No, my gentle readers. it's not YOUR day. We're having Christmas a week early at my place, so our turkey, named Laura this year, is in the oven. I named her after Laura Moon, the dead wife in American Gods. When I slid her out of the fridge, the cold butter under her skin gave her a white pasty look, and then my final stitches of her chest incision, with thick needle and string, completed the picture. In this case though, I hope she stays dead. The butter, by the way, is PC Black Label Normandy Style Cultured Butter. Well, la-dee-la. I made the potatoes yesterday, and Patty made the stuffing and cranberry sauce, to get those done on the check list. Today it was quick work to set Laura on the counter, stuff her, stitch her, and stick her in the oven. And I saved some of her organs for gravy of course. I'll also do acorn squash, corn, and Pillsbury rolls. Ice cream for dessert.
But this is supposed to be a check in - the penultimate one I believe. I'd thought that last Wednesday was our wrap, so I ended up summarizing and reflecting a bit then. More this Wednesday, from Toronto.