On this Thanksgiving morning, as I got out my mama's turkey platter, I couldn't help but think of all those poor turkeys she decimated over the years. Now, my mama was one of the best cooks I've ever known, but for some reason, turkey just wudn't her thing! I think, at some point in her life, she must have heard some horror story about an underdone gobbler, because she was for sure, bound and determined that any turkey that came out of her oven was gonna be DONE! She'd cook a turkey all night and half the day, and woe be to anyone who hinted that maybe, just maybe she might benefit from the use of a meat thermometer. I remember that glorious, mouth-watering aroma that permeated her tiny house, and the anticipation of that first bite. But the reality was more like jerky than turkey. And the stuffing... well, it'd been in there so long that any moisture that might have been present in the beginning, had long since evaporated. Then came the first Thanksgiving that she finally allowed someone else to cook the turkey. And... she actually assigned the stuffing to me! My uncle Lewis was a man of few words, and not one to spread praise around randomly. But he took one bite of my dressing and promptly announced, "Damned if that ain't the first dressing I've ever had that I could eat!" Mama didn't speak to him again until after Christmas. Have a blessed Thanksgiving everyone!