The year my boys were two and five, I decided to follow my mother’s example and use the turkey carcass to make soup. What a great idea, right? I simmered the carcass for hours in a huge stainless pot. By then it was pretty late, and since I was too exhausted to do anything more, I put the pot in the extra refrigerator in the basement. And forgot about it.
Weeks later,
realizing the "soup" was now aswirl with deadly organisms, I
transferred the pot to the cold garage. And forgot about it again. Until the spring
thaw.
Having no clue
how to dispose of the lethal brew without slaughtering innocent animals—or
people (could water treatment really neutralize what were probably deadly
undiscovered toxins?)—I carried the pot outside and stuck it under a tree at the
back of our property until I could figure out how to safely make it go away. Out of sight, out of mind.
Come summer, the
pot with its murderous contents was still there. My husband got rid of it,
expensive pot and all. I never asked how.
Holidays bring
back memories—the ones we’d rather forget, the ones that make us laugh, and the
ones that touch our hearts.
What are your
favorite Thanksgiving memories—the good, the bad, or the ugly?
On behalf of all the
Writers Who Kill,
we wish you a very
HAPPY
THANKSGIVING!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING to ALL! My T-giving culinary adventures started when I cooked the bag of giblets inside the turkey.
ReplyDeleteSince our large extended family ate Thanksgiving dinner at our house (we had the most room) my mother would get up before dawn to put the turkey in the oven.
ReplyDeleteWaking up to the glorious scent of a roasting turkey is one of my favorite memories.
Okay, Connie, don't you think that by now it's safe to ask your husband what he did with the toxic brew? Enquiring minds want to know.
ReplyDeleteSo funny, Connie! Reminds me of the year we found the last Easter Egg -- in May.
ReplyDeleteConnie,
ReplyDeleteYou have to tell us what your husband did with the soup.
The mystery of the missing soup!
ReplyDeleteHappy Thanksgiving, everyone! Thanks for commenting. Jim and Marilyn, I may get up enough courage to ask him. He may have forgotten.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, this year's feast was terrific. And I decided...no soup.
Margaret, I did that the first time too. And one year I stepped in a pumpkin pie on the floor of the car as we drove to my parent’s house.
ReplyDelete