I made dressing. Lots of dressing. Those of you who make it know how messy the process is. I made deviled eggs. Peeled cucumbers. Trimmed tomatoes.
The Great Hunter, Husband, went to fetch the turkey. Came back with two breasts. Men.
I took my haul to Mother's, to join the rest of the family with what they had prepared so we could have a feeding frenzy.
And I left my kitchen in the mess you can imagine it was in.
You can also imagine without much effort the shape I was in when I came back from the pig trough Mother's. BLECH.
So upon arising this morning, I didn't even want to go near the kitchen for fear of catching a glimpse of the horror that awaited me.
Lawd.
It took me all morning to clean that sucker up. Empty the dishwasher, then refill it. Scrub pans and big bowls and wooden handled things and muffin pans and counter tops and stove. And the sink was a health department nightmare under all that. First I scrubbed with comet, then sprayed it with Clorox.
Husband took off the garbage (well, he tried to, they were closed). At least he got it out of my kitchen.
There's still turkey left.
But ain't that the way it always is?
Daughter was coming home around midnight several months ago. She was on a very dark, curvy country road. I know this because the phone woke me up.
"Mama? I don't know what to do. I've pulled over on the side of the road because when I rounded a curve just a second ago a black cow was standing in the middle of the road. I don't know how I missed it, but I did. I reckon the Good Lord was watchin' after me. But, what do I do now?"
Me: "Call 911."
Daughter: "For a cow?"
Me: "It's very dark. It's on a dangerous curve. Some fool will be goin' fastern you and them and the cow will wake up dead. Call 911."
Daughter: "Okay. But if they think I'm nuts and put me in jail, you can come bail me out."
Click.
Of course, she didn't get locked up, and as far as I know Farmer 911 came and got the cow out of the road.
Also, a few weeks ago as Daughter and I rounded another curve, a red tail hawk happened to be swooping down to catch a mouse in the ditch. He was intent on his journey and didn't see our car as he started back up. He barely missed our windshield by back peddling (or in this case back winging) as we zoomed past him. He had his dinner in his claws.
After girl screams and ewwwwing at the lunch, we had to stop and let our hearts slow down. I mean, he came this close to dining in.
Then a few days ago Daughter and I were coming home and a gigantic turkey decided to fly up and barely missed the windshield.
Do you have any idea how big a turkey hen is when she is right in your face?
BIG
So far, we've no deer jump in front of us off the bank - yet.
Now, why did I go and say that?
