I considered it my wifely duty to "do" the turkey... bring it stuffed, roasted and ready to eat. I was young, innocent... cooking ignorant. I'd done lots of "minute cooking"... i.e., boiling frozen peas, hamburgers, Campbell's soup. How was I to know a turkey was more complicated... and this was before Pepperidge Farm stuffing! My first turkey... two pages of THE JOY OF COOKING instruction, hours in the oven... and heavy! Blood, sweat and tears, I aced it!

Wrapped lovingly like a baby... in red checkered napkins in a picnic basket... we were off to visit Tomie!

After a five hour bus trip, we arrived... big shock, the cold! In this picturesque, but drafty house, we placed my offering on a platter on the kitchen table, for all to admire. Cold, that kitchen!! Refrigerator temperature. The bird would be fine there, until dinner time.

We spent the day huddled by the living room fireplace. All of us artists, we exchanged stories, much to tell, Tomie's recent work to view. He painted everything! Greeting cards for income, furnishings out of inspiration... an umbrella stand made from a ceramic drain pipe glorified with his distinctive flower and fauna. And there were many signs that graced the village stores, all in Tomie's hand.

We went out for a bit of sightseeing... after I added layers of clothing to my cold, ravaged body... everything we brought for a long weekend stay: including my husband's undershirts, shirts and sweaters... all of it.  It was cold! Tomie just laughed. The climate and country life suited him.