The Inspector

  Well, Thanksgiving 2018 has come and gone. I hope yours was pleasant. If you were one of the tens of millions of Americans who took to the roads and skies this year, I pray that you made it home safe and that the trip was worth the expense and hassle. I, for one, have no desire to travel more than two or three blocks for a holiday dinner, and for as long as I can remember, haven't gone much more than ten feet; from my easy chair to my spot at the table for a Thanksgiving meal. I do miss having all the kids sitting around the table during the holidays, spilling their milk, hiding the stuffing under their plates and arguing about whose turn it was to do the dishes. Ahh, the good ol' days. This year we only had my oldest daughter Jen for dinner, but we were blessed to have five friends share our meal. I like to have a table full of folks for the holidays. For reasons I can't fathom, Jen finds the word pickle to be rather hilarious, so at the appearance of the relish tray there was a round of laughter and a discussion ensued about different words and their origins. As for pickles, I don't find them all that funny, but I do find them tasty.  I believe it was last year, or perhaps two years ago when I went on a walk to the cannery with a chicken hat on my head. It's a classic. More than a few people honked the horn and waved. Some folks just stared, probably wondering what kind of buffoon would openly waltz around in public looking so ridiculous. This year, someone, I don't know who but I have my suspicions, managed to find a turkey hat. I'm sure some mad hatter in China is laughing all the way to the bank. Oh well. I like Thanksgiving, in part because I really like good food. However, after raising seven children, we can't seem to get the part about cooking less under our belts. I believe we had an eighteen pound turkey this year, which meant we had about fourteen pounds left after the meal.I was really counting on my friend Mark to make more of a dent in the ample supply of food that had been prepared, but I think we were either the third or fourth dinner that he and his girlfriend  attended and at his last dinner, there were nine different pies, which he sampled from.Fortunately they came by the next day and we were able to pawn some of our excess off,  but  I've still had four or five meals of turkey sandwiches, and I believe tomorrow the fare will be the same. We finally managed to wipe out the green bean casserole and the last of the pumpkin pie last night. For breakfast I finished off the final piece of apple pie. Today at lunch the cranberry sauce, jello salad, sweet potatoes, gravy and broccoli salad made their last appearance. Our dog, Rigby checked out the fridge to make sure we weren't hiding any fugitive foods that he would have to take possession of. He was a total nuisance on Thursday, barking and whining and making demands. Jan finally had enough and he was banished to his cage upstairs for the remainder of the meal. He still managed to get more than his fair share of turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy though, so I didn't feel too bad for him. I kept hoping that the tryptophan  in the turkey he managed to wrangle from me would put him to sleep, but I found out later that that is just a myth. However, had I given him more stuffing or yams, it would have helped send him to bed early. Oh well, maybe next year.