turkey breast on thanksgiving day

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We are getting a lot of enjoyment from our hotel pool. It is the one cool oasis in an otherwise brutally hot spate of weather that is reportedly 91F feeling 111F because of the humidity. Scott is completely off of methadone now and that has been replaced with a 50 mg fentonyl patch worn high up on his shoulder. The patch is a time release system that gives him a continual burst of even pain management. It is replaced every 72 hours. What we decided to do was leave a window of a few hours patch free so Scott can get the pleasure of fully immersing himself in either the cool pool or the warm ocean, which takes more effort as it is a little further away.

On the days the patch is on, Scott wades into the pool up to his waist and frequently wears a heavy towel around his head and neck while he is in the pool. On Thanksgiving morning I was sitting in a chair by the pool watching Scott walk into the water. A heavyset Mongolian senior citizen from Russia in a bright blue bikini was humming some nonsensical tune loudly to herself in the pool in a childlike voice. She was facing my way with her back to Scott and she began bobbing up and down, still humming. I began laughing hard when I saw her large tit pop out of her suit… My only thought being that I knew she was about to turn around to face Scott and he was going to see it and I knew he would do or say something even funnier. My laughing fit continued hysterically as I watched this scene unfold before me, unable to give Scott a verbal heads up as to why I was laughing uncontollably now.

The moment came. The Mongolian humming woman bounced over towards Scott to within four feet and asked him in sign language –she raised her arms up, unknowingly exposing herself more–why he wasn’t exercising like so, arms up, arms down…. Scott shrugged at her looked at me with a big shit eating grin and calmly said, “I guess I’m having turkey breast on Thanksgiving.” I could not stop laughing for several minutes and now Scott was laughing, too. I ‘m so grateful for the humor that Scott shares with me, even now. And for all the wonderful people that have helped us make this journey to Goa. We love you!

That night we went to an Italian restaurant at The Leela Hotel and JB ordered the closest thing to turkey on the menu: duck confit. We hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving, too, with plenty of—dare I say it? — turkey breast!

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