Greetings Thanksgiving Survivors! Is the big meal fog lifting yet? We actually had one of the best thanksgivings to date. Small crowd this year, 10 people , family and friends-- two were from other countries (Great Britain and Germany) who have never experienced an American Thanksgiving!
The prep work was quite gentle, because we started a day earlier than usual, and I'm sure having outsider company kept us in good spirits. Although, I did think there was a conspiracy around the jello mold, which I made to honor my mother. I accused Peter of getting rid of my Tupperware mold, which he has attempted to do, several times, and I have found it in a "to go" box and secretly fished it out.
Okay, so I'm up at predawn, getting my pies made before tackling the rest of the meal, which is a lot of peeling, slicing, dicing, twirling-- all the while listening to Adult Alternative music. Spent over 25 minutes trying to find the Jello mold. No where. So using my lost memory strategy, I thought I would carry on and while doing something else it will turn up-- just like my a ha! now I remember, it was tra-la-la. So in the not hunting, I let it leak in my nicest voice that I was suspicious about the Jello mold's whereabouts. Peter found the Jello mold after an hour of searching hi and low . . .This discovery, mind you, comes after I put in it my mom's tin mold which is really hard to unmold . . . So everything is going well. We're actually remembering everything that needs to be set on the serving table. And, then come the the task of releasing the Jello. I stopped up the sink with hot water, and Peter comes by and releases the water, while I'm getting the mold out of the fridge. Mold in hand, I go over to the sink and see that the sink is
reassembled with its rack and stuff-- no longer full of hot water, just 30 seconds earlier. We're fast around here-- all those early years of working in Food-- I'm sure it's a valuable skill set, but I digress. I literally popped my eyes out of my head, and spoke in my gruff sailor's voice, Where's my hot water!!!! In his efficiency, he did something to the stopper and I couldn't get it to work properly-- I was fit to be tied. This wasn't suppose to happen like this. Needless to say, he did it, but left it in the hot bath for a full minute and it melted to soup stage. He said, what do you think, should I flip it onto the plate, and I said, No, put it back in the fridge. It needs to reset.
We didn't have the Jello, which was okay. And Peter moaned, You can't hold this against me for a whole year, and I promised I wouldn't. The rest of dinner was one of our best ever. Oh yea, and Sarah, friend from England, kept saying, Should I be hearing this? in her lovely British accent. And I said, Well you've been here for more than three days, so "you're company" has worn off. Next time, she said, I'll make sure to come in at the last minute and just have the delicious dinner. Too funny. But there is a lesson here, and it's about spite.
If the Jello saga wasn't enough, there yet another behind the scenes story.
I like to work to music, Peter switched the station to the Blues because The Alternative Rock was starting to get to him. Unfortunately, after a half hour, listening to the Blues does me in. So I said, Can we change this to something else? I'm getting uptight. He agreed and we decided on Soundscape, which was playing this eerie flute music,which sounded like a Bad Lands track. While listening, I said this sounds like Native American Revenge Music. It sounded like a curse on Thanksgiving, and doesn't Peter cut his finger while prepping the veggie tray and didn't I break a shaker of salt. Quick, change the station-- straight to Classical. Things settled down after that. It was very weird.
Then company came and we were ready. Ready as we'll ever be.
Today, I'm planning on doing some work. I literally have a bag full of student papers. The end of the semester always moves like a train with a full head of steam-- unforgiving. So my plan is to chip away at this for the next three days. Viola! work done.