I want to be a turkey.

It's been an unbelievably busy week. We launched the autumn issue of Knitch Magazine (hurray for Jenny!) and we're almost ready to send out next week's Spotlight. It's another great one, and you're going to learn a lot about the company we're spotlighting. You'll also have the chance to win a prize package worth over $150 if you enter our skill-testing contest.

While I've been working my tail off to get all these projects completed, my Mom's been busy planting tulip bulbs and photographing her yard. It's very pretty in Caledon Hills in the autumn.

Yesterday she sent me this shot. I'll bet there aren't a lot of people in the world who look out their window and see this sight. She told me that earlier, while she was having her coffee and reading the morning newspaper, the turkeys came right up to her window to demand breakfast.

When I was a teenager, the worst thing you could call a person was a "turkey." Having observed my Mom's gobblers over the past couple of years, I'd say that turkeys have got it made. They sit around all day sunning themselves, and they get fed whenever they're hungry.

Tell me, what animal would you rather be?