Olympic Peninsula Thanksgiving

Lord Mother, at her secure location somewhere in the Olympic Mountains, roasted a dearly departed turkey with all the fixings yesterday while we traveled through a traffic guantlet to intercept it. The completion was made, the tryptophans, mixed with cranberries, squash, and stuffing, hit right on schedule. We all were thankful.

Today I breakfasted on leftovers and, later, can look forward to freshly smoked trout. Lord Running Boy will be taken to a suitable river to blow off some steam, throwing as many rocks as he can find, and then we will learn about oysters. He will surely pronounce judgement upon them as "vewy icky."