I wish, I wish, I WISH I was one of those bloggers. You know, THOSE bloggers. Who take their own photographs and are therefore ALWAYS ready for a photo op. Who manage to get their head in the writing game at will. Who never seem to struggle for something to say. Who document their holiday recipes before the day, so that their readers can make use of them should they so choose.
But, alas, I am not. If I tried to take my own photographs they would a) be woefully and laughably sub-par to the ones already here and b) most likely be nonexistent, because I would drop my camera in bubbling caramel sauce and then run around screaming like Beavis from Beavis and Butthead. And as for writing, I am at present a slave to my manic whims, which provide the only state in which I am focused and truly productive. So basically, I'm screwed and those of you who read me faithfully will be instantly recognized at the gates of heaven. By the Lord. Because you are saints.
Boyfriend Adam took the pictures from our Thanksgiving Feast, dutifully documenting every dish, not to mention committing to history images of my every bloated kin. Thanks, Boyfriend. I won't be photoshopping that poochy belly at alllllll....
Top left: my brother will not touch turkey without gloves. It's in his contract. The Ed-dog fires mind bullets at him, willing him to upend the entire carcass on her face. Top right: my desserts. All of them. Stay back. I bite. Bottom middle: coconut flour crust homemade pumpkin pie with red wine caramel sauce. If you're good, I'll post some recipes for these! If you're not, well. You know. Coal.
But, alas, I am not. If I tried to take my own photographs they would a) be woefully and laughably sub-par to the ones already here and b) most likely be nonexistent, because I would drop my camera in bubbling caramel sauce and then run around screaming like Beavis from Beavis and Butthead. And as for writing, I am at present a slave to my manic whims, which provide the only state in which I am focused and truly productive. So basically, I'm screwed and those of you who read me faithfully will be instantly recognized at the gates of heaven. By the Lord. Because you are saints.
Boyfriend Adam took the pictures from our Thanksgiving Feast, dutifully documenting every dish, not to mention committing to history images of my every bloated kin. Thanks, Boyfriend. I won't be photoshopping that poochy belly at alllllll....
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| I have just remembered it's Thanksgiving, and I have a blog. All the other bloggers are blogging on their blogs about Thanksgiving. Le crap. Last minute boyfriend bribe, stat! |
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| OMG. Turkey. Turkeyturkeyturkeyturkey. Incidentally, we use Alton Brown's turkey recipe...or "Uncle Alton," as he's known around our house. I feel like I should probably not make a point of sharing this detail with him... |
Top left: my brother will not touch turkey without gloves. It's in his contract. The Ed-dog fires mind bullets at him, willing him to upend the entire carcass on her face. Top right: my desserts. All of them. Stay back. I bite. Bottom middle: coconut flour crust homemade pumpkin pie with red wine caramel sauce. If you're good, I'll post some recipes for these! If you're not, well. You know. Coal.
Chocolate pie with meringue topping. A seasonal non-negotiable MUST-HAVE in our house for as long as I can remember. I mean, it's no coincidence that there are two of these babies. Yes, we are accommodating some food allergies (the one on the left is crustless and thickened with cornstarch) but we're also paying tribute to my grandmama, great-grandmama, and materfamilias's who came before. We are all about family and traditions, even if we tweak our understanding of them both as the years go by.
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! I do hope it was so blessed.
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! I do hope it was so blessed.
Tell your mama and them I said how they doin'.
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