Here is my "blogtalk" for November that I performed this weekend at the monthly "Postcards From Whidbey Island" variety show here in Coupeville, USA:

Welcome to November on Whidbey Island. Don’t you love it? So delightfully cold and damp and dark. That unique, squishy sound I hear when I walk across the grass. All those brown leaves I didn’t bother to rake . . . just lying there, taunting me, daring me to get out in rain and do something about them.

Yes, indeed. This is one of those months they don’t talk about in the tourist brochures you pick up on the Mukilteo Ferry. They skip right from Oktoberfest to MusselFest. Nary a word about some of those Fests in between . . . like the All-Whidbey Moss ‘n’ Mold Expo. That’s a big one. Or the Island-wide Rat & Mouse In-Fest. So many of us never miss that one. I’m just glad the eat-local movement doesn’t participate in those.

But we love it here in November, don’t we? It’s that time of year when we ransack the closet to find something, anything to keep our feet warm. When we finally scrape last November’s mud off the waterproof shoes we haven’t worn for months …. you know, the ones you quickly discover aren’t really waterproof when you step into the puddle in the driveway.

It’s time to drag all the sweaters out of the drawer and hope others won’t notice the musty odor when you sit down next to them. And, it’s time to check the propane tank and discover the meter’s been on “zero” since April . . . then make a panicky call to the supplier and hope the truck arrives before they find you frozen in your Snuggie.

Ah yes, November . . . such a great month. We have several wonderful holidays during the month. We just had Veterans’ Day, and we really appreciate our vets here on Whidbey. How many veterans here tonight? Great! Thank you! I’m a veteran, too…..Uncle Sam gave me an all-expenses-paid trip to Vietnam in 1969. Thankfully, it was a roundtrip! Let’s see, Vietnam….I think that was about four wars ago, wasn’t it? I can’t remember . . . there’ve been so many.

Any way, I still feel goose bumps when the Navy guys march down Main Street in Coupeville on Memorial Day and the Fourth of July. And I’m happy to be living someplace where I can attend an Interfaith Peace Vigil one moment and watch a precision military drill team the next. I love this mixed-up, diverse, military-respecting, peace-loving Rock we live on!

Of course, Thanksgiving is coming up next Thursday. A lot of us take the opportunity to fly away to some dryer, warmer place . . . but many of us are descended-upon by mainland folks eager to say they ate a drumstick on an island. As for me, I give thanks for that enzyme in turkey that puts you to sleep. Otherwise I’d have to spend the afternoon listening to our relatives complain about life on the mainland.

We’ll also be dining on the most expensive turkey we’ve every cooked. How expensive, you ask? Well, let me explain. Last spring while I was off-island, my partner Terry went with some friends to the annual Lions Club auction here at the Crockett Barn. Now don’t get me wrong. I know the Lions do a lot of good work, and their auction raises a lot of money every year for scholarships for local students.

But those Lions have been doing this auction for a long time and they know all the tricks to make sure the bidding goes through the roof. It starts with lots of wine before dinner. Then lots of good food. Then lots more wine. And then the auction begins.

When I got home, I discovered we were the winning bidders of a beautiful Narragansett turkey from a local farm. Live or dressed. Free butchering lesson included, if desired . . . it wasn’t.

Not until I googled Narragansett turkey did I discover that it’s a breed that may be descended from the wild New England birds the Pilgrims ate. Which offers me at least some comfort. Considering that Terry, after several glasses of Lions Club wine, had made the winning bid of 200 dollars. Two…..HUNDRED….dollars.

So, stop by our house next Thursday and see Old Tom if you’d like. At that price, we ought to use him as a table lamp or something. But I’m sure we will savor every costly bite of that bird.

There was a third big holiday here on Whidbey this month, although it only comes around every couple of years. This time it was Wednesday November Third. Freedom from Political Signs and Negative Ads Day! Maybe the best holiday of all, don’t you agree? It was such a relief watching people tear down all that wasted cardboard and plywood along our two-lane state highway. And finally getting back to ads for Preparation H and Polident on TV . . . instead of that annoying woman whining that the healthy snacks she makes were being taxed like candy. And imagine my delight when the recorded 800-number call we got on the evening of November Third was actually somebody pitching a credit card . . . and not Sarah Palin pitching Dino Rossi.

Of course, the downside of Freedom from Political Signs and Negative Ads Day is that now we don’t have nearly as much to complain about while kibitzing over a latte. Before November Third, I think every ear on the island was burning from all the scorched talk about politics. You’d have thought that world would end on Election Day. But didn’t. We’re all still here … a little worse for wear, perhaps, but not dead or owned by the Chinese. Yet.

And, if we’re going to argue about the hand basket to hell we’re in, is there a better place to do it than here on this beautiful Rock . . .where not much really changes? Where the tide still turns twice a day . . . and the sun still follows the rain . . . and the trees still grow oh-so tall . . . and Mount Baker still looms majestically over us . . . and in November the leaves still turn a glorious red and yellow before falling to the ground and daring us to do something about them?

We do have a lot to be thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!