[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments on Cleora's piece

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

I think this is a good description of one kind ofthanksgiving. 



Did you like Thanksgiving when you were a child,or was it always dreary. 



As an introvert, I never was enthralled by eatingfestivals. 



But the food was sure good. 



I never had to do any work, so it wasn’t toobad.  



But hustle and bustle certainly was true for mymother and aunts.   




 


Still, the second description does sound a littlelonely.  



Would you want to go back to the way it was, or doyou prefer Thanksgiving  the way youexperience it today?



It seems to me that there is a conflict aboutbeing alone  and having company.




 


The companyt part is assuaged by the bird  and birds.




 



 



 


Thanksgiving. Atime to reflect and be thankful. Right?



by: C. S. Boyd




 


Hustle and bustlefor days Pealing, baking, stirring, planning. 



For what?



Two smallfamilies gathered together.



The adults at thebig table.



The childrensitting on wooden apple carts pulled up to rickety card tables.



After everyone isuncomfortably stuff, someone pulls out the board game Clue.



The other playershaving played it so often, they have all the solutions memorized.



You don’t need ‘they’ in this line




 


I neverunderstood that game. How ridiculous.



Finally, time togo home. Sweet, blessed, quiet home.




 


Great description of the way you felt about theoccasion back when. 



Did you like any of it?  



By the way, you never mentioned turkey. 




 


Sixty  yearslater



Beep, beep, beep,beep, beep. The microwave signals the Turkey & Vegetable entree is ready toeat.



I dump thevegetables and meat in a bowl.



Two pads ofbutter on top and a slice of onion and two grape tomatoes chopped and added tothe pile.



Sprinklegenerously with salt.



Stir thoroughly. 



Ready to eat.




 


Chirp, chirp.



Sounds plaintiveand lonely. I eat my concoction and then, going to the bathroom door, I lookin.



Chirp, Chirp.



"You want tojoin me?"



Chirp.



I offer my hand.Dusty steps aboard. I grab his dish of food, and together we settle down towatch whatever Thanksgiving marathon program is playing.



I take it that Dusty is a bird. He isn’t a duck orhe would go quack, quak, quack. So I ask you, what kind of a bird do you keepalone in the bathroom? Why the bathroom?




 


A signal from theiPhone announces a nieces Happy Thanksgiving wish.



At least someoneremembered me.




 


Actually, it'snot that bad.



No pretense toknow what's going on.



No fake enjoymentof eating too much.



Just quiet,peaceful, home.



Maybe I'll go outin a few minutes and feed the ducks that are probably waiting at my back gate.



Make sure you don’t eat one. That would be abetrayal of  trust. ____________________________________________


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