What I don't have a picture of my face or my parent's faces when I asked them if they liked my blog. I'd intended for them to read the pioneer woman food blog with lots of pictures (I like the butternut squash entry) but there was something lost in translation when I asked my brother to show it to my mom and they came looking here. Eit! Dad said, "it's a rather public diary." Mom said, "you sure write a lot". Mom always wanted me to be a writer, but it wasn't a compliment. I assured her that my blog has outlasted the attention span of many a fine reader. As I write partly for me and partly for an audience, some entries work better than others. I'm not sure they expected me to talk about my sexuality in public, about not caring about others' sexuality or, if it was just the amount of me I put out for public consumption, which was greater than usual this last month, I think. Maybe I use too many joining words like "so, but, since, although, and then". I'm still confused by their notably lackluster (but completely neutral) response, because I've written way worse garbage before that they thought was great (it was garbage). Since Dad even defended the reading of "My Two Dads" to an elementary class during his school board tenure, I hope it wasn't about my politics. Also since I talk about them here, I didn't intend for them to get ahold of the blog. It is public, but they spend little time online. What with all the "this is me and what I stand for" going on, maybe it was a good day for it. Still and all, they shouldn't have been surprised, they raised me this way. Of course, maybe they just don't like me hanging my every last opinion out for all to see. And all was not lost, as the bro and I changed conversational course and got them started watching Firefly.
Anyhow, onto the CrankyOtter Thanksgiving show, in the style of a pioneer woman recipe. I had to leave out some great photos of my dad in order to omit faces though. He's always happy around food. I'm putting the captions before/ over the pictures so you know what you're getting into. The new game is see how long you last...
Terducken! Who can resist? 12 pounds.
This terducken, a deboned duck crammed in a chicken, crammed in a turkey, is also crammed with shrimp and crawfish jambalaya. We overcooked it a bit to avoid germs but the baking bag mitigated the damage. It was de-lish-ous.
We put it on this festive table in my brother's Austin home, which has been decorated much more than mine. Not that there's any brother sister competition or anything.
Dinner started out like this, including the Star of Texas sweet potatoes with pecans and marshmallows.
And after a little reshuffling, it turned into this on my plate. Clockwise from top: Sweet sweet potatoes, mixed greens, stuffing with gizzards, mashed taters, terducken shrimpen, my favorite cranberry relish. Served with red wine and followed by pumpkin pie. Much, much later.
The next day, we had Rudy's BBQ for breakfast. This is not at all the same as getting 3 dogs for a dollar at the Chev.ron.
The day after that, brunch was Funnel Cakes. I think I didn't cook enough water out of the batter because there was an itsy bitsy issue with about a cup or two of oil escaping the pain in a violent foam. But tasty they were. Next time, a deeper pan is in order, just in cases.
In between the copious amounts of food, we watched Firefly, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (extremely funny), and played a bunch of Guitar Hero III.
Look, I can use the whammy bar!
This is more about the sales awards my brother won, on the table. And me rocking out to Weezer, most likely.
After I started playing songs I knew, I stopped getting booed off the stage and did really well! Still not ready to graduate to medium level though.
My brother has been playing a LOT of GH3. I think he needs to move to medium level now. Multiplier 8.
I finally got a 50 note streak on "My name is Jonas". My brother got them all the time.
But he got his 100+ point streaks and 2 perfect songs after a Trudy's Mexican Martini (Limit 2).
There. He wins the decorated living room competition and does better at GH, but I could hold my own after a while. And I have the cool shirt which I don't think I'll sell after all. I enjoy wearing it.
Now to figure out what to
3 comments:
I am also a Pioneer Woman Cooks fan...Hello Lover....still laughing about the Butternut Squash.
I made her Sweet Potato recipe for Thanksgiving...can you say absolutely wonderful?....they fought for the leftovers, it was that good.
You know what I love about your blog? You seem to have your finger on my pulse in so many things....it's like I'm there with you when you write it.
Don't start bragging about your GH3 skillz until you've at least gotten past the easy level.
:)
Rachel
Trudy,
Thanks for your comments! I have been completely blown away by reading blogs of people who might be totally different from me but seem to be going through the same thing. (I'm still bummed that Shasta shut down her blog. Reading her blog was like reading about my own life sometimes, only with different hair issues.) When I made pickles last night, I must have been channeling pioneer woman.
Rachel: Yeah, I know easy level is nothing to brag about, but someone didn't bust out the GH when I visited... So I'm still happy with my progress in 90 minutes of playing the game. I wore the GH shirt to work friday and all the managers talked about how their kids like playing it, but are on adv/exp level and can play behind their heads and the like. I just played enough to get some experience. And to get the song "Story of My Life" stuck in my head for a week, with occasional blasts of "Holiday in Cambodia" sneaking in.
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