When my 19 year old man/child was in 1st grade, he performed in a Thanksgiving pageant kind of thing, something about Squanto and fry bread, it was confusing. But the finale was a rousing rendition of a song about a turkey named Albuquerque who did not get eaten for Thanksgiving dinner. Naturally, I heard that song in my head ad nauseum during all preparations to visit that fair city last week for a conference.
|Word hard, play hard!|
|a bit odd|
|Pretty, yet odd. In this case the oddness was in the smell. We nicknamed these pretty things 'crotch trees'|
|It was St. Patrick's Day eve!|
I'm glad that Albuquerque the Turkey survived his song, and that I now have newer associations to put with the city. I missed a chance to go to the aerial tramway, which looked spectacular, because I was 3 seconds late for the bus. They are a prompt people, those Albequirkies.
Next year it's back to Hilton Head :)