![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turkey and stuff(ing)
Nov. 23rd, 2018 10:25 amI wore my birthday outfit (pictured here) to work for the annual pre-Thanksgiving dress-up day. Either sitting with corset-enforced posture or standing for a couple of hours later in hurty if lovely Fluevog heels messed up by back.
So I wasn't exactly in perfect shape to cook my promised share of Thanksgiving dinner, but cook I did. This year I did the cornbread stuffing right, with two skillets full of cornbread, but I made it with walnuts, to which which one of my guests is allergic. D'oh! But next year will be better: I've taken notes, one of which says to use pine nuts. J's feijoada was quite tasty. Did you know linguiça is Portuguese sausage? Now you do. And yes, one of my guests showed that you can make apple crisp in an Instant Pot using steel-cut oats, and it's teh yum!
A couple of guests asked to get the bird on the table early because they wanted to go turkey-hopping, which was OK with me not least because I had a date with Taller Woman. It got a little strange when she called me up 90 minutes early telling me that the place where we were supposed to meet was closed, and could I come to the Hill early? Okey doke, says I. She seemed a little... distraught and at loose ends, and even though I'd promised to wear the birthday outfit, I didn't relish the thought of more pain. (I was already wearing the Gallery Serpentine outfit, which has a powerful Thanksgiving vibe.)
We got lucky, though: the Unicorn was open, right around the corner from where I parked. So we got some cider and chatted, expressing relief that it wasn't packed. I knew her ex was bad, but she told me some things that would have curled my hair were it not already curly. Seriously, the dude is dangerous, but TW is pursuing him to the fullest extent of the law. She's on it like white on rice for her son's sake; that boy is her life, and I respect that. I did not ask for a kiss good night, which is unlike me, but something told me last night was not the time. She did extract a promise for a later date from me, one that I have every intention of keeping. We called it quits fairly early, mainly because I was wiped out from the above.
I blew off dancing with Funny Lady et al. at R Place, which ordinarily I would have been thrilled to do, but I was just too damn tired.
So I wasn't exactly in perfect shape to cook my promised share of Thanksgiving dinner, but cook I did. This year I did the cornbread stuffing right, with two skillets full of cornbread, but I made it with walnuts, to which which one of my guests is allergic. D'oh! But next year will be better: I've taken notes, one of which says to use pine nuts. J's feijoada was quite tasty. Did you know linguiça is Portuguese sausage? Now you do. And yes, one of my guests showed that you can make apple crisp in an Instant Pot using steel-cut oats, and it's teh yum!
A couple of guests asked to get the bird on the table early because they wanted to go turkey-hopping, which was OK with me not least because I had a date with Taller Woman. It got a little strange when she called me up 90 minutes early telling me that the place where we were supposed to meet was closed, and could I come to the Hill early? Okey doke, says I. She seemed a little... distraught and at loose ends, and even though I'd promised to wear the birthday outfit, I didn't relish the thought of more pain. (I was already wearing the Gallery Serpentine outfit, which has a powerful Thanksgiving vibe.)
We got lucky, though: the Unicorn was open, right around the corner from where I parked. So we got some cider and chatted, expressing relief that it wasn't packed. I knew her ex was bad, but she told me some things that would have curled my hair were it not already curly. Seriously, the dude is dangerous, but TW is pursuing him to the fullest extent of the law. She's on it like white on rice for her son's sake; that boy is her life, and I respect that. I did not ask for a kiss good night, which is unlike me, but something told me last night was not the time. She did extract a promise for a later date from me, one that I have every intention of keeping. We called it quits fairly early, mainly because I was wiped out from the above.
I blew off dancing with Funny Lady et al. at R Place, which ordinarily I would have been thrilled to do, but I was just too damn tired.
