Let's start with that turkey coma; caused by possibly the best damn turkey I have ever cooked. Actually, I"m blowing my own horn a bit here but; the entire meal was fabulous, representing my very best efforts to date. As I said, the turkey was absolute perfection, the gravy was easily the best that I have ever made (no lumps, right consistency, perfect flavor), my cranberry sauce was tart yet sweet, tangy but ending in a nice finish on the tongue (could have been the wine I substituted for cranberry juice, you know, maybe) and, to top it all off; everything came out of the oven and was on the table at the same time, that like, totally messes with the space/time continuum but; there it was.
"This is possibly the best looking turkey I have ever seen". Damn right, husband. Damn right.
Today, The Teenager and I braved the mall in Neighboring City. We didn't do any of that crazy-ass shopping at midnight crap, opting to get up at (the still unGodly hour of) 5:30 to make the drive. Happily, because so many crazy-ass people did do that shopping at midnight crap; The Teenager and I were able to shop in relative peace, grabbing fairly good bargains without ever once feeling the need to pepper spray our fellow shoppers.
Once we got home I set about decking the porch for Christmas and I am happy to say that the chore is complete. Hugh brought the tree down from the attic and, as I type this, we are waiting for him to set it up. We won't actually decorate it until tomorrow, however; I am exhausted from all the cooking, shopping and decorating and just want to eat my third helping of leftovers, heft my butt up the stairs and fall into yet another turkey coma. This time, though, I'll have to blame the stuffing.
Why yes, Finnigan did enjoy his first Thanksgiving; thank you for asking.