Pots and pans are on the stove, the table has been set for three, a Butterball Turkey browns in the oven. It took four hours for this bird to cook and slicing it up on the kitchen counter means dinner is close. Alan, Sherrie, and I have Thanksgiving this year at Alan’s. At the White House, a Trump turkey is pardoned but White House chefs are in their sparkling kitchens preparing a big feast of beef, ham, salmon fit for a King and Queen. Dignitaries visit America’s White House throughout the year, and, while discussing policy, like to wine and dine as befits their diplomatic positions. On a turkey’s calendar, November 22 is marked with a huge X and circled for emphasis. On Thanksgiving, they load their families into their SUV’s, tuck in their feathers, and go to the beach, out of harm’s way. Next year I’m planning on being  there with them. Seeing turkeys, in bikini’s, is something I just don’t want to miss.  
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