… because as the constant readers here know, there are few things that make me happier than a good laugh.
Personally, I plan to be enjoying a turkey with all the extras at my parents house this year. And yes, I am quite thankful that they are both alive and well … at 86/87 years of age.
Don’t worry Mom and Dad … nobody reads this blog anyway … they won’t know how old you are … she says hoping nobody writes a comment.
So the truth of the matter is that I am actually writing this the day before Thanksgiving. But I have no doubt that visiting and turkey-ing will provide a Happy Holly Project item for the day.
And yes, the turkey above does indeed have a skull and crossbones on it. You may recall that I have a friend from High School who is a Pirate … no, really.
Here is the picture he has on his Facebook page for the holiday.
The real kind, not the human kind.
And I am thinking they are not the only turkeys who would rather not be dinner this year.
Fortunately for us, not all turkeys are sought after by blind farmers.
As close as I can tell there is one already in my parents refrigerator … stuffed and ready to go … and all the associated stuffing (bread), cranberry sauce (jellied) and potatoes (mashed) … oh … and the gravy … don’t forget the gravy.
I recall many years ago, when I was a child, my parents were boiling the giblets, et al, to serve as a base for the gravy. When they were done they insisted I try a little piece of the heart … and the giblets.
As a responsible small child i did what any small child might do … I gagged and ran.
My parents were much faster in those days, though … and caught me … and forced me to taste the tender morsels … hey … it wasn’t so bad after all … kind of tasty actually. And I have been a fan ever since.
And there are so many ways to tell.
For whatever reason, the ones that have a pop-up timer never seemed to work correctly in my parents house.
Either they popped and they shouldn’t have, or the temperature was far above done and it hadn’t popped yet.
So the rule of thumb has been …. check the thermometer … then let it sit a little longer. This seems to provide plenty of meat on the outside for us all to eat, while not overcooking down to the bone … thus allowing it to be cooked more the day after … and the day after.
I may have mentioned that my parents and I are now on opposite sides of the political spectrum.
Actually, they think my brain has been sucked out of my head by visiting aliens to the area in which I am living now.
So I am happy to report that things went pretty well for my home team this year, and I am nothing if not gracious in victory.
I am grateful this year that I have enough money to fill up my tank with gas in order to make the trip.
I am grateful for the fact that so many service men and women will be home for good this year … and not just for the holidays.
I am grateful that I have a handsome charming young grandson that I get to see. And whose mother is a remarkable young woman. But then, of course, I am a little bit prejudiced.
Okay … in full disclosure, this paragraph is being added in today … on Thanksgiving. On the way in to my parents, I had on the radio … playing “Splendid Table” on NPR. Like I did last year. Never dreaming …
So this year I am grateful that the folks at the NPR station have seen fit to let me play with all the bells and whistles … and took the time to train me. Or as my mother just said “Is that one of those Face For Radio things?”
Funny, Mom … very funny.
Shopping Season and Hunting Season.
In my heart of hearts I really don’t think I will be
fighting … partaking in the annual Black Friday tradition.
More likely I will be driving back to my humble abode trying to avoid any type of post-holiday traffic jam.
But let me leave you with a photo that made me laugh when I saw it. As both someone who had been known to imbibe profoundly from time to time … and someone who was married into a family whose family business involved hunting and fishing equipment … as in the day after Thanksgiving was their busiest day of the year … as in the next day all the men vanished to sight in their rifles … as in Thanksgiving was the last I saw of my ex-husband for almost two weeks.