And thanks to my buddy Roger for killing the bird this year. I'm not much of a hunter so I leave it up to the camo crew to do the dirty work. I was up at 6am this morning cutting up onions, celery and carrots for the turkey. Never has the smell of onion been so very repugnant. I got my steaming cup of coffee to the right and to the left, an entire cutting board worth of chopped onions. Yikes. It's like getting a wake up call from the Texas Tech Marching Band. And I had to go to Wal Mart (hell) to get white wine at 7am. Well, you know the day's only going to get better.
Bird's in the nest for close to three hours. Kraut goes on in two hours. Stuffing an hour before the meal at 2.
And that image you saw isn't really my buddy Roger. His name is Roger, but where he's from and who is actually eating that bird, I have no idea. I lied. I'm sorry. I bought my bird at the store because I really don't like birds. It's more I don't like feathers, really. I don't know. I just like a clean floor.
Our turkey this year is named Terrance (not named after the great Terrance McDaniel). He spent all night in a pot of cold water covered in koshier salt. Bless his heart.
Well, be thankful for family, for friends, for country. Be thankful for food, for drink, for pie. Be thankful for football, for naps, for funk. Just be thankful and take a load off--I'm doing this cooking this year.
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