I was so organized....I made a list of the things we had to cart to the EGs, but as in most things, fate stuck his middle finger out at us. While on an expedition out to the garage to get a box to pack the food in, he tried to put down the garage door, it groaned, twisted, and broke. So now it is hanging at an obscene angle, waiting for a repair person, which after much effort, we decided was not us. At the Thanksgiving dinner, I asked Craig if he knew how to fix a garage door and he said yes, you pick up the phone and call the repair guy. Good advice, which I will take in an hour or so.
The highlight of the evening was listening to Susie tell how she is going to give up the shop, so I guess that is the end of the shop adventure. Then we looked at pictures that Craig took on their drive across the country, taken on his digital camera and printed out on his computer for instant gratification. He took sunsets over the desert that were so gaudily beautiful that I asked him if they were computer enhanced, but no, the color is really like that.
As usual, corn pudding was served that was a bit iffy. Ever since she started making it in the microwave it never seems to get done in the middle, so since it is loaded with eggs, I have to avoid it, which is too bad because I love it. I should get her an instant-read thermometer. There are several food items that were new to me when I married into their family, midwestern foody things I had never had before or even heard of, like corn pudding, German potato salad, forgotten cake, and others, all delicious. Having a Latin background makes me like an exotic flower in their midst. Once Christmas dinner was at my house and along with the mundane things, I served them homemade tamales.
So now, to most people it is the day after Thanksgiving, but to me it is still going on, and I have a pot with about three dozen eggs boiling for deviled eggs. For once there might be enough. Usually, January's boys eat them faster than you can set them down. Then I have to make even more rolls, and massive amounts (maybe twenty pounds) of mashed potatoes. This was where my daughter excelled, all I had to do was peel them in the fast, wasteful, Navy way my dad taught me, chop them, and leave her to it. Now I have to work.
Luckily, I got smart and told him that he was designated kitchen clean up, so all I have to do is cook. He didn't grumble too much, either. This morning he went into the office, but I told him he had to be back by two to peel potatoes, so we will see what transpires.
Off to have pumpkin pie for breakfast...