Thanksgiving Eve Eve

I'm writing late at night (1:51 a.m., says the little clock in my task bar) feeling moved to jot down a few random thoughts. I was fortunate in having my camera handy when the ladies took up "meat loaf mode" at the other end of the couch; these days Evangeline's been spending considerable butt-warming time, tucked up behind me on my end of the couch. It's nice to be able to reach back and rub a silky ear....of course, I can't actually SEE her (especially since she's usually snuggled on or under my black shawl) and there have been those occasions when I reach back and am greeted with an offended "MROWWR?" as I encounter not the silky ear but the... but her--uhm--well, in this house we refer to it as "the rosebud". When black-kitty Evangeline makes a Social Comment by pointedly walking AWAY from me, tail aloft, tip waving -- it's very clear, that pink rosebud. I try to peer over my shoulder to avoid a Rosebud Encounter.

OK, random thoughts: there have been a couple of requests for more information on the History of Dolls as presented at NAVC; I'm actually working on a sort of syllabus to send to the participants, and I'd be happy to send it along to anyone interested too, upon request. It's not going to be done in the next few days - maybe not even the next few weeks, this being "the holiday season" and all, but it was promised and will be completed and delivered.

There were also queries about the "Chykken Gallantyne" pie. I'll try to put the recipe in a format friendly to this blog. Suffice it to say, the only tricky or cook-y part is the sauce, but I think I can describe it. Keep in mind, it's made with yellow mustard, brown sugar and ginger marmalade, and I don't measure. But I think I can describe the correct appearance and taste. Other than that, I throw in cut up apricots and slivered almonds (toasted is nice but I'm occasionally frequently lazy, domestically speaking, so they're just slivered almonds right out of the cellophane). It's very medieval flavors, although in this case the strong flavors of the mustard and ginger are NOT masking the cloying sweetness of the decaying meat. It WAS, in the Middle Ages. I know. Me too. Shut up.

Furthermore: someone had mentioned the Holiday Knits stamps, the seasonal 41 cent postage stamps. There are four designs: a reindeer, a fir tree, a snowman and a teddy, all knitted in a simple (yeah, that's easy for YOU to say) stranded knit. I bought a book of them and they're adorable! Although I'm a wide user of e-mail, I do love plain ordinary common old-fashioned (outdated?) correspondence on stationery with stamps. "Snail mail", don't ya know.

Incidentally, if you have trouble remembering which means "paper to write letters on" from "unmoving", stationAry is the unmoving variety: it sits on its ASS; stationEry, the letter-writing paper, has its "E" for the envelope. Is that not clever? That's the educational portion of today's message.

Incidentally, the Lovely Daughter pointed out the other night that I start a great many sentences with "incidentally". Yeah, I guess I do.

At the Late-Night Knit last Friday at the Sow's Ear, Elizabeth S.A.B.L.E. brought her Fair Isle sweater, upon which she is in the final stages. If you go look at the pictures on her blog you will see knitting of such delicate design and subtle color change as to be amazing, or as I would describe it, "incomprehensible". I like love the way it looks, and freely admit that it is way past even my aspirations, but I take such delight in looking at it. As stunning as it looks in the pictures, it is (as is so often the case) pale in comparison to the real deal. I consider it a genuine privilege to gaze on such work - and to complete the image: the wrong side is just as neat and tidy as you could imagine, a series of perfect straight little lines, strands, carrying the colors smoothly along. It's such fun to see!

And in closing (it's almost 2:30 am now, and Evangeline is stirring behind me and making little mutterings which I recognize as her suggestion that I remove to bed where she can settle in on the feather tick behind my knees thenkyewverymuch), may I say that I've been watching the Food Channel as I write. Isn't all-night TV great? I'm watching the Semi-Homemade gal preparing a Thanksgiving dinner, of course. She just rubbed her big turkey with butter under the skin - and I don't mind telling you, seeing her hand moving under that pimply-looking bluish-white skin did nothing to pique my anticipation of tasty food. Then she rubbed some greenish herbed butter all over the OUTSIDE, massaging it in with what can only be described as a perverse sensuality. Oh yeah, I'm going to bed.

(Mr Dearling makes our turkey and it's golden and fragrant and flavorful, moist and absolutely perfect...and he doesn't do anything rude to it at all.)

To add final insult to injury there's a commercial for another upcoming special in which the word "feisty" appears on the screen for a split second....spelled wrong. You have to really watch for it, but they have it "FIESTY". Oy vey. Good night.