- jim Young Thanksgiving chores when I was young, Was a weekend filled with laughter and fun. We’d head to Muskoka to tie off the docks, Then carry the boats up over the rocks. Stored in the shed were motors and oars, Gas cans, lifejackets, paddles and more. Things put away and stored for the year, Memories shared o’er a few pints of beer. The young ones scampered through the woods to play; Or fish from the rocks to help pass the day. Capture the flag, building forts, catching leaves, Hide and seek, or just climbing trees. We’d cut down a tree, sometimes two, maybe more, Cut, split and piled, near the back door. While the men worked hard at growing some blisters, Mom busied herself with the help of my sisters, Preparing stuffed turkey, potatoes and treats. There was always something good to eat. The meal was enjoyed in happy reminisce, With a tear shed in memory of loved ones we missed. Plates were emptied as we sat back with a sigh, Then dessert would be served in the form of a p...