Archive: November 2006

Today, JG and I are heading up to his grandmother’s house for the annual Thanksgiving shindig. It’s the same crew as the 4th of July beach trip and I’m looking forward to seeing everyone. For now, though, I’ve accompanied JG to work for the school’s half day of in-service and it’s odd to be typing this from a geometry classroom.

This year will be my third time to join for Thanksgiving and I think I’m finally acclimated to the whole ritual. When JG and I were engaged, I was the first non-blood-related person to invade the festivities, and I was nervous as all get out. In addition to meeting all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins, I knew that Thanksgiving was (and is) one of JG’s favorite holidays, and I was terrified that I was going to make it less fun somehow. To prepare, JG quizzed me on all of the cousins’ names and gave me the rundown of the traditional events I would encounter:

• The night before Thanksgiving: dinner out with JG’s grandmother
• Thanksgiving Day: watching the parade in the morning, eating The Meal in mid-afternoon, and leftovers for dinner in the evening - with watching football and playing games throughout the day
• Black Friday: shopping for the girls while the guys play golf or watch more football

JG also informed me that I would need to figure out something to say in the “what I’m thankful for” circle. I was all aflutter - What do people normally say? How detailed do I have to be? What are you saying? I quickly stopped practicing the cousins’ names and started brainstorming what I could be thankful for in such a public arena. The pressure!

Needless to say, I survived. Initially, I was taken aback by the sheer energy exuded by the cousins as a collective, but after they jabbed me good-naturedly, I held my own. I even won a few games and earned some street cred with this insanely competitive bunch. The food was great and shopping was lots of fun with a whole band of savvy sale-shoppers. And the “what I’m thankful for” circle? It’s interesting that I vividly remember being so freaked out about it, but I can’t recall what I said as I stood there shaking. I’m sure that I stuttered as the words tumbled out of my mouth. Apparently, it was good enough, because no one mocks me about it now.

I’m glad that I don’t have to study for Thanksgiving anymore; one of the younger cousins assured me at the beach, “You’re in.” Well! How about that! I still need to figure out what I’m going to say in that circle, though. I think I’m most thankful for the real family feeling I have now when I’m around JG’s relatives. I’m not sure if that’s too sappy… I’ll have to double check on that…

Anyway, here’s to good food, fun times, and great bargains on Black Friday! Happy Thanksgiving!

On the way home from work last night, the radio DJ announced, “Okay, folks, it’s time for the Drive at Five, and we’re going to kick it off with a Thanksgiving classic – ”

I groaned. I sincerely dislike the Adam Sandler’s “The Thanksgiving Song” and I was sure that it was next. I poised my hand over the scan button.

“ – the Cranberries!”

My mouth dropped open. This was too good to be true.

Oh, my life is changing everyday,
In every possible way…

I cranked up the volume and belted out lyrics that I knew and ones I didn’t. I was grateful for my one-lane road that ensured that no one would hear me take part in that strange lalala bit that everyone kind of does differently and still ends up sounding sort of like an animal in pain, in a good way. I forgot how much I enjoyed this song and the sheer corniness of playing a Cranberries song in the week before Thanksgiving made it that much more awesome. They should totally do this every year.

I took a mental health day on Friday, sort of randomly, but it made me realize how much I needed a break from my routine. I was amazed at how much I enjoyed running errands when my time was entirely my own. The extended weekend rocked, including but not limited to these highlights:

• On Friday, I woke up of my own accord, without the beeping alarm, groaning, and tense muscles that usually mark the workday.
• I checked off my grandmother on my Christmas shopping list: porcini olive oil and a vegetarian cookbook.
• We went to a game night with JG’s teacher friends and discovered the wonder that is Turbo Cranium. I still can’t believe that our team collectively managed to spell macadamia backward.
• It took a lot of cordless screwdriving, but JG successfully hung three different decorative (and functional) elements, while I, ah, supervised: picture ledges over the sofa, a fabulous big clock, and ten coat hooks in the entryway. The house now gives the impression that we could have company and some class!

I have to pack up to go to work tomorrow and I’m realizing – I am not psyched to go in tomorrow. But you know what is almost as fun as a three-day weekend? That would be a two-day week, followed by a five-day weekend with lots of turkey and shopping. Booyah.

Tomorrow is the Thanksgiving pot luck lunch at my office and I’m in charge of the turkey. I don’t pretend to possess any degree of turkey prowess – I’m more of a baker, really – but last year, I managed to cook a turkey breast successfully in my handy dandy crock pot. I offered to make a pumpkin cheesecake this year and let someone else handle the main attraction, but there weren’t any volunteers to take that on, much to no one’s surprise. So I shrugged and added turkey breast to my grocery list this week.

I planned on prepping the whole thing tonight so that I could switch on the crock pot when I got up in the morning. The meat had to cook for 6 hours, so that would work just fine for lunchtime. The recipe I consulted in my Fix It and Forget It cookbook assured me that I didn’t have to thaw out the turkey, so I lugged the stone-like mass out of my freezer and klonked it into the serving dish of my crock pot. However, when I busted through the wrapper, I discovered that there was a blasted gravy packet frozen to the meat. Argh. I grabbed the nearby kitchen shears to chip away at the ice surrounding the gravy packet when I realized that there were three major factors preventing my extraction. The gravy packet was four times larger than I anticipated, its contents were frozen and rigid, and worst of all, due to its curved shape, the frozen-solid turkey breast had a death grip on the stupid thing. As I came to this soggy conclusion, I accidentally punctured the packet with my shears and gravy slush came seeping out.

Lord, what a mess.

I ran the whole thing under the coldest water my faucet could produce in an effort to safely melt the ice surrounding the gravy packet. Unfortunately, this plan didn’t exactly work and rendered me with hands that were frozen stiff and completely numb. I gritted my teeth as I attempted to pry the turkey breast from the gravy – “Come on, you know you want to!” – but to no avail.

JG arrived home to find me practically sobbing into the sink with frozen hands clasped around the rebellious hunk of poultry. Upon quick examination, he said, “I’ll fix it,” and he did! He simply cut open the gravy packet, drained it out, and slipped it out of its prison. Why couldn’t I have thought of that? Maybe because I had crossed the line of logical reasoning when I couldn’t feel my hands and the idea of being beaten into submission by the white meat of a dumb animal was too much for me to handle.

I managed to finish up without a fiasco, thank goodness. It’s one thing to be bamboozled by the meat, but it’s quite another to be outsmarted by onion, celery, and chicken stock. I just hope the turkey turns out well tomorrow.

Edited: November 16
The turkey turned out just fine! It was too bad that I had no idea how to carve the thing and butchered it, but no one knew the difference.