From friend, colleague and garden expert, Ron Wilson. He shares this every year with his radio listeners and readers to his site. Check out his site for more fun musings on Thanksgiving, plus vintage ads that you’ll find amusing!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

THANKSGIVING FORECAST – Turkeys will thaw in the morning, then warm in the oven to an afternoon high near 190 degrees.  The kitchen will turn hot and humid, and if you bother the cook, be ready for a severe squall or cold shoulder.   During the late afternoon and evening, the cold front of a knife will slice through the turkey, causing an accumulation of one to two inches on plates.  Mashed potatoes will drift across one side while cranberry sauce creates slippery spots on the other.  Please pass the gravy.   A weight watch and indigestion warning will have been issued for the entire area, with increased stuffiness around the beltway.  During the evening, the turkey will diminish and taper off to leftovers, dropping to a low of 34 degrees in the refrigerator.  Looking ahead to Friday and Saturday, high pressure to eat sandwiches will be established.  Flurries of leftovers can be expected both days with a 50 percent chance of scattered soup late in the day.  We expect a warming trend where soup develops.  By early next week, eating pressure will be low as the only wish left will be the bone. 

Thanksgiving Poem

Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn’t sleep.  I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep.  The leftovers beckoned – the dark meat and white.  But I fought the temptation with all of my might.  Tossing and turning with anticipation, the thought of a snack became infatuation.  So I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door, and gazed at the fridge full of goodies galore.  I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, pickles and carrots and beans and tomatoes.  I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, ‘Till all of a sudden I rose off the ground.  I crashed thru the ceiling, floating into the sky with a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie.  But I managed to yell as I soared past the trees, “Happy eating to all – pass the cranberries please!