Well, the turkey came out just fine, despite having been frozen completely solid just fifteen hours before its Date with Destiny (otherwise known as, our oven). The submergence-in-water trick seems to have worked adequately. The breast meat was a slight bit dryer than usual (The Wife certainly knows how to roast a turkey the right way), which we chalk up to the less-than-ideal circumstances under which the bird was thawed. And all of the side dishes were wonderful. Earlier today I made a very small trip for the week's grocery's -- it sure helps the shopping along when one knows there isn't room for much other than this week's gallon of milk in the fridge -- and I picked up a loaf of thick, dark rye bread for sandwiches. I love a nice tall sandwich with lots of fine deli meats and unusual greens on exotic breads as much as the next person, but I also believe that life affords few pleasures so fine as a sandwich consisting of nothing but thick rye bread, lots of mayo, and chunks of turkey ripped right from the bird's carcas. It's just great.
We got some more snow, probably six inches or so where we live, while other parts of the Buffalo region got more (and while the Southern Tier got hammered). For my money, Thanksgiving is the emotional beginning of winter, so I'm fine with snow on the ground -- in fact, I kind of expect it. I certainly do not expect weather like this on Thanksgiving. Oh, those wacky Texans.
And yes, I did a bit of shopping yesterday. We left Little Quinn with his in-home nurse, and then The Daughter and I went out for a while. Target wasn't as mobbed as I thought it would be, except for the checkout counters which were utterly insane. (BTW, folks, I know that the day after Thanksgiving is a big retail day, but this always seems to result in some really odd merchandising decisions in stores, like the way Target had piles of stereos and electronics stuff sitting outside the fitting rooms in the clothing department. I suppose this is to give the guys something to look at while the ladies try on clothes, but it still looked really odd.) After getting The Daughter a new backpack for school, we went for lunch to Quiznos, and from there to Vidlers, the five-and-dime in East Aurora, where I loaded up on obscure candy bars and some new glass ornaments for this year's tree, and where The Daughter added a VW bus to her car collection. From there it was off to Media Play to pick up my copy of A Feast for Crows, and then it was to home.
And nobody got trampled. We're utterly civilized here in Buffalo.
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