Talking turkey, eating crow

Building the spiteful lady - I've been eating crow these last few months. Funny thing about it, all never seems right with the world unless I'm feeling either embarrassed or at fault.

The other thing about crow, as a metaphorical meal, is that while less delicious than undercooked turkey, it has fewer side effects.

In my last column I proudly announced the Spiteful Lady would be launched last fall. Well ... it didn't happen.

Although I maintain she could have hit the water as a barebones trapskiff - she was corked, painted and decked by September.

The decision to keep the boat in the shed this winter came after a shortlived bout of common sense hit us like the flu. We've since winterized Ray's shed and the crude extension we added on to accommodate the 26-foot Spiteful Lady.

Inside we have a steel barrel, complete with chimney, unfinished boat, tape deck and a bunch of borrowed tools.

The boat's walls have been planked to conceal its ribs, we've installed a floor and began work on benches and a table up forward. Our next project will be to build the boat's house - which will rise 18 inches above the deck and occupy the front third of the Spiteful Lady. Masts and sails will be installed in the spring after the boat is launched.

So it was that with the boat well on her way to looking respectable and everything seeming hunky-dory, we nearly made off with the only boat builder amongst the three of us.

Mike had received a turkey from his workplace for Christmas. Without a freezer on site at his work, Mike put the turkey in the fridge...and left it there for over a week. Christmas arrived and while the turkey's packaging warned not to leave it unthawed for more than six days, we figured they were just being paranoid.

So we took the turkey to Ray's, threw it in the oven and set to work on the boat. After three and a half hours we were hungry - having only started cooking the turkey at 4 p.m.

We were left with a conundrum - the turkey was likely undercooked, but we were hungry. After a brief huddle, we solved the problem by inviting guests.

Guests who would distribute the turkey consumption and water down any possible illness contained in the bird.

It was the juiciest, most delicious turkey I've had in my life and we all praised Mike's cooking skills before going home.

Ray and one of our guests, however, regurgitated their praise, along with the turkey, later that evening.

(Aaron Beswick is a reporter with the Northern Pen).