Thread by @OnKBHR

Good Morning, Cicely!
It’s getting to be that day here, folks, when the Grim Reaper meets Myles Standish and death’s head pumpkins abound. Thread. #northernexposure #chrisinthemorning #thanksgiving

Yes, Cicely we’re fast approaching the 4th Thursday of November – that day Ms. Sarah J. Hale promoted into the hallowed halls of holiday-hood....Thanksgiving.

Word of caution to all us white folks out there - the tomatoes are starting to fly.

WHOA – Mike just got nailed right outside the KBHR studio!

We’ve got good news from our meteorologic friends over at the US weather service. The official Indian Day-of-the Dead parade and everybody’s favorite follow-up feast will go according as scheduled, barring any surprise appearances by uninvited Old Man Winter.

You know it’s hard not to become reflective in the three months leading up to the Winter solstice. If winter is slumber and spring is birth and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be about reflection...

It’s the time of year when the leaves are down, the harvest is in, the perennials are gone. Mother earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it’s time to reflect on what has come before. It sort of makes me feel……I don’t know….More later, Cicely....

Good morning, Cicely, and happy Thanksgiving. I wanted to pick up on my thoughts of reflection that Thanksgiving always conjures in me, if I might. I've been feeling sad lately - and it finally hit me why when I saw a can of beans in Ruth-Anne's store the other day.

I got a message via some tin cans and dig this – there weren’t even any strings hooking them up. They helped me recall that is was behind bars with almost 400 cons that I enjoyed the best Thanksgiving of my life.

Me & the guys filed in from the yard – those that weren’t in solitary - we lined up outside the dining hall. As we filed thru, we we got to take as big a helping as we wanted cause even in the joint, Warden Viglietta recognized the need for overindulgence on that day of all days.

We had plastic plates just brimming with pressed turkey and sweet potatoes and green beans. After a brief interruption when one of the new guys tried to swipe a clever from the kitchen, Joy King George got up on a chair and recited a passage from Pilgrim’s Progress:

"a man there was, though some did count him mad, the more he cast away the more he had."

And man – we just all dug in...

Joy King’s punk junior 'the Weatherman' broke out a jug of apple jack that he’d been fermenting since the 4th of July – we passed that under the table spiking our cider whenever we were free from watching eyes.

I remember – Dog Hansen actually got a little whacked on the stuff – he stabbed a guy for pitching his yams.

Little Billy Boner tried to get a round of Christmas carols going even though it was a month early.

Man, I miss those guys.

And I'm telling you right now, kids, the mellow sweetness of a pumpkin pie eaten off of a prison spoon is something you will never forget.

Anyway - thanks for letting me reminisce. Here's wishing you a reflective and peaceful Thanksgiving, Cicely. We'll see you over at the Brick following the parade.

Scarlatti: Sonata in C minor, K.11 via @YouTube