... which is probably a good thing.
First, I'm exhausted.
Second, there was a lot of smoke.
But no fire, so don't worry.
We had a lot on the agenda today. Here's what I wanted done:
1. Screens off all the windows, washed, and stored in the garage.
2. Everything out of the shed and put back (including the picnic table, so it won't rot over the winter) in an organized manner so that I can get at my gardening bench.
3. Finish the rock wall / Samaria project.
Samaria? I know, it makes no sense. But what can I say, I have three boys. When they were little, they played an endless game with plastic dinosaurs, army men, and little glass rocks which they referred to as "Jewel Pets". Kerry calls one corner of our property The Black Forest because it gets little sunlight. That's where the boys set up their alternate universe, called Dino-opolis. And yes, it was as awesome as it sounds. Half the neighbor kids were involved and it went on for years. Years, I tell you. When the dinos wanted more space, they expanded into another corner of the yard, which the boys called "Some Area". Hence, SAMARIA.
But I digress. Samaria, in fact, is where I want a fire-pit. It's also the space Kerry has used as a dumping ground for rocks for the rock wall as well as anything that needs to be hauled away for the last several years. See the issue? So as long as we have the little tractor borrowed... besides finishing the rock wall (mostly done) we want to level that space. Only, one of us wants it a lot more level than others of us, who are content with less level.
Meanwhile, Gunnar had homeschool work to finish (and there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth), which took a good part of the morning. But NEXT week... NEXT week we're going to be on schedule. Right?
So, as the day progressed, the screens were off the window and washed. Not sure if they're stored properly, but the are in the garage. The shed has been emptied and refilled. Some progress has been made in Samaria. And Gunnar finished his schoolwork.
And then there was the turkey. Lo, the enormous turkey.
I thawed it out, hoping to cook it Wednesday (dentist appointments), or Thursday (errands, lab work, grocery shopping), or Friday (working in the garden), and really needed to get that bird cooked today. And I'm not kidding when I call it an enormous bird. Over twenty-seven pounds. It barely fit in my roaster, but I shoved it in the oven at quarter after one and figured I'd cook it until about 6:30.
Giving me lots of time to work on my Sunday School lesson. Because, as I mentioned, I have a little adapting to do. So there I was, upstairs in command central, listening to Bach's Magnificat and happily tearing construction paper into little pieces for a collage project, when Wyatt poked his head in and said that he thought the turkey was "boiling over". Well, Wyatt is prone to be a wee bit paranoid about things like crumbs smoking in the bottom of the toaster, so I wasn't too alarmed but I thought I'd better go check.
Good golly, Miss Molly, he was too right!
That turkey produced a lot of lovely drippings. So much so that there was no room for them in the roasting pan (with the twenty-seven pound bird) and the whole thing was dripping all over the bottom of the oven! And you know what that means... SMOKE.
Both the front and back doors were already open, so I turned the fan to High and flung open the kitchen window... which promptly sucked all the smoke the fan was venting outside right back into the kitchen. Yikes! I turned the oven off, set the bird up on the stove top, closed the kitchen window, and yelled to Gunnar to bring down a box fan from one of the bedrooms.
In the meantime, Tate saw smoke coming out the side of the house (from the kitchen vent) and came inside to help. Seeing the kitchen filled with smoke, he flung open the kitchen window, drawing more smoke back into the kitchen!
All we needed was a little tiny car full of clowns to make the moment perfect, right?
I'm surprised none of the neighbors called the fire department. But all's well that ends well.
We got the kitchen aired out, siphoned off about half the juices, and took the turkey over to my neighbors' to finish cooking (God bless them, I'll be taking them some meat and gravy tomorrow). Heaven knows I don't dare turn my oven on again until I clean it!
While it was cooking next door, I...
- sprayed our oven with oven cleaner
- washed up what I could
- made Tate's dreams come true by making Cake Batter Truffles, and hid them in the fridge
So there we were, eating turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy... at 7:30 pm. A bit later than we usually eat, but my boys will take turkey any hour of the day ;D
And that's the tale I have to tell to you.