November 23rd, 2007

wombat

the evolution of the turkey

Thanksgiving at Mom's place is a pretty simple deal. None of the major effort involved in prepping and roasting a gigantic runner-up National Symbol, no excessively involved mashing & mixing to produce the ideal mashed potatoes or optimum stuffing. Just a turkey roll in the oven with baked potatoes and sweet potatoes...oh, wait. There aren't any turkey rolls any more, it seems; if you don't want the roaster and think an entire turkey breast is a bit much, your sole option in the freezer case is a box dinner from Swanson or Healthy Choice or some such. When I was sent out to buy all he Thanksgiving groceries, Mom sort of forgot to mention that last year little brother Carlos had to go to the Bolling AFB Commissary, and even there (in a store devoted to the concept that no food desired by the troops, whatever backwoods town or hamlet they come from, shall not be stocked) there was some head-scratching before somebody remembered there was one in the back of the meat freezer. Unfortunately none of the civilian stores I went to in search of the damned thing had one, or even had staff who had any idea what one was. So we made do with a couple of Jennie-O breast tenderloins*, which were tasty although somewhat salty in the opinion of mom & P. In addition to the starches we had green beans, succotash & turnip irradiated to a suitable temperature; for dessert, pumpkin and sweet potato pie. Mmmm.

Amazingly, my blood sugar was better this morning than it had been on any morning this week, which makes me even more convinced that beer must be avoided in the future since while it's tasty and fun, it screws up my blood sugar for a whole week. (Carlos, take note.) I did nothing of importance today, despite previous plans to visit Foxchase and do leasing stuff, mainly because I slept in until noon and then wasted the afternoon burning some mix CDs and reading blogs.

I could go on about some stupid drama involving the ex, who for a fairly intelligent person sometimes fails to comprehend the meaning of simple documents like a divorce decree, but nobody deserves that kind of pain on a long weekend. You're not family any more, gabacha estupida, so quit trying to come on like you are.

*Applewood-smoked and Roast Turkey flavors, in case you're interested.