The Night Before Thanksgiving
Ah yeah. Baking pumpkin pie. Jessica helped, good thing too. I had her mix up the second batch and she noticed it looked thinner than the first pie. Forgot the milk. We saved it so no worries. Could have been bad though. It's almost midnight. The first pie is almost finished.
The Bob part of me is up north digging for oil. He should be home for the next holiday. I'm sipping a little chardonnay. Mmm. Can't wait for tomorrow.
This is my favorite holiday. Turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy, gravy, more gravy, something green perhaps and wine and PIE! Oh yeah, and lemon bars and chocolate layer cake that my daughter made. Going to have a few relatives over tomorrow. My brother, our four kids, Bob's sister and her new squeeze (ha! going to do the interrogation thing, make sure he checks out). Tried to get my dad to come out, but he would rather shoot cute little animals with antlers. Hunting season doesn't make sense to me. Shouldn't it be right before Thanksgiving so that the man of the house can provide the brood with a fresh kill of sorts? Seems silly to go buy the turkey when a burley guy can go out and shoot one, clean it, wax and boil the feathers off so the wife can cook it. But no, they go shoot deer ON Thanksgiving so that they can eat sausage all year long. No, that's not why. So they can see who can get the biggest rack. Maybe. It's all so confusing for a women. I guess they do it because they don't need to do it anymore. Testosterone? Yeah, that's it.
Beringer Founders' Estate Chardonnay 2001. $10 bucks (not the kind my dad is hunting) Very good. Dry, rich, velvety, fruity, crisp and oaky. Too good.
Happy Thanksgiving. Don't eat too much.
The Bob part of me is up north digging for oil. He should be home for the next holiday. I'm sipping a little chardonnay. Mmm. Can't wait for tomorrow.
This is my favorite holiday. Turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy, gravy, more gravy, something green perhaps and wine and PIE! Oh yeah, and lemon bars and chocolate layer cake that my daughter made. Going to have a few relatives over tomorrow. My brother, our four kids, Bob's sister and her new squeeze (ha! going to do the interrogation thing, make sure he checks out). Tried to get my dad to come out, but he would rather shoot cute little animals with antlers. Hunting season doesn't make sense to me. Shouldn't it be right before Thanksgiving so that the man of the house can provide the brood with a fresh kill of sorts? Seems silly to go buy the turkey when a burley guy can go out and shoot one, clean it, wax and boil the feathers off so the wife can cook it. But no, they go shoot deer ON Thanksgiving so that they can eat sausage all year long. No, that's not why. So they can see who can get the biggest rack. Maybe. It's all so confusing for a women. I guess they do it because they don't need to do it anymore. Testosterone? Yeah, that's it.
Beringer Founders' Estate Chardonnay 2001. $10 bucks (not the kind my dad is hunting) Very good. Dry, rich, velvety, fruity, crisp and oaky. Too good.
Happy Thanksgiving. Don't eat too much.
posted by Kim Masitti @ 11:44 PM
1 Comments:
At Thursday, November 30, 2006 9:41:00 PM,
J-Dingo said…
J-Dog wouldn't know about that, he hunts birds at a country club that has a cool service; the hunter exchanges freshly shot birds for plucked, eviserated and frozen ones, wrapped in butcher's paper. No hot wax for J-Dog!
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