an unceremonious toss into the trash can.
I didn't want the giblet stuffer's efforts to go to waste. I pondered what to do with them for a while, then finally settled on providing my loved dogs with a Thanksgiving treat. The ceremony was respectful and well received. I did get a little frustrated when Zeke took his giblet portion to the carpet to enjoy in private, but I lived.
On a related giblet note, I came to the realization that the giblet bag pulled from my turkey probably did not contain the actual giblets that belonged to that turkey. I doubt that they pulled the giblets, bagged them and immediately placed them back with their original owner. And, as far as I could tell, there were not tracking devices or markings on either the bird nor it's giblets. Thus, the likely scenario is that giblets are removed, thrown into a giblet bin and then later divvied up.
Which leads me to the conclusion that on the off-hand chance turkeys get resurrected at the second coming of Christ that there will be a pretty dramatic situation going down in the frozen poultry isle at your local grocer.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Fair Dinkum