Fresh or frozen, brined or spatchcocked, roasting a turkey with all the trimmings can be a fairly expensive and labor-intensive holiday undertaking. For those who may find them too expensive, there’s help available in various forms. Food pantries, school groups, religious institutions, community-minded businesses, and even the Suffolk County Sheriff’s Office have been distributing turkeys to those in need.
I’m not supposed to say this — visualize me right now muttering “Knock on wood” as I rap smartly on the top of my head — but I am the lucky dame who always wins the raffle: I win things much more frequently than chance says I ought to. If there is a door prize or basket of cheer, I expect to soon be carrying the basket home, strapped with a seatbelt into the front passenger seat beside me, softly chuckling to myself like a thief.
Hard-hitting college football action — a cure for the late-night-Wednesday-in-November blues.
The desert is hardly deserted, at least the one that is rimmed by the San Jacinto mountains in Southern California, where two of our grandchildren, unbridledly joyous 4 and 6-year-old girls, live. Untrammeled joy, however, was not our lot last week inasmuch as an 11-year-old grandson who lives in northwestern Ohio underwent at the same time a severe Covid-caused trial ultimately overcome only by astute medical intervention and his characteristic bravery.
