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Thanksgiving- more than just turkey dinner |
gold to get you started |
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Total Votes : 15 |
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2007 5:53 am
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2007 11:49 am
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2007 10:41 pm
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 6:49 am
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 11:40 am
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Bounty
Red Bear crouched low, for just ahead, was a clearing occupied by what had to be the most amazing Buck he had ever seen. Taller than he was, massive antlers that spread out and reached up. He was behind this majestic creature, and down wind. Through a gap in the trees, the now setting sun was framed by this massive beast’s antlers, almost as if they held the source of all light in the world between their gracefully arching points. The buck lowered it’s head, resuming feeding, the moment passing. Red Bear drew an arrow from his quiver, slowly, quietly… He must be patient, or this one opportunity would escape him. He knocked the arrow, and stood slowly, adjusting his stance and making no sound. He steadied himself, and drew in a breath quietly. His eyes fixed on the spot he wished to hit. He drew his bow full, sighting down the arrow. His heart at first beat furiously, but as he steadied his mind, and spirit, so too did his heart and body steady themselves. The aim was made, the shot lined up.
Now, just before the time of his kill, the world seemed to stand still. A leaf, falling from one of the great Oaks, suspended in the air. A mosquito in the arrow’s path, frozen in time. The wind that caressed his cheek, and stirred his hair, stopped, dead in it’s tracks. It was for these moments, these unforgettable days, that he lived. He let the arrow fly. In rapid succession, the mosquito was spashed against the arrowhead, the arrow flew and pierced the creatures hide, muscle, and then neck, sinking through and out the other side, severing the nervous chord, the buck, screamed in pain, and threw it’s hind legs out, trying to run, to escape, but the shot was perfect. It fell nearly were it stood, passing quickly and quietly into it’s eternal slumber. He waited a heart-beat for the beast’s spirit to leave it’s body, and putting his bow over his shoulders, drew his knife. It was half a day’s travel back home, with the added weight of the buck. Immediately after reaching the great beast, he cut into the chest, and removed the first thing to be consumed: the heart. Quickly, he ate the muscle that had given life not more than a minute before.
After he had eaten the Hunter’s portion, he hoisted the carcass onto his shoulders, and stood. It’s weight a familiar burden, though this was the heaviest he’d seen yet. He turned, and made his way back home, to the village, where the others awaited his return for the feast to come.
When he first returned, only the Watchers were still awake. But before long, the entire camp had been roused from their slumber. They all celebrated his triumphant return, and his prize. It was time then, for him to sleep. And so he went to his home, rid himself of moccasins and all else, and lay down to sleep.
When he woke the next morning, the festivities had not yet begun, but all anticipated them. Throughout the day, he was saluted and congratulated by all he saw. He helped where he could, gathering wood for the cooking fire, making decorations and other things. He was happy, but already missed the forest. The thrill of the Hunt. It made him feel more alive and bristling with energy than anything else. But for now, he was home to stay.
At sun down, the festivities started in earnest, and all gathered for the bountiful feast he had helped provide. The meat had been slow-cooked all day, and everyone’s appetites were wet with the savory scent of the meat, and other things that had been prepared for the feast. As always, the Chief ate first, and then the other Warriors and Hunters. He, however, let the women and children eat before him, for he had already eaten the first bite of the meat. Throughout the night, song and dance, laughter and joviality reigned. Stories of the Great Spirits, myths and Legends. Finally, the Peace-Pipe was passed, and by the time the moon was full in the sky as their bellies were full in their bodies, the time had finally come for sleep.
He said to himself before he slept: “For these unforgettable days, for them, I live…”
End
Foot note from the Author: With this story, I wished to convey what I think Thanksgiving truly should be: a celebration of the bountiful lives we live, shared with friends and family, celebrated by sharing joy and life with our peers. For those unforgettable days, for them, I live…
I'll note that this was 2.5 pages in Word.
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Posted: Tue Nov 06, 2007 5:33 am
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Posted: Wed Nov 14, 2007 1:24 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 15, 2007 1:03 am
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Posted: Thu Nov 15, 2007 5:53 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 19, 2007 10:08 pm
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Picture this, and plesently lit room, a table full of delious food, and the air thick with the smells of the feast. Add in 2-4 grandparents, a few parents, a couple of kids, two dogs and a cat. It starts out nice, pleasent, the cooks blushing as thier food is praised. It's mostly quiet. The dogs each have picked a lap to rest thier head as they quietly beg, the cat stalks the table looking for drops or kids that aren't paying attention. Then, someone brings up politics. Here, imagine an atomic bomb cloud. The voice levels rise close to shouting, the occasional person screams in attempt to break the thought of the others, the dogs debate wether to catch the flying food or to run for thier lives, and the cat is suddenly invisable, or teleported away. A few smart people stay quiet, maybe clear the table or sit way to close to the tv. The voices begin to grown hoarse but the end is still not in sight. The food runs out, the arguers have long since stopped waiting for someone to finish talking, or even notice that someone else is. The kids are either getting into trouble or sittting infront of a blasting tv of thanksgiving cartoons. Now the climax, with the voices having been lowered, unable to keep thier earlier volume a voice is shouted from the top, saying how someone is just not getting what they are trying to convy, standing up a bit. The person they yelled at does the same. By now the conversation of some people have shifted to religion, whoever was sitting silently at the table being asked to voice thier opion to voice a point. THe two people standing yell for a few minutes before sitting down, voices now consistantly loud, whereever the kids and cat are hiding pay no notice, the dogs that stayed and the ones that ran are in the kitchen, looking to help scrub up plates. Slowly the cat learns of this and terrified sneaks into the kitchen for thier share. A while later a person stands up, yelling again, and walks off, someone at the table yelling after them before sitting down. The person that left likely going to bother the people in the kitchen or the kids. Slowly the conversation dies and the adults at the table lit a cigar and-or talk about less contraversial topics, perhaps a news story they have the same opinion over but still wish to discuss. Others migrate to the kitchen or to sit at the tv fighting with the kids for the remote and wether they should watch news, football or cartoons.
Fun no? Try adding a few more cats that aren't as tempted to run, and dogs that get pushy if they go ignored for too long. I'm glad that travel issues this year have come up, but even still we miss eachother either way.
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Posted: Wed Nov 21, 2007 5:07 pm
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