You hear an awful lot of people (a.k.a Humbugs) moaning about turkey in December - everyone has to eat it, there's always too much of it left over and why don't we eat goose instead etc etc blah blah blah.
Well shoot me, but I love turkey. Not only is it an annual treat and component of the ultimate boxing day hangover sandwich, but essentially it is the only time you can legitimately eat jelly (albeit cranberry) without appearing unsophisticated.
Collecting the turkey on Christmas Eve morning is my favourite of all our festive traditions. We drive to the Kelly's farm in Essex, drink mulled wine and eat mince pies and generally feel jolly. It slipped my mind in all the yuletide excitement that I documented the outing for prosperity.
Cindy and Alan, armed with receipt and festive cheer.
The queue of turkey lovers on the way to the farm. Obligatory Christmas songs were played.
Nearly there!! Excitment reaches fever pitch as the 'bred to be wild' sign comes into view.
No, your eyes aren't deceiving you - that really is me with Mr Kelly, King of Turkeys, Breeder Extraordinaire. Without doubt my best celeb spot yet. Check out our matching Christmas grins.
The Kelly Bronze. Home safe and sound.
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