Yeah: we went to my dad’s and stepmom’s place yesterday, and today my mom showed up for the traditional “Friday Reprise,” when I usually throw another turkey in the oven so we’ll have it for sandwiches and soup. After all, supermarket turkeys are cheap/free this time of year. Somewhere along the line that “Friday Reprise” turned into a second Thanksgiving on years that we celebrate the actual Day of Gratitude elsewhere.
Naturally, in my bifurcated family that Friday got transmuted into the “Mom Thanksgiving,” if she’s in town and we went to my Dad’s house on The Blessed Day (which we seem to do every other year or so).
It was quite nice, but there’s always a lot of talking, and listening, and trying to pretend that, as a cook, I can do timing worth a good God-damn. (This year? Only a half an hour late, depending on how you score it, thankyouverymuch.)
So the giblet stock is finished—but the main batch of stock, from the turkey carcass, remains undone. If I don’t get to it tonight I’m going to wrap those bones up and throw ’em in the freezer, along with some of the dark meat (which never goes as quickly as the light stuff).
And I am going to watch either an episode of the current V series, or the 1980s original of Red Dawn. Because I crave some quality visual junk food right now. After that, it’s bedtime.
I’m a lucky girl, but when I work . . . I work hard.
You may not hear from me until tomorrow, when I’ll be sending emails and Word files off to Smitty—while drinking the black coffee of the just.
; ?>/images/user.png)
; ?>/images/email.png)
; ?>/images/feed.png)
