This postcard brought back memories of an incident in my early 20's. I was sitting at a picnic table near the edge of the Willamette River. I'd visited that park to do some artwork in a quiet setting. Suddenly I heard some whining, pinging sounds in the leaves just overhead. Ripped leaves drifted down onto my drawings.
I'd never heard anything like it before, so I left my artwork to run to the bank of the river. There was a boat load of men with guns floating offshore. In the water floated the large goose they'd shot. As soon as they saw me they gunned the engine and roared off in a huge toss of water. The wake of the wave floated that bird to me.
I pulled the freshly shot goose out of the water, wrapped it in a plastic bag and took it home to Grammie. With a little grin, Grammie told me if I wanted to eat this bird--she would show me how to prepare it. Grammie taught me how to pluck the bird--you immerse the entire bird in boiling hot water. This loosens the feathers. And BOY do feathers smell bad. Plucking a bird takes a certain technique and HOURS of time. Then she taught me how to remove feet and head, then gut the innards. Sorry if that's gross--but that is what had to be done.
As I recall, though it was a bit stringy, that goose was quite tasty.
There is so much for which to be thankful this Thanksgiving.
Daddy will be leaving us soon, but he will be joining so many people he loves in heaven. We will grieve--but he will be in a better place. My husband's cancer surgery is set for December 5th, I am praying for his complete recovery. How thankful I am for our family and the love we share. How grateful I am for each of you.
Happy Thanksgiving dear ones!
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