Worzel here, well most years we went camping over Thanksgiving Weekend, delighting in the warmth of our cabin, cutting firewood, morning paddles, our canoe gently parting the cold, platinum lake. This year, however, we delayed our camp out, Godfrey was with us, normally he would cheek our land-lady, Mrs Feerce when she yelled at him on the stairs, but not on Thanksgiving…ours was an old building, small apartments, tired rooms, our neighbors an eclectic lot. Godfrey invited all to a Thanksgiving Feast- he had won a 40# turkey, in a store raffle, the very shop we were escorted from most Tuesdays. “Nothing is better than free- No Pasaran Beets” read the invitation, From Godfrey. All we had to do was head out and collect the bird.  

      It was at first, rather foreign to Godfrey, our autumn holiday  to give thanks for our living, in peace and plenty, with friends to share, in our flat above the shop, thanks for the good life we had built there.   October also meant parting, as with the fall gales, Godfrey set sails most years for warmer climes, “Oh bugger me days!, oh Godfrey I cried, what will become of us?, we have misplaced our turkey, ruined Thanksgiving, I have left our turkey on the #50 bus!”

The bus was manky, and crowded, and smelled of fried fat, we left our turkey on the luggage rack, we were wedged to the back. A fellow argued with his sister, although she was not there, and not from water the only vacant seat was wet, we bailed off laughing, before our stop, twas Godfrey’s wet behind caused me to forget…”we rang “lost items”, no turkey”.                “I stood hours in the rain, said Godfrey, flagging down every #50 bus, no lost turkeys. “We sent Garnet to the shops, no turkeys left, just parts like feet, innards, gizzardy bits, and bagged guts”. “We had company coming, and lost our dinner on the #50 bus”.

“Godfrey writes-  to the nasty old bus yard we slogged, in the rain to the “Lost and Found”. “I said hello, I am Godfrey, we have lost our turkey”, to the first bored clerk I tracked down.  “Two others sat, betting pennies on raindrops that trickled along the window, the fourth chap, a driver was nicer, (Worzel sought out a loo”) I will not bear describing the things I found,  that people lost on the buses, to you. ” “Worzel appeared, “Yes, said she, a turkey, I lost it, was too cold to hold, and that was the worst toilet I ever have seen”. “A study in bilious green how many years has it been since that ladys’ was clean?

“Silent we walked, her hand in mine, knowing full well where it had been”. Worzel and I walked home turkey-less, long ago on Canadian Thanksgiving. “It dripped that evening, fog beyond harbor wall. We kicked ourselves through the sodden leaves, early days yet of golden fall. “I thought as we walked, said to Worzel, “many who ride the #50 bus, are much less fortunate than us”. “I hope that the whom found our turkey and took it, has good friends to share, and an oven to cook it”. Indeed,” we are blessed with plenty, said she, we lost a 40# turkey, and gained a good story”.

“We had clams, and cabbage rolls, salmon with stuffing, sausage from a deer Mrs Feerce’s daughter had shot, we had french onion soup from the slow cooker pot, no one noticed we had no turkey that Worzel forgot”. “Old Miss Pettigrew brought apple sauce, Mrs Feerce, pickles, we had pumpkin pie, and cake, lemonade and brandy, Godfrey played his guitar, charmed our dragon-land-lady. Even Mr Ghostley, oddest neighbor of all, accepted a plate, I left outside his door, in the hall.  “Lonewolf gave the blessing, in soft spoken word, he and partner Ginger were old friends of Godfrey,” Ginger, something of a binger on pastries, relaxed in my turquoise chair, the two of us discussed toilets, and her trip to Iceland, shared photos of toilets they found there.

Godfrey concludes- “I dislike beets, thus reminded my Ma, when given her advice, long ago upon leaving home”    “She said, “don’t fall on that head, I painfully bore, or knock out those teeth, those teeth I paid for”. “seek the reason for the beets you abhor”….”So I did, collected wisdom, now I know, such good friends I have had chance to meet, all because of the dreaded beet”    “I stood this night at the harbor window, looking out where tug, towing barge was passing slow. Gave silent thanks for the #50 bus, and Happy Thanksgiving,  to all the good people I know..Thank you from Godfrey.


4 thoughts on “CANADIAN THANKSGIVING-(Was Worzel Lost it)

  1. “many who ride the #50 bus, are much less fortunate than us”. More reasons why I would have liked Godfrey. I’m sick of listening to people with lots complaining about what they haven’t got.

    • Me to, John..we are a nation of whiners here, the latest being waiting 15 minutes in line to vote in a advance pole, and uproar over a bump on a bridge repair people had to slow down for, made the national news. You and Godfrey would have had some great times yarning…Happy Thanksgiving -only holiday I do.

  2. Worzel, seems this Thanksgiving Ginger will be showing off her latest Loo to a guest willing to view the burgundy & yellow layout and Lonewolf will be saying quiet prayers on behalf of Ginger & guest for so very many awe-filled blessings bestowed upon us all. You, Godfrey, Beatrice, Alice et al. are at the top of the gratitude list! ((hugs))

  3. Happy Thanksgiving to big old house on windy end, any cougars about your yard? ..was a wonderful, pelting rain as I posted this, and learned “Binger” is not a proper word. I wish you both all the joy 5 toilets can bring, thank you…

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