She's Sherrie

Wild Turkey Meanwhile, back at the dinner table, Steve's stepdad made his rounds with the crescent rolls. When he came to me, I just shook my head no and waved him off, acting like I had food in my mouth.  He told Steve to hand him my plate.  I know my eyes were huge with fear. I grabbed the plate and covered it, and said I just could not eat another roll.  He sat down.  I was eating slowly as I often do, chewing and concentrating on what I was doing.  Before I knew it, I caught a glimpse of something scarlet-colored hitting the table. I looked over, and right between Steve and Gail was a big blob of cranberry sauce.  And then everyone started laughing except me.  I just sat with a stupid but relieved grin on my face.  I didn't get it, they were all laughing, nobody was mad. Steve and Gail were accusing each other of making the mess.  I just sat there.  Waiting.  And then I got the explanation.  Ron, Steve, and Gail were trying to set me up and make me nervous enough to s

Wild Turkey I've been through many Thanksgiving Days in my life, some good, some bad, some funny, some sad.  I know you probably have too.  At the age I am right now, many of the people I shared those times with are no longer here.  All I have left of them are memories, good, bad, or indifferent.  It gives me something to hold onto during the times that I have alone during the holiday season. The earliest time that I was ever really aware of what the day meant was in first grade.  You know the spiel, Plymouth Rock, pilgrims, Indians, back before the time of political correctness, sharing food and being thankful way back before we stole the country from the "red" people and forced them onto reservations.  Yes, in first grade, you only learned the friendly version of history. I remember tracing my hand on a paper plate and making a turkey out of it.  As a class, we made our turkeys and took them home for decorations to be placed proudly on the fridge.  Except mine n