LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE BIRD

I’m just waiting for the flames to die down so I can clean up the kitchen a little. You are probably all saying the same thing, “Frank cooks?” Yes I do and contrary to the opinions of my children who one time endured an experiment with sweet and sour tuna fish and that one time I fixed corn pancakes I am a very good cook.
Barbara and I are spending Thanksgiving home alone, just the two of us. That has not happened in our entire married life. I think the rest will be good for both of us. We had invited the usual suspects but had to tell them they were on their own after Barbara's surgery. Lots of people have invited us to share the meal with them but we decided it would be better to have a quiet day at home.
The last time I had Thanksgiving without any family was in 1963 in Grenoble France. The French are, for the most part, ungrateful; so Thanksgiving has not spilled into their endless list of national holidays. Turkeys on the other hand are also ungrateful, but available only around Christmas. You can find them in the shop windows, hanging by their feet with head and feathers still attached. They don’t seem to mind the indignity. They hang there with the rabbits, quail, ducks and geese. It’s kind of like a barnyard on a hook but the animals are very quiet.
In 1963, my missionary companion Elder Hollinger from Panaca Nevada and I decided we wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving and get a turkey. We rode our Lambretta motor scooter 20 kilometers out of Grenoble and in a little village called Morrin we found a turkey at a farm house. It cost us 64 francs ($15.00) and weighed 8.5 kilos. The old farm woman put it in a feed sack and I held onto it while Elder Hollinger drove back to town. Unfortunately, someone cut us off and he drove into the ditch. I fell off but managed to hang on to the bird. I must have been some sight. A slightly stupid looking Mormon missionary wearing a suit, white shirt and tie and lying in a ditch with both arms wrapped around a turkey in a dirty feed sack. The turkey survived. Since it was only the 15th of November, we took the bird back to our apartment and tied it up in the bathtub. We fed it until the fateful day and I dispatched it with grace and a flick of the wrist. Dinner that year was mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing, and the toughest turkey I have ever eaten.
This year I am thinking that a couple of KFC two piece meals would be really good. I’ll make my own cranberry sauce.
Thanks for listening, I feel much better.

Keep Off the Roof

My wife Barbara has been suffering from a prolapsed disk in her lumbar spine for the last two months. The pain has been constant and sometimes quite severe. Last Tuesday I took her into the ER at our local hospital and they admitted her and immediately put her on morphine which eased the pain somewhat. Wednesday afternoon she underwent successful surgery to release the pressure from the disk on the nerve root to her left leg. The surgery appears to have successful and she is recovering nicely. Her doctor told her the injury was caused by old age.

A few weeks ago a good friend fell of the roof of his shed and was badly injured. He has spent a few weeks in a rehab center and I understand he has now returned home.
Today I found out that our former Stake President fell off a ladder yesterday while trying to clean his roof and suffered a concussion, two broken ribs, and a torn lung. In addition I find that another friend was just released from the hospital because of another medical problem. All are about the same age.

I have decided that sometimes bad news just needs another vehicle of delivery.Let me give you an example

Larry, a single guy with a cat, asked his friend Bob to watch his house and the cat for a few weeks while he was out of town. Bob said he would be glad to do so and Larry told him he would call every week to see how thing were going.
Larry called at the end of the first week and asked “How is everything?” Bob said, “Fine except your cat died.” Larry was terribly distraught but pulled himself together and said, Bob, you don’t just tell someone their cat died like that. It’s too brutal. You should say that the cat fell off the roof and it’s not doing well. You should have me call back and each day say that the cat is worse and then after a few days you can tell me that the cat died. That way it will soften the blow.” Bob said, “I understand, I guess I could have been a little more tactful. “Great” said Larry “I will call you next week.”

The next week Larry called again and asked “How is everything?” Bob answered; ”Fine except your mother fell off the roof.”

Thanks for listening, I feel much better. (And so does Barbara)