This that and other stuff
Another feast has come and gone and I am ever thankful for oldest son. It seems that he and I can pull a meal together with little fuss or high drama, as if we share a brain. Our kitchen is very small but we move about as if our movements are choreagraphed. ANd, as always, we are forever thankful that dinner was just us, not to mention a few neighbors dropping in, and not some dreadful slog to someone else's house. I have never understood why Thanksgivings at my sister's house was always fraught with danger and high drama. Dear sweet jesus, the gravy is THIN!! The mushrooms need garlic and where are the rolls. Oh dear mother of god! When really what needed praying over was the turkey cooked in a paper bag. ????!!!!!!!!
For some reason my mother and sister thought the only way to cook a turkey was in a paper grocery bag. Even worse, my sister was convinced that when the turkey was brown, it was done and ignore that little button there, that's only for decoration and it doesn't tell you that the turkey is done because the turkey is brown and when it is brown it's done, just ignore the red juice running out of it and the pink meat..... the skin is brown and SO THE TURKEY IS DONE!! But, my god, the gracy, the rolls, the humanity.
It just wasn't bloody turkey meat the year we called it the thanksgiving of the salad since I wouldn't allow my men to eat bloody turkey and my sister refused to let me nuke it. So we had the salad I brought, lumpy potatoes my mother was so proud of because they were real, and our tablespoon of gravy because, well, we were lucky to even HAVE gravy, thin as if was. The best part of those meals was the high drama. My sister and her husband always yelled at each other and then at their sons to come in and eat, while my mother plopped those semi mashed potatoes on my husband's plate announcing for the 10th time that they were real and not out of a package with a stinky fish eye to me because... shudder.... I make mashed potatoes out of a package because I couldn't decently mash a potatoe if my life depended on it. So sister and husband would stop shouting at each other while the rest of us raced through the meal before the the shouting would start again and then suddenly it was over and we had to clean up and put everything away. No offer of any other food for the rest of the day and into the night and when we got home we were hungry. I guess that serve dus right for wanting our turkey COOKED!
When oldest son and I do it, there is no shouting, no drama and lots of left overs. And sooner or later one or another of us will bring up the turkey in a bag and the year of the salad.
My sister hasn't spoken to me since my mother died and she didn't call me until the day before the first viewing AFTER sh called all of the relatives first and then told them NOT to tell me. For the longest time, I thought it didn't matter but now I've decided I won't forgive her. Oddly she has me as a friend on her face book and by her posted pics she is the spitting image of our mother. Don't know why I'm surprised. I think she's been channeling my mother all these years pulling the same nonsense my mother always did.
We have both a ham and a turkey and the sons' friends are welcome to drop in anytime and eat. The kid next door started coming over because he has a very big brother that eats them out of house and home and there was little left. Seems the kid next door has plans to go to mortuary school. Doesn't seem to fit his personality but more power to him. This is the same kid with the Little goatling boy AND I now understand that he raised some baby squirrels and they come when he calls them. I also remember the time when the kid was little and somehow got a bucket stuck on his but and he comes crying down the street heading for home with my youngest son close behind, trying to grab him to get the bucket off.
NO black friday shopping for me unless you count the dollar store. They'd have to be giving things away for free for me to be at a store at 3 am. Why even bother going TO sleep? Ok I'll admit I was slightly tempted only to see what kind of people actually GO shopping at 3 am but my bed refused to release me and so I was forced to sleep all night through. Sigh.
So there it is. My inane ramblings.
I wish you all a turkey NOT in the bag. And a very merry non drama christmas.
For some reason my mother and sister thought the only way to cook a turkey was in a paper grocery bag. Even worse, my sister was convinced that when the turkey was brown, it was done and ignore that little button there, that's only for decoration and it doesn't tell you that the turkey is done because the turkey is brown and when it is brown it's done, just ignore the red juice running out of it and the pink meat..... the skin is brown and SO THE TURKEY IS DONE!! But, my god, the gracy, the rolls, the humanity.
It just wasn't bloody turkey meat the year we called it the thanksgiving of the salad since I wouldn't allow my men to eat bloody turkey and my sister refused to let me nuke it. So we had the salad I brought, lumpy potatoes my mother was so proud of because they were real, and our tablespoon of gravy because, well, we were lucky to even HAVE gravy, thin as if was. The best part of those meals was the high drama. My sister and her husband always yelled at each other and then at their sons to come in and eat, while my mother plopped those semi mashed potatoes on my husband's plate announcing for the 10th time that they were real and not out of a package with a stinky fish eye to me because... shudder.... I make mashed potatoes out of a package because I couldn't decently mash a potatoe if my life depended on it. So sister and husband would stop shouting at each other while the rest of us raced through the meal before the the shouting would start again and then suddenly it was over and we had to clean up and put everything away. No offer of any other food for the rest of the day and into the night and when we got home we were hungry. I guess that serve dus right for wanting our turkey COOKED!
When oldest son and I do it, there is no shouting, no drama and lots of left overs. And sooner or later one or another of us will bring up the turkey in a bag and the year of the salad.
My sister hasn't spoken to me since my mother died and she didn't call me until the day before the first viewing AFTER sh called all of the relatives first and then told them NOT to tell me. For the longest time, I thought it didn't matter but now I've decided I won't forgive her. Oddly she has me as a friend on her face book and by her posted pics she is the spitting image of our mother. Don't know why I'm surprised. I think she's been channeling my mother all these years pulling the same nonsense my mother always did.
We have both a ham and a turkey and the sons' friends are welcome to drop in anytime and eat. The kid next door started coming over because he has a very big brother that eats them out of house and home and there was little left. Seems the kid next door has plans to go to mortuary school. Doesn't seem to fit his personality but more power to him. This is the same kid with the Little goatling boy AND I now understand that he raised some baby squirrels and they come when he calls them. I also remember the time when the kid was little and somehow got a bucket stuck on his but and he comes crying down the street heading for home with my youngest son close behind, trying to grab him to get the bucket off.
NO black friday shopping for me unless you count the dollar store. They'd have to be giving things away for free for me to be at a store at 3 am. Why even bother going TO sleep? Ok I'll admit I was slightly tempted only to see what kind of people actually GO shopping at 3 am but my bed refused to release me and so I was forced to sleep all night through. Sigh.
So there it is. My inane ramblings.
I wish you all a turkey NOT in the bag. And a very merry non drama christmas.
posted by ---me--- at Saturday, November 28, 2009
3 comments
