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Debbie Ridpath Ohi reads, writes and illustrates for young people. Every few weeks, she shares new art, writing and resources; subscribe below. Browse the archives here.

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turkey bowl report

vI forgot to mention, by the way, that it SNOWED at the cottage. We were all bundled up in layers of fleece and wool and mittens and hats at the annual Cottager's Turkey Bowl (where the cottagers from the north end of the lake play touch football with those from the south end). We on the sidelines spend most of the game chatting and sipping hot chocolate or Mike's Hard Lemonade; I often see some of these other cottagers only once or twice a year, sometimes only at the Turkey Bowl. The game used to be more competitive with hotter tempers, but these days the players seem to be more easygoing, possibly because little kids are allowed to play now, and no one wants to accidentally land on one.

The game ended in a tie. Fortunately, there were no injuries this year (last year, someone had to be taken to the hospital with a very badly sprained finger). After more social chat, the cottagers drift apart in family groups, each getting into motorboats and chugging off to various cottagers around the lake, each with a turkey in the oven, just about ready for the dinner table.

Brittany and Olivia helped me gather autumn leaves to decorate the table and the dining room; Garrison helped by drooling quietly in the corner and supervising (from time to time I'd wander over to pick him up for a quick cuddle and to smell his head).

Today's top blatherpic: Case (Jeff's brother), Ginny (Jeff's mom), and Jeff at the Turkey Bowl. Jeff and Case are wearing the team shirts.

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