and to all a good night.
Christmas Eve festivities were scheduled to be held in our house this year. Everything started out according to plan (except for the knitting, which couldn’t have been completed on time even if sleep weren’t necessary). My DH had to work, so the girls helped put the extra leaves in the table, break out the good China and start preparing for the late afternoon meal.
Yep, everything was going as planned until it came to the turkey. It was mostly defrosted, but with plenty of cooking time I wasn’t worried. The first time I cooked a turkey was 20-something years ago while I was in college. Back then the poultry packers used metal wires to latch the bird’s legs together so the beast wouldn’t be spread-
eagle, er spread turkey when cooking time rolled around. The wire was a bitch to unwind while in one piece, but after a quick snip with a set of wire cutters then the two pieces could easily be removed from the drumsticks and the body cavity could be cleaned, seasoned, stuffed, etc. Personally, I’ve never cooked the stuffing in the carcass, but that is another chapter involving preferences and much debate on whether to refer to the output as dressing or stuffing. Anyway, in recent years the cumbersome metal wire has been replaced by a piece of thick, rigid plastic that blocks the opening and holds the drumsticks in place. And by “holding them in place,” I mean that each leg could be chained to a semi-truck being pulled in opposite directions and they wouldn’t budge apart. That plastic device is more effective than a medieval chastity belt at a convent. I couldn’t even squeeze a finger past it into the fowl carcass’ opening. I tried cutting it in the center, but my kitchen shears weren’t strong enough. I finally deduced (I’ve never claimed to be Sherlock Holmes) that cutting through the individual loops or holes around each leg was the only feasible way to removing the plastic from the bird. Heck, at least the metal wire wasn’t going to poison your dinner guests if it accidentally got baked. So, I began worming the blade of the scissors between the leg and thin part of the plastic. The first one came off, albeit with a degree of force my hands aren’t used to. When I went to cut the second leg free my hands were tired from doing the first one, and my right hand (the one that still listens when I give it orders) jammed into the side of the turkey. I felt something pop near the tip of my right index finger and that was when, as my mother would say, “The wheels fell off the cart.”
What used to be my favorite finger… the one I relied on to do virtually everything, stopped working. There was a smallish lump near the end of it on top of the last knuckle. It started to swell a little, but even then I was only mildly concerned until I tried to move it. Holy friggin’ mother of purl, that thing hurt. I called my DH to tell him I was going to the clinic, but given my driving history, he decided to come home from work early and take me to the clinic (thank heavens they were still open). The unfamiliar doctor looked at it, pressed in a few places, which resulted in quite colorful language, and sent me down to x-ray. Turns out I have something called, “Mallet Finger”. Long story just a little bit shorter, I damaged or tore a tendon, which took a small piece of bone with it. The now not-so-favorite finger must be kept in a splint for at least 6 weeks, no exceptions and at the end of the 6 weeks I need to go to the “Fracture Clinic” to see if it has healed or if it needs surgery.
My parents ended up following us the last bit of the way from the clinic to our new home, which is a good thing considering the Google directions they got were completely arsed up. Obviously dinner was not ready and waiting, but my DH jumped in and threw the rest of the meal together, so we were able to eat before midnight!
We ended up foregoing the matching China serving pieces. But sometimes you just need to say, “Nuts!” wear a silly paper crown and go with the flow.
After dinner and dessert the girls each got to open one present (that I picked out).
Inside were their annual Christmas pajamas.
My parents left soon after this to head north. They had reserved a hotel room halfway between our house and my sister’s. This morning they were heading to see her and then on to see my brother and his family before going home.
This morning we opened the rest of our gifts and lounged about the house like sloths for the remainder of the day. The more popular presents with the girls included A3 getting her very own Summer Sausage, A2 got new drawing pads and pens and A1 received make-up. Not much photographic evidence from today, as it was quite casual. The critters all got new presents too (catnip mice and a chew bone), but they weren’t impressed. Steve was on cloud nine just to have his favorite person in the universe (DH) home.
Typing without my favorite finger is challenging and slow. Knitting is, once again, not feasible as an activity. Entertainment for the next few months will be quite limited. Heck, the doctor didn’t even offer any pain meds. But all in all, this Christmas has been pleasant. Hope everyone is staying safe and warm.
p.s. next year we shall eat ham or roast beef for dinner