A Poogie Thanksgiving

Another Thanksgiving in the books here in Poogieville.  This year's edition included Uncle Chris, Aunt Holly, Tyler and Autumn who joined us for the feast. 

The turkey was deep-fried for the fourth consecutive year.  Erica shot some footage of me from the kitchen.

 

In case you were wondering, I always fry turkeys in full flame retardant gear and I always invite the local media to watch me set the neighborhood on fire.

The weather was fantastic this year.  For those of you who have braved a Thanksgiving over at Holmans-North, it's either going to be sunny and in the 60's or windy and snowing sideways. 

There are no "in-betweens" in NE Ohio.

Here are the kids before the cousins arrived.  They waited nearly fifteen minutes at the front door for the fun to start.  I love their dedication.

Here's a picture of the deep-fried bird.  She topped the scales at roughly ninteen pounds and took an hour or so to fry.

Here's a picture of the fryor.  He topped in at 200 lbs. with the walking boots and November scruff.  I have no clue how long I would take to crisp up, but in 2001 it only took about three hours in the Sarasota sun.

(A note about Erica: she did another fantastic job putting together some all-star sides and putting up with me.)

Caroline was Mom's kitchen helper this year.  She even stirred the corn casserole and sunk the butter patties with a butter knife.

And then Caroline proceeded to "plant" the butter knife in the corn casserole and it was thoroughly baked into the side dish at 350 degrees.  A thank you to Holly for finding the knife during dinner.

If anyone in our family ever does time, have Caroline send you her version of "Corn Casserole".  You'll be out in no time.  I'm sure she can also fit a shiv into a Dora book, if you need it.

We used our red wine glasses this year.  Ironically, our red wine glasses are actually white wine glasses.   Thus, if someone asks you if you want red wine glasses for a gift, make sure you specify whether it is a red wine glass or a Red Wine glass.

Don't make me explain the difference.

(We love you, Nana.)

And speaking of parents.  The Big Guy and Grandma were on the shelf with BG's version of alien childbirth -- kidney stones.

Erica made two meals for the grandparents and I ran slowly walked it over.  Here's me and my dad on Thanksgiving enjoying the view from the medical ward.

I'd try to spin a funny story about kidney stones, but I don't think there is one.

Here's a picture of me and BG's "nurse" before they broke into costume.  C'mon, you know they totally did.

Finally, we concluded Thanksgiving with a visit from the neighbors who are back from nearly two months in Arizona.  The homecoming was bittersweet for us.  I mean, those late-night parties we hosted at their house were wild and fun.  I had no idea how we were going to get zebra dung off the carpet or the midget out of their dishwasher.

Thank God for Goo-Gone and a crowbar.

(Yes, I know the correct term is "little person.")

Anyway, the kids made up for lost time and were put in trance by our movie theater popcorn popper.  If Mason ever asks you to eat his popcorn, take my advice.  Don't. 

Mason believes in warming the popcorn kernels to about 75 degrees, then dumping them straight into a bowl. 

He's probably going to loose some teeth that way.