Dec. 01, 2014 - 4:51 p.m.

Ghost of Turkey Past

Well, Thanksgiving was...that.

I have to say, considering I had planned, shopped for, and expected more guests on Thanksgiving than DangerHouse could reasonably hold, and considering that every single one of those guests cancelled on Thanksgiving Eve, it wasn't a bad Thanksgiving.

We did have to make some minor modifications to the original itinerary, of course. For instance, instead of drunkenly fucking like mink under the table after dinner, we were free to drunkenly fuck like mink under the table before and after dinner. (It was a little stickier after.) We didn't have to count the silverware after dessert. And we sobbed about the injustice of it all a lot more (and by "we", I mean "I"). But otherwise, it was pretty much what we expected: great food, and too much of it. Not a bad Thanksgiving.

Friday after Thanksgiving dawned sunny and cold, but sunny. Sunny enough to see that the streets had been plowed and were now passable. So, naturally, guests started arriving. Guests who assumed that we would have leftovers. Which they could eat.

Idiots.

But...we did. And they did.

The first guest to arrive knocked on our door around 11am, rousing NewWifey(tm) and me from bed under the table. I grudgingly let him in, but then had to chat the oaf up in my bathrobe while NewWifey(tm) frantically scrambled around in the back rooms troweling off AstroGlide and masking the funk on her breath by gargling the gravy boat. After a few minutes she came out, perfectly composed and dressed, save for the absolutely flat raft of hair on the back of her head that she couldn't tell was matted - and probably glued - together. I didn't tell her.

A few minutes later another freeloader arrived, hat in hand, then a third. Each straggled in with a slightly apologetic look, but also with eyes darting as they talked, trying to spot unguarded morsels on card tables or sideboard.

Eventually it became evident that I was not going to be able to rid myself of any of them until I'd laid out a spread. Now normally I am loathe to serve leftovers to guests, but 1. what the hell kind of guest backs out of an RSVP at the last second then shows up unannounced the next day as if the invite extended that far into the future?, and 2. my leftovers are still better than anything they've eaten made fresh elsewhere. And they know it.

So I laid out the spread again and opened some wine again, but this time for people I wasn't sleeping with (yet). Most of the dishes held up pretty well, and they ate until they were visibly sweating and short of breath. Because I'd cooked enough food to feed the baker's dozen I'd invited, the two or three who showed up the next day still didn't make much of a dent in the pile even after practically using a plumber's helper to get those last mouthfuls in. The cream of roast chestnut soup was drained, as was the asparagus, curried squash, saffron pilaf, and 2 of the 3 ice creams. That left only a mound of turkey, 2/3 of a ham, and 8 sides to put away afterwards. I could still make soup, sandwiches, and various quiches, etc., for my work lunches.

And yes, after they left NewWifey(tm) and I got drunk and rolled around in the crumbs under the table again. Funny how we're so wed to even the silliest of traditions, isn't it?

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Speaking of traditions, this being the first day of December I can no longer sing the
New November Pants song for another year. NewWifey(tm) rejoices.

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In less festive news, Casey the Wonder Corgi is ailing. I really hope he's around long enough to be our Christmas Corgi in the Manger again this year, but...I don't know. 13 and a half is a lot to ask of the breed, and he's lived those 13 and a half pretty hard. Bears, green spikey balls, holiday enemas, drunken make-out sessions. They've all taken their toll. He's starting to drag his back legs, which are showing signs of atrophy. A corgi forum regular told me the breed is prone to DM, which I wasn't familiar with. So I looked it up, and of course the home page features a corgi as the poster child. Not very reassuring. And he's got a pronounced goiter, which would explain his extreme lethargy. I try to be flip about it, but I know if I have to hold him while he gets The Needle, I'm gonna lose it. I almost hope I wake up one morning, open his pen door, and find he's done the kindness for me. I dunno. Either way, the Rainbow Bridge's gain will be my huge loss. I mean, NewWifey(tm)'s great and all. But Casey doesn't have a tail.

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On that cheery note, I wish you good night and good leftovers. Know they won't be as good as mine, but enjoy them anyway. If you can.

Ciao!

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