Friday, November 30, 2012

#82 He Eats Dessert for Breakfast

My Thanksgiving was awesome.  So awesome, that I have been hesitating to post pictures because they are sure to bring about jealousy to anyone reading this who was not at my family's Thanksgiving feast.

And perhaps even to those who were there and wish they could relive it.

The day started with my family coming over my house decked out in their jammies ready to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade and eat breakfast.

Although we wouldn't be eating our dinner until late afternoon, a couple of turkeys showed up anyway.

The menu for breakfast had been planned out with care:

Oh yes, I forgot to mention.  Thanksgiving breakfast with my family is dessert, not breakfast.

Let me repeat.  We eat desserts for breakfast.

Yes, that was plural.  DessertS.

Now, before you begin thinking my family as totally crazy there is, of course, a story behind the madness.  When I was growing up, my Aunt Linda (whom you may remember from this post) and my mother would talk on the phone as they began their Thanksgiving feast preparations early in the morning.  The overwhelming temptation to taste their freshly baked pumpkin pies was among the highly important conversation topics.  Then one Thanksgiving, my aunt had enough.  When she called my mother that morning she told her, "Kathy, I did it.  I ate some of the pumpkin pie for breakfast!".   My mother joined in and soon the entire family was partaking in the tradition of eating dessert for breakfast on Thanksgiving.

My Aunt Linda has passed on.  Continuing the dessert tradition, in a way, is a piece of her still with us.  When I got married, I wanted to have Thanksgiving breakfast at my house.  I get a little carried away, and, well, Thanksgiving breakfast is no longer just a few simple pies.

It's apple cider donuts.

Chocolate trifles.

Pumpkin and chocolate chip bundts.

Cherry cheese pie.

Chocolate chip cookies.

And more!  It is with great sadness that I admit I didn't take pictures of the apple dumplings, the better-than-pumpkin-pie, or the delicious cinnamon rolls that my SIL, Kristina, and I worked painstakingly on during Thanksgiving Eve.

This Thanksgiving I had a "mini" theme going which is why most of the desserts pictured are bite-sized or in quantities of more than one.

Somehow, each year, despite the second and third helpings of dessert that we all enjoy, we still find the energy and drive to want to eat more only a few hours later.

If the dessert pictures were hard for you, this will probably be worse.

You've been warned.

This is contestant number one: the deep fried turkey.

But oh wait!  What is that behind contestant number one?  

It's everything you thought it was.  Contestant number two: the roasted turkey.

Unfortunately, there is no heart warming story behind the fact that my family makes two turkeys every year for Thanksgiving.  It is simply this: we like deep fried turkey, we like roasted turkey.

All we want is everything.  That's not to much to ask, right?

This year, my parents purchased a new turkey fryer.  The last one could only fry a 13-pound turkey.  The new one fries a 20-pound one.

So of course, we got a 20-pound turkey to deep fry.

It was a little hard for dad to get the other turkey out of the roasting pan.

I forgot to mention, the roasted turkey was 24-pounds.

I'm not sure what method of turkey lifting he is trying here.

All I know is I was really worried for the safety of that bird.

Even Justin was worried.

Carving a turkey has become a full family event.  It started as a special time between me and my dad, yet it has evolved into quite the show.

Some people work a little harder than others.

But this is always the end result.

I'm going to level with you here.  That's my fork in the bottom left corner of this photo.

I'm not ashamed.  This is the way I eat turkey.

Never at the table.

Never on a plate.

Once both of those 20-pound delights were carved basically bare, that was when I really began to dig in.

After all, right up against the bones is where the best pieces of meat are.

It's all about waste not, want not, right?

I hope your Thanksgiving table was as plentiful as ours!  I must admit, I'm longing for next year already.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

#81 He Lets Me Pay Google

As I began to upload photos yesterday of my awesome Thanksgiving, my plans of posting pictures that would make my audience jealously drool all over their computer screens were momentarily foiled when I received this message:

Apparently, I've been blogging so long, or so much, that now that I need to pay to continue blogging, or at least, to continue posting pictures to my blog.

I just thought you, my readers, would be interested in knowing that earth shattering information.

Okay, I also might have secretly hoped you would feel sorry that I need to pay $2.49 a month now just to post pictures on my blog.

Since my blog has reached this plateau of sorts, I would be interested in finding out what kind of things those who have been reading my blog enjoy reading about.

What have been your favorite posts so far?

What other blogs do you read?

What would make this blog better?

And no worries, my Thanksgiving post will be up soon so that you can covet the delights that my family devoured throughout Thanksgiving day.

Friday, November 23, 2012

#80 He Builds Fences

As of a few weeks ago, this was the most recent status of the fence lining our tiny backyard:

I wish I could say that this happened because of Hurricane Sandy.  I wish I could say I watched as the forceful winds made my fence rock back and forth until finally, the wind won out.

Unfortunately, I cannot.

Over the past few weeks, Lowe's has become one of my dear close friends.  This aisle in particular:

And hubby's tush has become a point of interest while I stood in the aisle bored to tears.

 So did Instagram.

In the picture I snapped after this one, hubby had just looked up at me and realized I had been taking pictures of him.  The look on his face is not one I think you want to see.

I received the same look after stalking hubby through the back door as he worked.

I'm pretty sure the last time I did this was years ago when we were engaged.  He was playing soccer.  The teams were shirts and skins.  I guess you can figure which team he was on....

What makes me mostly proud about this whole endeavor is that hubby did this all by himself.  It might not seem a difficult task for some, but hubby sits behind a desk crunching numbers all day.  Building things is not something he has do do daily.

The fact that he can make something out of nothing makes me feel kind of warm inside...

and happy that the neighborhood kids can no longer run through our backyard to get to their destination quicker.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

#79 He Lets Me Win

Hubby and I made a bet about a particular recent happening in our nation. We had made a similar bet, oh, about four years ago.

I lost that bet.  And I lost this one.

My winning would be that hubby would allow me to put up all my Christmas decorations.  That means they would have been up the first week of November.

You must understand, this is an event that hubby strongly dislikes.  And this is not a strong dislike in the same way as my father who strongly dislikes seeing anything Christmas before Thanksgiving.


This is a strong dislike in the sense that hubby cannot stand the whole concept of decorating for Christmas at all.

I know, he's a murderer of Christmas cheer.

Despite this, my spirits are never dampened.  Because as much as hubby strongly dislikes Christmas decorating, he also strongly dislikes disappointing me.

So, last Sunday he told me I could put up the tree.

There was much laughter and rejoicing as Jonathan and I blasted the Rat Pack's Christmas album while sorting and assembling tree branches.

We bought a timer for our tree a few years ago when we went to Las Vegas the day after Christmas.  (You know, so that all the thieves would be fooled into thinking that even though our car wasn't outside, we had to be home because our Christmas tree was on).

We never used it again, but I decided this year we were going to.  Hubby set it so that when I come downstairs in the morning it will be on to greet me, then go off while I'm at work, and back on minutes before I come home.

I think I love him a lot.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

#78 He Makes My Day

Yesterday night's events in my house are worth repeating.  Here's what happened:

1. I began making pumpkin puree.  If you follow The Orange Strainer you know that I recently accomplished this feat for the first time.  Since Thanksgiving is right around the corner, I decided I would do it again.  It was with great strength, eventual pain, and much more time than I'm proud to admit that I cut three sugar pumpkins in half and threw them into the oven to bake. 

Note: No, there are not three pumpkins pictured here.  

2. My Christmas book came in the mail.  Even though it is only self-published, I was pretty excited to see my stories looking as if they'd been authentically published.  If anything, it is inspiration for the future.

If you'd like to purchase my book (please do!) click here.  

 3. I broke my blender.  It was this point when my night began to go downhill.  I had scooped my pumpkin out after it had baked and thrown it into the blender.  After a little pureeing, I went to stir it up a bit.  Then, I'm pretty sure I blacked out.  The shock was too great for me to bear.  The next thing I knew I was staring at a hole that had somehow come to be in my poor blender.

It is for your peace of mind that I have chosen not to post a picture of the remains of the deceased.

Following that event, my blender was then tossed into the garbage and the puree was cast into the wind.

And I may or may not have cried.

4. I made chicken parmigiana.  This is one of my favorite meals on earth to make.  Reason one...because I love pasta.  Reason two...because I love cheese.  Reason three...because I love sauce.  I suppose I could go on, but you get the point.  Somewhere around reason eight is my love for pan fried chicken.    

5. Later on in the evening, after I had vented about my broken blender, my husband looked at me and said, "You're my favorite person."

And that absolutely one hundred percently made my day.