Oh, go knit a turkey!

It's hard to believe that three years have passed since I knitted Terrie the Turkey from Susan B. Anderson's wonderful pattern, a free download from Spud and Chloë yarns.  If you compare the photos of my Terrie Turkey--named for a former friend--with the "Tiny Turkey" on the Spud and Chloë page, you'll see that my Terrie is rather overstuffed, or, to use the favored euphemism, "Rubensesque." There are two reasons for this.

Terrie nesting on a bed of lettuce in the greenhouse.

One is that this was the first knitted toy I'd ever made and I went somewhat overboard with the fiberfill. The other is that American poultry breeders favor big-breasted birds. Neighbors of mine in deeply rural Rhode Island raise chickens known as Cornish Crosses. These genetically-engineered blobs are so big-breasted that by six weeks of age they can barely walk because of top-heaviness. (Thus the short, unhappy life of native fowl.) So I guess that Terrie is actually somewhat realistic, insofar as a knitted turkey can be realistic. Also, I didn't knit her feet, which adds to the general impression of instability.

She will, as in past Thanksgivings, be the star of the table's centerpiece.

I'm giving you-all the heads up because there's still time before your feast to make yourself and your loved ones a knitted turkey or even a small flock. You have nothing else to do, right?

Meanwhile, there are a few things I need to get off my chest. In past Novembers, as Thanksgiving approaches, I've gone through a few songs-and-dances about my pet issues at this time of year. The first is Buy Nothing Day, aka Black Friday. I urge all of you knitters and your sisters and your cousins and your aunts to ignore the media-contrived shopping frenzy and turn this into Knit Something Day. If you send me photos of what you're knitting on November 29th, I shall post them on this blog.

I'd also like to remind those of you who live in this area of New England that the annual Buy Nothing Day Winter Coat Exchange takes place, both on the State House lawn in Providence and ancillary sites around the state and in Seekonk, MA.  Click here for addresses. If you have a warm coat to donate, drop it off. And if you need a coat, pick one up. No money is exchanged, only good will and positive energy.

So, gentle knitters, here's the drill: knit a turkey, celebrate Thanksgiving, drop off a coat to celebrate Buy Nothing Day, knit something to celebrate Knit Something Day (November 29th) while relaxing in the serenity of your unshopaholic life, and email me photos of your creations, which I shall post on the blog for general admiration. In advance I thank you ever so much for your contributions, and wish you all a lovely holiday and great leftovers, which as we all know, are the best part of the meal.

It's turkey time

Everywhere I look I see another one.

Outside....

Narragansett Turkey (a heritage breed) #1 of Coggeshall Farm, Bristol, Rhode Island

Naragansett Turkey #2 of Coggeshall Farm, Bristol, Rhode Island

inside...

Bell & Evans, purchased yesterday at Dave's Marketplace, East Greenwich RI

in trees.

Espied today roosting in a greenhoused calamondin tree.

The Knitting Goddess has oft remarked to me that she hates holidays, much preferring ordinary life. I am beginning to understand the wisdom of this view. Why do we futz around for these events, allowing ourselves to be buffeted by the Stürm und Drang of lengthy travel, artificially-induced interpersonal dynamics, gluttony, acid reflux, and the deep boredom of chitchat with people we don't know?

The yin-and-yang of Thanksgiving at my house this year:  everyone invited has canceled at the last minute. This is providential, as the dishwasher--an almost new Bosch--died last week. Thus, all is in balance. (File for future reference in case you're contemplating the purchase of this brand. It's the second Bosch that died within weeks of purchase. The first was replaced gratis by the merchant. Stay tuned for an update after the repair-guy arrives later today.)

We are left with too much food, most of which we'll freeze. Our Thanksgiving will be minimalist, just H & moi, the turkey-craving cats, and the always-ravenous Lola who will repeatedly proffer the paw, roll over, dance unbidden in circus-dog circles, and whimper pathetically while her people serenely enjoy their repast.

Gentle knitters, thank you for reading this blog so loyally. For that I'm truly grateful. I look forward to seeing your photos of what's on the needles on Friday (send them to me!), as we celebrate Knit Something Day (November 25). May your Thanksgiving meal be tasty, and may peace be with you and your yarn.