On the fourth week before Christmas, my true love gave to me—a gaggle of turkeys. No, he didn’t smoke multiple birds for Thanksgiving dinner. He stopped the car while a flock of hens crossed our driveway. Twenty-two fine feathered ladies hurried down the lake path like Black Friday shoppers dashing for bargains. Based on size, they hatched this spring. Based on number, I doubt they’re all sisters, as the average wild turkey brood is under ten chicks. Old-timers might call the group a rafter, referring to domesticated turkeys roosting in barns. Around our house they perch in trees and make considerable racket. Down here in the south we affectionately call noisy female gatherings a hen party . . . and now you know why.
What are your favorite Thanksgiving foods?
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