Grandpa's Thanksgiving Swan Song

....© by D. Grant DeMan

Grandma's Prayer Lord, treasuring the life you made us, The joys of fortune bye and bye. Afore we pray it be ever thus, Thank You Savior for our children, The Apples of our eternal Eye

With World War two winding down our family felt exceptional gratitude around Grandma's old table, its rough plank top camouflaged beneath her rich golden tablecloth. Even now my senses conjure up the sweet aroma of the autumn garden feast that lay in great steaming ancient tureens, our eyes bugging out at the mountain of a bird, crispy and deep - for Grandma always used brown sugar glaze on her meats - garnished with red apple-halves and canned spring cherries.

My mind went back to our summer when Cousin Walter and I swam there in Portage Inlet just back of the orchard. A great battle-wagon flotilla of swans cruised those dangerous waters of our noisy intrusion, unmercifully pecking at my sister Margaret, though ironically, it was her idea to feed them kitchen scraps. No good deed goes unpunished it seems. Even then. Mostly, Walter and I laughed at the situation, but avoided direct combat at all costs, thus surrendering gallantry to prudence.

It was there among those avaricious birds we dug clams, which Grandma fried up for supper, though Grandpa cautioned, "Don't tell your folks you ate shellfish in August, or they'll nail our hides to the barn door." He had been a rancher and was not gladdened by forced retirement among the genteel of Victoria, though I'm told he became conciliated near the end. He took no pleasure in the fancies of life, shunned fine garments, loathed shirkers, layabouts, and drunks. "Those fuzzy little people with their fuzzy little pets! Folks and animals should have some use, or what's their earthly good? Like them cursed swans out there in the chuck. Gorgeous plumage, but all show. Somebody's going to lose an eye one day."

Grandma had made him lock up his Colt forty-five, but late in the evening we'd see him take it out of the closet, shuck out the big cartridges one by one, work the hammer, shine up the parts and carefully replace it in its weathered cowhide holster.

Now he brought down the antler-handled carving knife upon that beautiful Thanksgiving foul with lusty vigor and panache, slicing up, slicing down, and placing the great plate-sized slabs among the pile of vegetables, stuffing and cranberries on each plate. Grandma exclaimed: "Amen - the Lord is good!" and we all dived into our repast.

"The war'll be over soon and we can eat like this whenever we want," Daddy said.

"You betcha. The boys will come home. We'll be happy again. No blackout curtains or rationing. New tires for the car, drive every which way we please. Sunday's, out to Dad's for soft ice cream."

"I can have a new bike?" Marg became excited.

"I get one first." I countered. "And a brand new cap pistol and a Red Rider Daisy rifle."

"An oil stove? Maybe even one of those gas or electric ranges?"

"A Frigidaire even. Like rich and famous folks. And hot water, from a tank for baths."

"Not to break up the daydreams, folks, but does anybody care for a neck?" Grandpa held up the great boa constrictor of an esophagus doing a fine imitation of a fireman with a hose gone wild.

"That wouldn't be my choice." Said Daddy.

"Thank you, no." Momma was very polite.

In fact no one wished to tackle that mighty appendage. "Goes in the soup, Grandma." He said laying it back on the platter.

"That bird has a mighty long neck." Observed Daddy.

"Some geese have necks longer than usual." Mom remarked.

"I thought it was a duck." I said.

"Turkey?" Marg whispered.

"We'll not have controversy over the origins of this here animal. It's right juicy and lip-smackin'?"

"You bet!" We echoed.

"And when you kids go swimming next summer, you'll have one less bird a-pickin' at you. My old Colt Peacemaker took care of the situation in more ways than one."

As I say, Grandpa was a practical man. Everything under God's blue heaven had to have a use. Soon after he passed on to round up that ghost herd in the sky, but we're mighty grateful he got to use his Peacemaker one more time.

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