Turkey books.

[navygreen]

I ran the dishwasher with an over-stuffed, completely full load at 2pm. I ran it again at 10pm. This is the sign of a turkey dinner, is it not?

Yes, I made a full turkey dinner tonight. And no, it's not Thanksgiving yet. I found a turkey for a good price last week, and it sounded good. We had mashed potatoes, gravy, candied yams, green beans and rolls. Oh, and I had sweet tea, of course. I wasn't in the mood to make my own pumpkin pie this afternoon, and the bakery didn't have any. I wasn't up for a frozen pie either, so I just bought a lattice apple pie instead, and I drizzled caramel sauce over warm slices. Yummy! The boys were be-bopping around the house while the turkey roasted, singing, "We're having an early Thanksgiving! Yay, we're having an early Thanksgiving!"

I need to be getting to bed. Tomorrow morning is another meeting of the scrapbook group here at our house, and I always find myself in a flurry, trying to make sure everything is "just so" before the girls arrive. And if I tuck into bed now, I'll get a few more chapters into Deception Point. I started reading it a few days ago, but so far, I've only read a chapter here and there while on the toilet (I'm sorry - was that too much information?). I wonder how much better it is when I'm tucked into bed...?

Comments

[jeffholton.livejournal.com]

I applaud.

If we had full turkey dinners more often than on every fourth Thursday in November, we might all appreciate Thanksgiving as something more than a day to have turkey.

Kudos to you, my friend. Kudos.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

That's true. I never really thought about it that way, but it's true. For the record, I was out of cranberry sauce last night because we eat it all year long as well, and I'd forgotten to get any for this specific meal.

Turkey's not special. The time spent together is.