Grandma

She reached down into a cabinet in the kitchen and grabbed the big yellow ware mixing bowl with her strong, chubby hands. Standing upright, she set it down with a thump on the cutting board table in the middle of the kitchen. A pot was steaming on the stove filling the air with aromas of turkey gizzards. But the giant creamy white turkey lay on the counter, ready for filling. Into the smooth pottery bowl she heaved in a bowlful of white bread  cubes. To that she added melted butter, salt, pepper, and some concoction of herbs. She mixed it all around with her arms that jiggled as she thrust around. This, too began to give off a wonderful aroma. She kindly turned to me and invited me to have a taste. She put a mixing spoon in and scooped up just a mouthful and held it out to me. I took in the now moist, mottled bread and yes, it tasted wonderfully buttery and seasoned, awakening my appetite for this wonderful feast that was about to begin.