I don’t really know what happened; one day Otto was all, “I dunno, I guess everyone already has plans” and I despaired while our new dining room set was languishing with only the jigsaw puzzle Chickadee and I are working on to keep it company, and then the next week it was “well, we have one couple coming” and a few days later it was “someone else RSVPed” and then just as I was figuring out seating and starting to bake it became “so-and-so’s plans fell through” and “I just got an email wanting to know if we could have one more?”
So. Ten for Thanksgiving!
Ask and ye shall receive. Or—more accurately, in my case—whine and karma shall commence the smackdown. Why do I always forget that?
Oh, I kid. I’m thrilled to have a houseful, because I have these overpowering maternal instincts that LORD KNOWS my own children aren’t much interested in, and so the chance to feed a pack of people warms the cockles of my bacon-loving heart.
[Digression, but only slightly: Hey, Dad! Feeding people also causes me to channel your mother. “You’re too thin! Eat!” and “I’m hungry, come and eat something.”]
So, the people are coming tomorrow. They are bringing food, some of them, but somehow we are still cooking a WHOLE LOT of food, rather than risk not having enough to eat. Or something.
Otto is in charge of the turkey. That meant that this morning he was consulting brining recipes while I hovered and made “useful” suggestions, because he is perfectly capable of handling the turkey but I am incapable of relinquishing control without being as annoying as possible. That Otto is a lucky, lucky man y’all.
As for me, I’ve promised the children they can help me bake pies this afternoon (and me without my valium, DAMMIT), and I’ve got plans to cook the cranberry sauce and the sweet potatoes and maybe a few other things ahead, today, inbetween doing my regular work and freaking out that the house isn’t clean enough.
Really, my WHOLE FAMILY is lucky to have me. Holidays are SO RELAXING!
Monkey has been happily ensconced on the couch all morning, watching cartoons and waiting patiently for the pancakes Otto promised we’d have for breakfast. Chickadee slept late—which was a blessing, because she has been so tired the last few days that her behavior was not so much “unacceptable” as “justifiable grounds for homicide”—and has since gotten up and shoved her brother down the couch a bit and flapped her arms at Otto declaring “PANCAKES! I WANT THEM! GIVE THEM TO ME!” I’m just guessing, but I think she may be hungry.
Once I finish up some work here and we have our pancakes, Otto will be off on some errands and I will be breaking open the bourbon.
For the sweet potatoes. Sheesh.
There’s an entire cornbread sitting on the counter just BEGGING to be eaten; I made it last night, my first-ever cornbread in cast iron and I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT and become a cast iron convert in the last few months, already, but cornbread batter poured into hot cast iron, THAT is the reason cast iron was invented, yes. So I am sort of jonesing for some cornbread, but that’s destined for stuffing, so I will try to refrain. Or I’ll make some more later today. Heh.
Mmmmmm food. Let’s all express our thankfulness by eating ourselves into comas!
Wow, the first meltdown is already in progress (the pancakes aren’t even done, yet). I can hardly wait for tomorrow. I plan to eat so much that my hearing is impaired. Then the kids can whine all they want. Lalalalala, I can’t hear you. Lalalalala, why yes, I WOULD like some more pie!
Alright, I’m off to do whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing. Here’s hoping you’re having a calm and peaceful day, preferably one that involves brining a turkey. (Mmmmm… turkey.)