Thanksgiving has done come and gone.
It's behind me. Literally, folks - behind me. Get it? Huh? BEHIND? It's a good thing I have stretchy yoga pants that make my behind look good no matter how much pie I eat. Stretchy yoga pants are a must have at the holidays.
As I shared with you last week, we spent the day at the Bonners. Except for some minor glitches it was a wonderfully relaxing day.
Glitches, you ask? Do share! Well, OK, since you've asked so nicely . . . .
Dawn handled the glitches beautifully. Me? I would have started in on the wine and ordered pizza, but I have no class. Also I have very little tolerance for glitches of that magnitude.
Oh, wait, I told you they were minor, didn't I? I lied.
First glitch - the turkey cooked at a temperature 100 degrees hotter than it should have for a couple of hours. And you know what? Minor glitch - it was still FABULOUS. I'm telling you, Dawn has the turkey thing down. Brining is the way to go, baby.
Here's a tangent: I dove into the deep end of the OCD pool and figured out the William Sonoma brine recipe. Why is that OCD? Well, because my method of figuring it out was to empty the jar of brine mix into a big bowl, then pick out and measure all the different parts - salt, garlic, dried apples and onions and lemon peel, star anise, juniper berries and bay leaf and rosemary. Yep, I need an intervention. Why do you ask?
Back to the glitches . . .
Minor glitch #2 -Dawn made a lovely gravy and, using the sink, transferred it from the saucepan to the serving dish. I didn't notice the gravy, sitting innocently in the sink and washed my hands there. Gravy - watered down, soapy and useless. It's a good thing she made double.
Glitch #3 - We missed Noah that day because he was quarantined in his room with the swine flu, totally cut off from friends, family and society in general. His Thanksgiving meal consisted of Tylenol with a little bit of turkey. Poor Noah. Word has it he's better now, though.
And now for glitch #4 which, when I heard of it made me alternate between total fury and helpless laughter. But that's because it didn't happen to me. I'll let Lilly tell you the story. You remember Lilly, don't you? She of the pink toenails who occasionally comes to visit us?
"Hello, I'm Lilly and I'd like to tell you a story. . .
Way back in the good old days, approximately two months ago, I was an only child. A well-behaved, lovely, only child. I don't climb on the furniture, I don't beg for food and I definitely don't "powder my nose" indoors. Indeed not! That would be bad manners.
Then my only-child status changed. The folks brought another dog home (a mistake of galactic proportions if you ask me and yes, I just used the word "galactic". Quit snickering. I play Scrabble too.). Let me introduce you to my new sister, Sophie . . ."
Sophie: "Look at me! I'm Sophie! Blonde Sophie! Sophie-Sophie-Sophie! (pant, pant) I'm happy-happy-happy! (wiggle, wag, wiggle) Pet me! Love me! Give me attention! (sniff, sniff, wag, wag) Is there any food? I'm SOPHIE!"
Lilly: "Sheesh. Do you see what I have to put up with? By the way, you're in serious trouble sister. Have you forgotten the Pumpkin Pie Incident? You're a bimbo bonehead."
Sophie: "What? What's a bonehead? Is that good? What's pumpkin pie? Is it good? I WANT SOME."
Lilly: "You already had some, Blondie. To the tune of two, freshly baked pies that were sitting on the counter. I can't believe I got in trouble for your bad behavior - just because our people couldn't nail down the real culprit, we were both punished. I've been unjustly treated. Whatever happened to due process? I have rights."
Sophie: "That orange stuff on the counter was pumpkin pie? DANG it was good. What's due process?"
Lilly: "Is anybody else hearing this? Excuse me, but am I the only one who can smell her pumpkin pie breath? Life used to be so good . . . "
Sophie: "I'm sleepy. So, sleepy . . . must . . . close . . . eyes. Heavy . . eyes . . . .
. . . succumbing to . . . carb coma . . . . ."