Dissecting a Turkey

Well, it’s Thanksgiving here in the U.S.A.

       *yum*

Just out of curiosity… am I the only person in the country who will cook a small turkey for themselves if they’re going somewhere else for the big meal?

Maybe I should qualify that…

If I know there will be sufficient turkey enough that I can bring leftovers home, I do not cook my own. But if the table is seating more than 6 people, I refuse to take the chance of being left leftoverless.

I’m not so particular about any of the rest of the meal - if I get sides to take home, that’s great, if I don’t, I can always make a little something. If there’s no extra pie, I might sniffle a little but secretly, my jeans are thankful.

But do not deny me my bird, dammit!

Because that Thanksgiving turkey is not just the main course of a meal, is it? It’s also a warm house, full of tantalizing smells that evoke happy times; tasty sandwiches to reward you for braving the malls and poring over mail order catalogs; a lazy Sunday afternoon spent relaxing while the remaining leftovers simmer down into a tasty soup to put away and enjoy on some blustery January day. There's a lot goin' on in that one bird!

Really, Thanksgiving may seem like nothing more than one big day of gluttony (and let’s be honest, it is that) ... but it’s not just that. 

Thanksgiving is also mindfulness and memories; traditions, family, friends, and love.

And who wants to miss out on any of those?

So, Happy Thanksgiving, if you celebrate it.

And all the blessings of the day to you, even if you don't.

Update, Reasons, and Thanks

I got laughing at myself, posting for Love Our Lurkers time, because in truth, I have felt like my own biggest lurker lately. Like many in this corner of Blogland, my well has run low.

Reasons abound, of course.

The biggest is just that I’m plain busy.

At work, those changes I said I hated have resulted in long days that leave me drained, physically and mentally. Plus, I’m also working more hours at my second job. House repairs put serious dents in a girl’s pocketbook and I’m doing what I reasonably can to offset at least a little of that pain. But that means more hours hunched over a desk, squinting at multiple computer screens (oh, for the days when I only had to look at one!) … which kind of dulls the excitement of going home and hunching over a different computer screen as a way to relax. (Altho’ at least there is only one there…)

Then there’s the house itself. 

Besides the usual seasonal tasks of raking, garden clean-up, and gutter clearing, I’m facing some major house repairs and renovations. Most of which involve stuff I can’t do. (“Step away from the electrical, Jz…”) But there is a goodly chunk that I can tackle, so I’ve been chipping away at those parts in my downtime. 

Which, by the way, would go a lot more quickly if my father hadn’t been an “outside the box” thinker when it came to construction. (It’s solid, by God, but to pull it apart…?  BG took a look at some of it and went, “WTF???”  … Yes - Exactly.) Plus, in addition to the interesting construction, I’m also battling the defiance of 60 years worth of rust. My house went from smelling like burnt tar and epoxy to the pungent fumes of assorted penetrating oils. (None of which have been significantly helpful yet.)

It’s just not a quick process. (And I do not own a Sawzall.)

There are also relationship reasons for my silence. 

We’re doing fine. (Altho’ I’m questioning how much longer we will go before the next major intersection is reached.) He’s still molding and crafting… but, well, I just seem to be having fewer and fewer eureka moments that I want to share with the world. (Partially because the ones I do have seem to be additional turns of the same old cogs. This counts as progress of course, but it still ends up sounding like I’m talking circles around the same stinkin’ thing. And that gets tedious for both reader and writer.)

There’s still a whole lot of joy in what we do, and a lot of laughter and caring… just not as many stories at the moment. (Altho I do have an idea for one, if I can finesse it into the form I want!)

Finally, there’s BlogLand itself. 

It’s plain ol’ quieter in my little corner these days - and while I completely understand why that is, a lot of the desire to talk out loud here stems from the interaction it gives me with people. Many a good post has started with a thought that bounces off something that someone else has said, so when fewer people are writing and comments are down (that’s not guilt, just a fact,) there are simply fewer reflective surfaces for the bouncing ball that is my brain. Of course, I can still lob the odd thought out there by myself, but it's just not as much fun to do that when no one returns your serve.

None of which is anyone’s fault - but it is a factor.

Which is a big reason why I am so appreciative of all the LOL Day comments, from lurkers and known quantities alike. Your responses gave me a much-needed boost of blogging energy and I thank you all for that.

In fact, I’m feeling so good about it, I’m gonna bake you all some cookies! :-D

Stay tuned…

Did Someone Say Cookies?

On Wednesday, December 7th 2016,

the seventh celebration of the increasingly inaccurately named

Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza 

Returns!

And I hope that you (yes, you!) will join us.

The rules are pretty simple:

          1- Post a recipe on that day for a holiday goodie. 

That’s it - rules finished.  

       *dusts off hands*

The goodie doesn't have to be a cookie… or even be sweet.

That, in fact, is where the increasing inaccuracy comes in - because we have all KINDS of goodies on offer! (There are many forms of holiday goodie love, after all.)

The one catch is that if you want to get your name on the official list of participants: 

You must contact me (Jz) by Monday, Dec. 5th, with both your name and the address of your blog. (I don’t mind if you do this through the comments section below, but if you do, please make sure that you include an email address at which I can reach you. << why I prefer an email - two birds with one cyber-stone.)

I'll also be happy to post a recipe for anyone who'd rather participate that way.

I hope to hear from you (yes, you!) soon!

Oh, Lovely Lurkers!

This is it - the day you’ve been waiting for!

(Likely with dread, if you’re a lurker to the core.)

Because it’s Love Our Lurkers Day once again - that special time of year when I tell you how much I appreciate you, each and every one of you, my silent readers - and then beg you to please, just this once, change how you roll and leave a comment.

I know you’re out there - I see your visits in my statistics.

I love that you stop by, that you read, that you care.

But I know nothing about you - which is kind of unfair, don’t you think?

You know oodles about me, from my tenuous relationship with lingerie all the way to my unlikely obssession with sumo… Yet the only tidbits I can glean about you come from statistical analysis. 

Which is a start, I suppose, but fairly impersonal.

And for all my touch-avoidant disposition, I like hearing about people, not statistics. 

So I wonder about you, my lurkers.

What you’re like, where you come from, why you read here…

      What’s your favorite kind of post to read?

      Is it the occasional kink or the occasional humor that draws you more? 

But even more, I want to know about YOU.

      Do you like to cook? Bake? 

            Share your recipes?

      Are you good with home repair? 

            (Can you give me some pointers?)

      Got any book recommendations for me?

      Podcasts?

      Do you have a dog? 

            Is it goofy? Yippy? 

            Can I pet it?

      What do you collect?

            Paperweights? Mugs? Lovers?

      Where would YOU travel to if you could go anywhere in the world?

      Do you already live somewhere *I’d* like to visit?

      Would you like to meet for coffee?

            (Do you even drink coffee?)

Best beloved lurkers, the questions just tumble from my lips!

      Enquiring Minds Want To Know!

Surely you could take pity on me and answer one tiny little question?

      Maybe two?

(Or at least say hello?)

      (Limericks, round two, anyone?)

(Oh, and by the way, yes - I love and appreciate all you chatty-type readers with all my heart as well.

Just sayin'...)

P.S. - thanks to Hermione for organizing the day! (and the list of other participants)

LOL is coming!

It's almost time for us to Love Our Lurkers again!

This Friday and Saturday will be that special time, when we tell you how much we appreciate you, the hidden reader... and then ask you to decloak and leave a comment.

So start preparing your courage now!

(please?)

(at least think about it?)

maybe...?

The Basement Full of Men

So… I currently have a basement full of men.

I know that to those of us in this particular corner of Blogland, those words conjure up visions of dungeons… dark places full of intriguing devices that fill us with apprehension… and shivery anticipation. So you may well assume I’m setting you up to read a marvelously torrid tale.

But, no - it isn’t nearly exciting as it might sound.

Because I may have a basement full of men…, but I also have wet floors, no useable toilets, and a house that smells like burnt tar, epoxy, and welding. 

Not to mention a couple of thousand dollars less in my already-straitened slush fund.

Now, I’ve tried to squint hard and make a torrid tale of it…

     (lemonade from lemons, if you will)

My basement is indeed dark and gloomy, so that part works. 

Perhaps a bit too homey to really fit the dungeon bill, but still…

     Dark and gloomy… check.

And one of the men is certainly eye-poppingly attractive - I’m pretty sure I can manage to imagine him all in black, wielding an intriguing device… (Yep, that works.)

     Devastatingly attractive lead man… check.

The rest of the men, however, fall short as fantasy fodder. They just don't have enough of the right look or vibe to feature in A Tale. 

Especially the guy who scuffs his work boots as he waddles, wheezes loudly, and curses mindlessly - also loudly. The only thing my imagination can come up with for him is to cast him as a troll that guards the door. (Which sort of tips the tale into paranormal territory, but that’s an argument for another day.)

Plumber as sexy Dom, however, is where any salacious inspiration ends. 

It’s simply too dirty and dusty and noisy and smelly down there for me to transform my basement into the sort of erotic alternate universe that can host a torrid tale.

Even the intriguing devices don’t hold up under close scrutiny. There’s nothing more exciting in those toolbags than arc welders, plasma cutters, and a sledgehammer — NONE of which are tools I consider to be, in any way, shape, or form, “pervertibles.” 

(I’m just not that edgy.)

All in all, this experience has been nothing more than a defeat of my imagination.

A Basement Full of Men…

Who would have thought that could be such a let down?