Another turkey to remember

Happy Thanksgiving! May you enjoy good food, good friends, and wonderful family.

Some of you may remember last year's turkey debacle. If not, here's the link to that particular post.

This year....THIS YEAR....I am thankful that we again were just the three of us and not a houseful of family. Because we had another turkey issue - the opposite end of the spectrum. I bought our 10-pound turkey this past Friday and put it into the freezer.

At 5 AM on Monday, I removed it from the freezer and gently placed it in the refrigerator.

At 5 PM on Wednesday, I poked a finger into its side and it "mooshed," which told me it was defrosting nicely.

At 11 AM today, I went downstairs and got the turkey from the fridge. I carried it reverently up the stairs. I patted it as I prepared to remove the packaging.

The )(*@&#& was frozen solid. See if I am nice and gentle next year. Next year, I am giving that bastard a solid kick with a steel-toed boot before cooking it.

So, that's how the turkey saga started. There's more.

The Man and The Stepson went for a free breakfast and planned to be home by noon. The Man had a grill to fire up.

At 10:30, when I began to prepare the dressing, I pulled the celery out of the fridge. It drooped like a bassett hound's jowls. What the hell. So I called The Man, who had to stop and get libations anyway, to pick up some more celery. I called every 10 minutes for the next hour and a half.

At noon, he called and said they were on their way home (the place that they were at is a half hour away) and that he would get the damn celery, damn it.

At 12:45, the two walked in the door. I immediately went to work chopping and slicing onion and the damn celery. I put together the dressing and scalloped corn and finished prepping the %*#@&^ turkey (which I defrosed in the microwave, by the way) with butter under the skin, oranges, garlic, and onion in its butt (it deserved it, don't you think?), and olive oil, salt and pepper on the outside of the skin. I handed it off to The Man to place on the grill.

An hour later, The Man came in the house and said, "honey." Oh, hell, now what?

The grill had dropped down to 175 degrees. Yes, people - instead of baking in an hour, I had an essentially raw turkey after an hour over the coals. I had already preheated the oven in anticipation of baking the side dishes, so I hauled out the roasting pan, trudged outside, and grabbed the $%&#@ bird. And put it into the oven. At which time I noticed that nothing else was going to fit with the huge roasting pan I just bought (premonition, perhaps?).

Good God. Is this day over yet?

Thank goodness I sprung for the convection oven/microwave two years ago. I heated that gift from heaven up to 425 and put the dressing in it. Then I fired up the toaster oven to 425 and popped in the scalloped corn.

And prayed.

It all worked out in the end. The Man, The Stepson and I are all rotting on the couches, watching "Christmas with the Kranks." We are recovering from pigging out and I am already contemplating the pie to come.

Sure as heck hope that your Thanksgiving dinner went a little better than mine.