Moving On

Wow.   I don't know if it is the New Year, the fact that my wedding, honeymoon and other assorted festivities are now in the distant past, or some other strange unexplained phenomena, but I suddenly have a colossal burst of energy to get things done.

So much to do, but where to begin?    

We are in the midst of combining households (I may hold the record for longest move-in ever) and trying to figure out what new married life looks like while balancing the ginormous task of the incredible amount of paperwork, phone calls and planning to be done (okay, I may be making this a bigger deal than it is) and I just feel like playing or doing pretty much anything other than packing boxes and filling in forms.

The sudden burst of energy though has me on a mission to accomplish everything and more in the shortest time possible.  The sense of urgency is back, which is super exciting.   While planning the wedding and all the fun stuff was, well, fun, there was a little part of me that missed my old self.     I'm looking forward to this new post wedding life of mine.

But, first, I must finish this move.    The days of bringing over one thing at a time from my old house are over.    I swear, I've tried moving numerous times over the past year.   It usually consists of me driving to my house, looking around and instantly freezing.   Sometimes accompanied by a minor panic attack.    Followed by leaving and resolving to coming back "later".

Moving is an emotional task, to say the least.   Other than changing my name, which will happen eventually, it is kind of like the final goodbye to my old life.   Sad, in a sort of happy, but yet sad, but happy way.   Make sense?

Anyway, time to move on.     I've been absent for the past week or so as I've finally starting digging in.   My days have looked a little something like this:

• Putting on my moving clothes and driving a car full of boxes 20 minutes to the old house. 
• Lugging boxes up three flights of stairs. 
• Wrapping up a million things in at least as much newspaper.   Permanent newsprint on hands.   
• Lugging one box at a time down three flights of stairs to the car (or persuading John to come over after work and carry the 'really heavy' ones).
• Getting temporarily sidetracked with trips down memory lane by looking at old photographs, reading old letters, etc.   
• Driving back to the new house, slowly, to make sure nothing breaks along the way.    
• Lugging one box at a time into the house where it sits until the next day.     I thought our house was a mess before with all the wedding stuff, boy was I wrong. 
• Unwrapping each piece and cleaning every single item before it finds a home.    I'm sure it was clean before, but now that it has a new home, I suppose it needs to be super clean. 
• Rearranging cabinets, shelves and drawers, over and over again, until space clears up for new things. 
• Back to step one. 

So much fun...  I can hardly stand it.    

On a positive note:

• I will have a lot more time on my hands when this is done. 
• Every day is a little like Christmas.   Wrapping, unwrapping, repeat.
• My things will be really (really) clean. 
• I finally have my wok back. 
• The days of the house as "Man Cave" are numbered.

Once this move thing is finally done, I have lots of new things to share and some exciting ideas brewing.     Plus some fun new wedding and honeymoon posts on their way soon...  Moving on is a good thing!  

(now... back to work...)

Simple Math: A Beginner's Guide to Turkey

"It's simple math dear."

Words not to be uttered in our house again.  I will also never reveal who said them.

How hard can roasting a Thanksgiving turkey be, really?

I mean, it is really just a big chicken, right?

My Thanksgiving holiday preparation was rolling along at an almost perfect clip.    Menu planned carefully in advance.   Shopping divided among stores and days.   Completed in a timely and organized manner.   Turkey ordered (early!) and picked up to rest gently in a chilled setting until it was time.

I even had a beautiful new roasting pan (thanks Aunt Bev and Uncle Frank!).    Graduated from the kind you have to pick up last minute at the grocery store.

My recipes carefully organized.    Cranberry sauce completed Tuesday night.   Green beans and brussell sprouts washed and trimmed.   Stuffing prepared.   Sweet potato casserole awaiting its final topping.  

All I had to do was flip on the Macy's Day parade, finalize my fantastic sides and dessert and whip out a fabulous turkey.   Really, how hard could it be?

I enlisted John to wash our new friend (we named him, but he shall remain nameless), remove the neck and gizzards (what are these anyway?) and pat him down and lay him to rest in his new pan.    Meanwhile, I chopped fresh herbs and rubbed them lovingly all over "him" (don't worry, the turkey... not John).

"So how long does this thing need to roast anyway?   Do we have a plan?"

"I don't know.   Couple hours.   Maybe 3 - 4.  We'll just keep checking the temperature.   With our new thermometer."

Forty five minutes in, our friend receives a sweet little turkey bath and a fine shield of tinfoil.    Feeling pretty good at this point.    Santa has made his appearance and we are rounding into Eukanuba dog show territory (am I the only one who actually watches this)?

Sides are positioned for final baking/sauteing/mashing.    Looking good.

"Do you think we should check the temperature?   You know,  just to make sure we're on track?"

"Sure.   Let's do that."

"Does this really say 190?"

Enter freak out panic mode.   Turkey overdone.   Nothing else ready.   First Thanksgiving as a married couple.   Ruined.  Forever.   Did I mention RUINED?   FOREVER!

"It's simple math dear.   Didn't we calculate the total time it would take based on the weight of our turkey?"

Fighting words.   Math was never a strong suit.   I rely on data.

"Well, I rely on data AND math. It's pretty simple."

Rapid change in plans.    We are no longer speaking.    We will finish the sides, clean up and sit down to a meal of cold turkey.    We proceed.

"I think it is time to carve the turkey now.   It has been resting for like, an hour and a half."

"Does this look pink to you?"

"Is that blood?"

"Stop poking it.  You are letting out all of the good juices."

"Does it really matter at this point?"

Unbelievably annoying.    We break out the red wine.   Things begin to look a little more promising.   No worries.   We'll just stick it back in the oven and hang out by the fire for a bit.    It is what it is.  

Dinner, when it finally all came together, some hours later, was unbelievably good.   Yes, we had a few starts and stops and moments of escalating tension, but in the end, it was a lovely meal.    We gave thanks for many things.   The turkey and (crack-like) dressing even made it into our post meal top three ranking of Thanksgiving dishes.

My advice for those preparing turkey for the first time (solo or with another non-expert) - It is never that simple.   There are so many factors involved.

I am convinced that this is another one of those situations where practice makes perfect.   I am looking forward to many more years of practice.

Wishing you and yours a Happy Thanksgiving weekend!  Filled with love, good food, good friends and family and whatever else your heart desires!