Lloyd Thanksgiving, 2025

Well, I fucked up the turkey. 
Sigh.
I was so very, very happy and proud that I got everything, EVERYTHING done before anyone even showed up. The cream was whipped, the biscuits were cut and on the baking sheet, the stuffing had been made and the turkey was cooked and tented in aluminum foil and resting on the traditional plastic turkey platter I got in Monticello at the hardware/general store in 1979. I'd made the iced tea, both sweet and unsweet and even cut lemons to put in a little dish to go with. 
I washed and put away the roasting pan!
The entire kitchen was neat and tidy and I was running the first dishwasher load of the day. 
It was seriously the most organized and efficient Thanksgiving dinner I'd ever presided over. The kids got here and were very impressed, and their casseroles and Lauren's charcuterie board were all laid out along with the deviled eggs Lily made and the smoked salmon I'd bought at Costco with crackers, mustard, cream cheese and capers. Kisses were given, hugs were given, grandkids were happy, everyone was impressed with my laid-back attitude, knowing that I had everything under control, baby. Observe and learn. 

And then. And then...

I put the biscuits in the oven and they were raising like the angels they are named after and I asked Glen to carve the turkey and oh, what a glorious feeling it all was until...there was silence from Glen. 
"I'm not sure this turkey is done," he said, holding the carving knife in one hand, my grandfather's carving fork in another. 
Excuse me. Not done? I had used the very expensive meat and whatever else thermometer which had assured me that the meat was up to its proper heat and I'd wiggled a leg and I'd cut into a breast and peeked to see what color the juices were and they were reassuringly not pink, and besides- it had been tented and sitting for a few hours at that time and everyone assures you that the bird will continue to cook for awhile as it sits. 
So it was hard to believe but I went over to see what Mr. Moon was seeing and by god, that turkey was so not done. I mean, most of the breast was done but the rest of it was, without a doubt, a threat to human health if consumed. 
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. 
And remember- the biscuits are already in the oven. 
The bitch bird had to go back in the oven. No doubt about that. Lily suggested that we slice the breast and put the slices in a casserole dish, cover it with aluminum foil, stick it back in the oven and deal with the rest of it later. 
Which is what we did. 
The biscuits baked, the turkey breast slices got done, and Thanksgiving was saved. 
Not that not having a turkey would have ruined it. But you know what I mean. 
We all sat outside at two long tables. 

That is hardly a good picture but it's the one I have. You can't even see Gibson, while Owen and Maggie are barely visible. Glen looks like he's had about enough of that, and, well, it is what it is. I have to say it was a beautiful day with a sky bluer than that tablecloth, and very cool. Cool enough for me to need a sweater. 

Shall I go through the menu while we're here? 
Turkey breast slices, twice roasted, vegetarian and non-vegetarian cornbread dressing, gravy, angel biscuits, and cranberry relish. That was what I brought to the table. Lauren brought the charcuterie and the sweet potato casserole which, after a lifetime of sampling sweet potato casseroles, I proclaim to be the best I've ever eaten and it is. She also made banana pudding. May made mashed potatoes that were perfect in all regards, along with an arugula, apple, pecan and various nuts salad with an orange vinaigrette. Lily made macaroni and cheese and the deviled eggs and the veggie tray and brought the kids' drinks and all sorts of things I'm sure I'm not remembering. Rachel went crazy and made green bean casserole, spinach casserole, stuffed acorn squash, corn pudding, and an apple pie. All delicious.

(Photo by Rachel. Thank you, honey!)

Again, I'm sure there was more but forgive me, I'm old and can't remember shit. 
So yes, it was a typical Thanksgiving here and with the power of sweet baby Jesus and Zepbound, I really did not eat that much but then again, I never eat that much at Thanksgiving. By the time it's all on the table, I don't even want to think about food. 
Everyone brought leftover containers and after we ate and took a little while to digest, everyone got what they wanted to take home with them. Of course no one got turkey because it was STILL IN THE OVEN where I'd put it to resume cooking. We got out the pies and slices of those were cut and wrapped to take home too. 

I now have a refrigerator filled with leftovers and the better part of a turkey. I'll use some of it to make various things but I have a feeling that most of it will become soup. I can get out my biggest pot and make enough turkey stock for the coming year. 

We are a funny family, and I am so very grateful for these people connected to me by blood and by birth, by marriage, and most importantly, by love. 

I cracked up right after had we begun eating when Lily said, "We didn't even say a prayer or, what's that thing called that you say before you eat?" 
"Grace," someone said.
"That's it!" Lily said. 
And I believe it was May who said, "And that explains why we didn't say it."
Lord, we are a bunch of heathens. Although Maggie did just get baptized a few weeks ago at her other grandmother's church. 
We didn't even go around the table and say what each of us was thankful for. I think we know what we're all thankful for which is each other and health and love and all of that stuff but I did tell Michael later that if there was one thing I was most thankful for that didn't involve my family, it was that Donald Trump will die at some point. Even if he outlives me, I know that he is not immortal and will die. 

One more picture that Rachel took. 

If those two are the sort of devils that populate hell, sign me up. 
As I always say, I'll save you a seat at the bar. 

Hey! Happy Thanksgiving! 

Love...Ms. Moon