Talkin' Turkey

Sitting in the living room last night, I kept thinking I heard "a noise".  I do this frequently and, of course, Dave can never hear what I'm hearing.  I think it's a mom's ear attuned to hearing a sniffling child in the night or a teenager's phone conversation from three rooms away.  I hear the rattle that means the washing machine isn't "quite right" or the low hiss that means the outside faucet is on.  Mom hearing diverts a lot of disasters, but it can also be annoying when you can't find the source of the sound.

Every time I shushed Dave and the dogs so I could hear more clearly, it stopped. I finally had to walk around the house to determine where it was coming from.  I glanced out the narrow window in the front door and this is what I found:

Tom Turkey (or maybe Gretta Gobbler, we weren't properly introduced) was strolling across the yard, not twenty feet from the door.  The picture is poor quality because I had to 1. tell Dave to get to the window, quick 2. scramble for a cell-phone and 3. try to get the shot through that narrow little window before the turkey strolled out of the frame.  The result was a blurry picture with a portion of the door and the reflected flash obscuring parts.  But the enlarged section above at least proves my story.  I tried to step out the door to get a clearer picture but, naturally, I startled him and he made for the pond like it was the day before Thanksgiving.  We could hear Tom and his buddies, probably gathered around the Turkey Bar, listening to the retelling and chortling over his close call.

In my excitement, I texted the kids: "A turkey just walked across the front yard."  Mitch's response was immediate:  "SHOOT IT!".  Amanda's took a few minutes, but was similar: "Did you shoot it?"  We raised such rednecks!  I answered "No, we just took it's picture."  Amanda: "Well, ok, but I don't know how you're going to eat that."  Ya gotta love 'em!