Become a Fan
A Thanksgiving Tale, or was it Giving Thanks, Part 4.
By Ch'erie de Perrot
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
The Dogs, goodness I clean forgot the dogs!!
After we had anchored that beautiful Yacht in the Calm waters neath a new smiling sunny sky, in the reknown inlet called Gordon's Bay, all were more than relieved.
Father was quiet, and no one mentioned a word of his panic, well not for a while anyway. My Brother who'd resembled Casper, in between hurling over the side, stood upright and announced that he hadn't been the least bit worried.
Of Course that was met with plenty of jeering from Cousin Ella and Cousin Dale, who knew darn well better.
Mother looked a little worse for wear and tear, but still kept her usual composure, whilst Aunty was upright and rearing to go.
Then I remembered the Dogs! Where were the dogs?
Well, amid all the hilarity, they had taken refuge underneath the seating at the fore of the vessel, and there they had remained till deeming it safe to surface.
Both of them hopped up the stairs, out through the hatch, sniffed the air for a moment, and then without further ado, Trixie, leapt over the side for a nice refreshing swim.
Mandy, stood at the edge for a while watching her doggie pal swimming happily around the yacht, then plunged in after her. I had never seen her swim so efficiently, and with those big Bassett paws, she made short work of lapping Trixie.
That provided the entire family with some much needed comic relief. The sombre mood had lifted and pretty soon we were all engaged in sorting out the food, to be lowered down into the Dinghy.
Our Plan was to row to the shore, climb the hill and have our Turkey dinner under the palm trees at the top. These were no ordinary Tree's as I was later to discover, but for now, it was all hands on deck.
Order came to the occupants of the Oasis. Of course us older Kids were in an all fire hurry to get into that Dinghy and row over to shore. One thing at a time of course though. Certain duties had to be carried out to ensure the Yacht was properly secured before we even thought about it.
Ironically not one of us were in any hurry to eat those Turkey's who'd only hours before were a bone of contention with Mother.She did make mention of the status of the flesh however, not letting an opportunity pass by to remind both my Brother and Cousin about the buckshot situation!
I think it all fell on deaf ears though as we all readied ourselves to board the tiny Dinghy in comparison. My Brother rowed The first contingent ashore, consisting of Mother, and two of the smaller sibs.
The others followed thereafter, in what order I cannot remember, I was just darn glad to make dry land.
Humping heavy picnic baskets up the hill, and ekeing out a suitable place to park our sorry carcases, we soon found refuge for the afternoon, under these enourmous Palms.
Now these palm tree's are native to New Zealand. I only know them as Nee Cow palms, least that's how it sounded to me. Seemed like an odd name, but then again, most things sound odd in New Zealand, and I would have to look up the correct spelling of those particular palm trees.
In any case we all gathered about Mother and Aunty in anticipation for the spread of food.
I got a whiff of the Turkey, and instantly felt nausea again.
It wasn't that there was anything wrong with those Turkeys, or any of the other delicious foods prepared, more to the point that food so soon after that bashing to our senses, was uninviting.
Mother suggested we settle down for a while, before bothering with food, uttering that "Quite Frankly, I don't feel much like eating either"
I am very glad she did, for that gave us time to explore this part of the Island, frollick about as kids do, and engage in a new sport that our anxious cousins were eager to introduce us too.
This sport was none other than, nee cow palming it down the slopes, in a hollowed out shell from the tree's. It was like snow tobboganing like we had done up our mountain so many times, only on grass.
We all took turns, slipping down the hill, squeeling madly as we went, and ending up tumbling clean out of the large shell.
It was all good fun, though we did aquire a few grass burns, that needed attending to with some old fashioned first aid.
I think it was that red stuff we called mecurochrome, or something of the sort, who cares, we had to much fun.
Of course all this hooning up and down the hill, which atop the old birdie, namely Mother was sitting came to a halt, when we were all hollered at to get up there and eat that cussed Turkey!
Father had been off with Uncle exploring the terrain of course. They had gone off and checked out the positioning, making sure no wily natives were about anywhere. HAHA, by that I mean no other families.
Uncle was rather an unsociable person that way, and preferred if possible to have the entire grassy Knoll to himself, and us of course. Aunty cared less either way, for she was such a calm and soothing woman.
I do not think that my Brother was in any hurry to sit down and eat, that was evident by his continual loitering about. However, he was motioned to park his backside down so the rest of us could tuck in.
Oh did I mention the Dogs had jumped into the Dinghy, No of course I didn't, but they were there happily gollicking up and down, around and about all the while.
Everyone was anxious to eat the bread, the Salad, the scones...But there was a great deal of reservation about those darn Turkey's. Finally Someone grabbed a leg, and tucked in. I heard no cracking of teeth, so I took a nice hunk as well.
At one stage I saw Father Shray something out between his false teeth, but he didn't mention what it was. I don't think he was in any frame of mind to start ruckions again. I do believe Brother was grateful for this.
Tween two families, two Turkey's were consumed up on that hill, who had no wedding ring in his wing either!
All ate heartily, then of course came time for a nap, before the sun made for the west end of the sky, and it was time to pack up our things and head down the hill.
So our Christmas day came to an end, as we all trooped in an orderly fashion, boarded the awaiting Dinghy again in like manner, rowing toward the Oasis.
She floated upright, like a queen of the sea's, proud and glistening in the afternoon sun. What a welcoming sight she was to behold. What a seaworthy craft she truly was!
Later on that night as we lay in our beds, listening to the sounds of the waves lapping against the side of Oasis, I mused at a terrible thought.
Oh My Gosh, whoever finds all those Turkey Bones up there, is going to wonder what terrible thing took place atop that grassy knoll.
I closed my eyes with a smile on my face, thinking HUH, they will get a heck of a fright!!.
Ch'erie de Perrott
No Bones were consumed by the Dogs, Mother always maintained that any Fowl bones were apt to splinter, thus piercing a dogs stomach, in any case they never got close enough to find out LOL.That was our Christmas day Turkey feast. The next time we sailed in the gulf, it was for two weeks!
Want to review or comment on this
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|Reviewed by Kathy Armijo
|This is a wonderful piece, complete with the "Oh,my gosh!" aspects of real life.
God bless you. Kathy
|Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
|a wonderful tale with all the elements to make it interesting and fun|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|What a marvelous child hood memory to share in such a wonderful fashion, loved the blend of adventure, fear, humour and family values blended together to keep this story real. This definately should be sent out for submission to Magazines and papers with the Christmas season approaching.
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Excellent! Reminds me of the Bumpus dogs in "A Christmas Story." LOL Well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, and Happy Thanksgiving, Karla.
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|Excellent write, Chazz; very well penned! BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in America, Karen Lynn in Texas. :D
|Reviewed by Louisa Dobbins
|Tell that to my husband.......Poor China...|
Ch'erie de Perrot