The sound yesterday, on a pre-dinner excursion.
As long as we’ve been married, I’ve prepared Thanksgiving dinner. Historically, we’ve had guests but this year it was just us. Oddly, there was no giblet in this year’s turkey. Usually, my husband rinses the turkey before I stuff and roast it….
As you know, he likes to butt in with unnecessary editorial comments during my telephone conversations. So, when I happened to mention to my sister that the turkey was an anatomic anomaly, without the usual parts, he was only too happy to advise me that those parts are usually tucked in the other end. Well, how would I know that? It’s not my job to bathe the turkey prior to roasting and it would never dawn on me to look there in the first place, it’s an exit not an entrance!
The turkey was done to perfection and the giblet package was removed from the back cavity without any adverse effects. I had two pieces of chocolate cream pie, yes two, I’d have some now except I’m meeting a friend for lunch so we can critique new developments in the ongoing dramas of our respective families. Last night, when I got in between the flannel sheets I thought about how happy and lucky I am. I have a wonderfully funny family, an exasperating husband whom I love more than I can describe, dear friends who offer laughter and support and I’m warm and full on a cold, snowy New England night- nothing is better than this.