I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving and my birthday yesterday. I sure enjoyed it.
I’m going to ramble a bit, a lil nonsense never hurt anyone, right?
So, first of all, my in-laws went to Granny’s and we stayed home. This is all fine and good. I am forced to admit, the problem with not having Thanksgiving with my MIL is that now I hafta wait until our December celebration to eat her stuffing. Also, what I really like is how she usta let me clean out the huge yellow bowl of raw stuffing dregs. I’ve got to figure out when to ‘stop by’ for an ‘impromptu’ visit. I’m wondering if FIL would be willing to secretly telephone me when he’s given the task of tearing up bread…
Sage — Oh MIL’s stuffing, I love you so.
I made Stove Top. Only Sassy and I eat it and we like it
any version of gluten fine. “Mmm, herbed bread,” says Sassy. We all know MIL would tell me how to make the stuffing, but we all know I’d rather she just make it.
Next year, maybe I’ll be all “I want raw stuffing for my birthday!” Y’all don’t even know.
I dunno how many turkeys I’ve cooked. I’ve done turkey in a bag, brined turkey, basting the fuck out of the turkey, turning the turkey breast-down for the last hour, and for several turkeys, I’ve done it True’s overnight way. I’ll be honest, I’ve never messed up the turkey. Every year, it’s delicious and every year it leaves plenty of drippings for gravy.
This did not stop me from having turkey ruination nightmares all week.
This year I did my first dry roasted turkey, and I’m sold. I think this is the way I will do turkey forever. Pat it dry, rub it, shove things up its ass, put it in the oven and leave it the hell alone. So nice low-maintenance turkey.
Now I’ve moved on to having hair color disaster dreams.
No, YOU’RE obvious struggling with reality!
One of my Facebook friends wished me a birthday early, because of time zones, and a bunch of my other Facebook friends freaked out and thought my birthday was the 25th, which it was, in Japan, because time zones, haha, and that was pretty funny.
It didn’t feeeeel like my birthday yesterday. I don’t even feel older. I like to think those new memory foam mats in the kitchen helped with that. And maybe a lil splash of bourbon. Tomorrow might be a good day to write 9000 words about floors.
My birthday cards arrived today, as is the norm.
My mother was all, “That took over a week!” She said Moo’s will probably be late, too. Then we bitched about postal service. When I lived in Georgia (which in case you don’t know, on a map, Georgia is right on top of Florida, because proximity to Florida is directly related to how awful a place can be) I would mail a pile of stuff and inevitably, things arrived to England, Canada, Indiana, and New Mexico before they got to my mother in Florida. I told her today that I believe she lives in a postally challenged environment and she replied, “Well yeah. Our insurance agent didn’t get a computer til 2011, they still dig ditches by hand, annnd they start building footings with batter board! Bunch-o-Cracker hicks. And to think I am one! Lordy me!”
Oh the LOLZ!
I miss my mother.
Dry turkey sammiches taste better at her house.
Someday, not tomorrow, I will write about my USPS Trials & Tribulations. Lawd, that’ll make you say hmm.
Maybe I’ll write posts all day and clog up your Reader or maybe I’ll eat these leftovers and watch Office Space. Hard to say, really. It’s still early, and these jammies are so comfy.
I feel like we should play Mario Kart, too.
Oh. No. Gotta get a tree. But then I’ll totally put these jammies back on. Wait, the trees will still be there tomorrow?
You know what? No! I’m not having an existential crisis and lookin for ways to escape my angst. Now be a dear and make me a cocktail, will ya? It’s already five o’clock in Japan, AmIRight?
How was your Thursday? How are your nerves?