Belated T-day

Turkey is overrated. I'm sure millions would argue differently but to me it's the poster child for term poultry. Don't get me wrong I love turkey's fowl brethren, duck, pigeony squab, cornish game hens, and the ubiquitous chicken but beside it's iconic presentation turkey just doesn't measure up. So what to do on the day of giving-thanks if tradition doesn't suit?

Go to the beach.
Thanks to an announcement on the radio declaring the lifting of the coastal quarantine for mussel hunting I knew what Eddy and I be doing come Thursday. A night of Internet research revealed hunting spots and videos of shellfish collecting techniques (clamming's next). Printed directions in hand we drove through a rainstorm to the coast to gather our bearded friends. We arrived an hour behind the scheduled low tide suited up and relatively waterproofed. Or so we thought...In the end we were entirely drenched sweaters wet, boots filled with the squish of seawater, triumphant with plastered grins and a bucket of shellfish.

As it turns out collecting these buggers can be treacherous work, negotiating slippery rocks and gambling with mondo-giant waves. At one point we stood collecting behind a boulder when a sneaker wave hit and nearly sucked me out to sea. Luckily our boulder shored me up and I managed to hold onto my mussels. Exhilarating.

We returned home welcoming hot showers and dry clothes later to feast on our quarry and we were thankful.