Sybil Bruncheon's MORE THAN THEY SEEM STORIES... “Thanksgiving For Two!"...

For a change, Ginny decided to make an intimate little Thanksgiving dinner for just Herbie and herself.. No in-laws smirking or sniping and adding their two cents about the stuffing, the pies, the cranberry sauce. Ginny was exhausted by Herbie’s entire family; not just his idiot-parents, but all the cousins, aunts, uncles, and hanger-on friends that trailed along for every Holiday, every barbecue, every vacation… and then, that one Thanksgiving, she realized she was just as tired of Herbie. So she began putting a little extra “pepper” from the “special” pepper-mill on his dishes… and by Christmas, well... everything was solved. And Herbie ended up so very much like the poor little corn plant that Ginny kept by her hutch in the kitchen…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "30 DAYS OF THANKSGIVING!"... Hello? May I help you?…

... Hello? May I help you?…

.. yes, Ma'am, Savory Stuff 'n' Stuffings! I'll connect you!

...no sir, you'll want Cranberries and Cran-Derivatives, I'll connect you!

Hello Miss, yes, we DO serve vegan-nudists, Oblong-Vegetables-As-Entrees, I'll connect you!...

Hello, Sir... yes, we do have a Yammering-About-Yams Shop, I'll connect you!...

Yes, ma'am? Ah, yes you'll want Scented-Candles-And-Their-Other-Uses, I'll connect youuuuu...

What is it, sir? Yes, we have a Perky-Pilgrim-Costume-Department, and yes, with the entire alphabet in scarlet felt! Oh, yes! Several different fonts! Check with the printing department, I'll connect you!

Hello, ma'am, yes! We have a complete line of stocks; chicken, beef, and...OH! THAT kind of stocks! Yes, AND handcuffs, you'll want to speak to our Housewares and Founding-Fathers-Hobby-Crafts manager, Mr. Standish! ..what?... Oh, I'm SURE they have dunking stools! I'll connect youuuuuu...

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Our Thanksgiving Heritage"... A PRAYER FROM REVEREND SIMPLICITY CARFEATHERS (1620)…

Oh, Merciful Lamb, please let us, on this first Thanksgiving, be grateful for our yam and twig casserole...especially since Thou hath granted us a festive little garnish of pine needles which we will apportion to each and every one of Thine worshipful diners in a portion not greater than one and one half needle-ettes per soul. Also, remindeth us to be glad of heart at the sight of the turnip, radish, and skittle-beetle soufflé which our Indian brethren have prepared with loving and unwashéd hands and left at the back-flap of our tent sometime in the last three days.... And in a hollowed out birch-bark serving dish which we have been told we may keep as a "house-warming" present! We did indeed warm our home by burning it in a hole in the middle of the room. And thank You blesséd Soul of Peace for helping us to extinguish the flames which spreadeth to the canvas by smiting it with sticks as if it were the accurséd hind-quarters of Satan himself (which it very well may have been since Goody Dalrymple says that she smelled infernal farting and saw in the rising smoke the face of a goat with three horns that recited French limericks!). Anyway...we put out the fire, and now have a nice view of the stars at night!

Finally, oh Patient Saviour, we thank Thee for the sight at least of a plump turkey which we would have prepared for our holiday repast had it not pecked out the left eye of Reverend Punctuality Throckmorton during his interminable sermon on "Edibles And Their Free-Will To Embrace Low-Calorie Salvation...OR NOT!"...it was during the declamation and response section of his endless exhortation to "dessert sinlessly" that the turkey lunged at the blesséd Reverend and un-eyed him as it scaped our lean-to prayer-hut! The entire congregation tried to bolster the Pastor's challenged morale by gathering feathers, oak leaves, river mud, and hair-combings to fashion a graven image of a turkey for him to kick and dismember to purge his righteous anger!!

Oh, Serene Guide of our Spirits!... The Reverend in his humble radiance, forgave the facsimile for its transgression against his extremely modest face, and said that one eye still allowed him to see the wonders of our new home here in the new world and would keep him from stubbing his bunion on that damnable tree-stump near the entryway to our settlement as he has done thrice-times this very week when arising in the middle of the night to make his water away from prying eyes and pointing fingers. The mud-and-rubbish turkey now sits in pride-of-place on said tree-stump as a decoration for our feast!! ...and much thanks hath been yowled up to the Heavens along with songs and gourd rattling! We all plan to take our once-yearly bath after the cranberry-cricket flan.... Halleluiah!!!! Halleluiah!!!! OHHHH...HALLELUUUU-IAH!!!!

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