Holiday Cooking

How many of you almost froze your fingers off trying to get the neck and /or giblets out of the dang Christmas turkey? Well, my bird was as thawed as thawed could be. Except for inside, where the stuff was wrapped, in a plain white wrapper, which wouldn’t budge. After thirty minutes of spraying hot water into the cavity, much yanking, a few curse words, and one screwdriver, (non-liquid) I triumphantly jerked the stuff out of the turkey, whom by this time, I’d begun to feel sorry for. As I pulled it’s neck and body organs out from under it’s own ribs, I couldn’t help but think; this bird had been alive, hopefully, not so long ago, and what a sorry way to end it’s life. Undignified, to say the least. (As if I ever say the least!) Then I got to wondering—why can we send a man to the moon, yet, women still have to wrestle with frozen innards on holidays? Do women own any turkey farms? Cause if they did, I believe they’d package the stuff on the outside of the bird, don’t you? I aim to find out! Meanwhile, I’d like you to write to Butterball, and ask them to consider our plight. Ask, how much could it cost, to tuck the package under the outside wrap? We need to solve this problem before next Thanksgiving. I never want to wrestle with a dead, half-frozen turkey long enough to feel sorry for it again!

Happy Thanksgiving!

We had Thanksgiving dinner last night (August 20) and I baked a birthday cake for me, but nobody would sing happy birthday because my birthday was two weeks ago.
Here’s how it happened. I don’t usually do the grocery shopping, but I was at the store to pick up a few things, and as I walked by the frozen aisle, I saw turkey breast on sale.
I don’t know how you shop, but sales definitely influence my purchases.
I started fishing around in the bin and found an 8-pounder.
As soon as the turkey was in my shopping carriage, my mind started racing ahead to stuffing, potatoes, gravy and cranberry sauce.
I started to feel excited, just like it was the real holiday and I thought why not?
Who says you can’t have Thanksgiving anytime you want?
Especially since I have a lot to be grateful for and so does my family.
My husband was flying back from visiting his mom in two days, so I set the turkey in the refrigerator to defrost.
I told him I was cooking him a special dinner and since he can usually read my mind, I told him to guess what it was, but he missed on this one.
When I invited my daughter and her son over for dinner, I told her we were having Thanksgiving dinner and she said, “Okay Mom.”
By the tone of her voice, I know she was wondering if I had taken my Cymbalta this week.
It wasn’t until the turkey breast was defrosted and in the pan that I realized it had legs and wings and it was actually a mini turkey, which turned out to be awesome because I found out at dinner that the only part of the turkey my grandson Jonas eats is the legs and the dark meat!
We forgot to take pictures, rare for me, but my grandson Jonas said grace for us and everything was delicious.
After dinner, I served my Swiss Chocolate cake with Butter Pecan frosting, even though I didn’t get an extra birthday song.
This morning I opened a sweet text from my daughter.
“I ate stuffin in the middle of the night mum, thank u for being u.”
Hey, if you want Thanksgiving dinner in August, cook it.
Plus, it was a great chance to see if I could still cook a big dinner!
Life flies by and tomorrow is not promised.
We’re having Christmas dinner next week.