Brining the Turkey and Ferguson

Last night, I prepared the brine for my turkey.  Because my bird is usually over 20 pounds, I end up with over 4 gallons of brine plus 22 pounds of ice to go in the brine, plus the weight of the bird (23 pounds this year), plus the weight of the cooler it gets to chill out in.  It will soak from Monday evening until Thursday morning.

So, why am I talking about holiday preparations at the same time as I bring up the Ferguson grand jury decision?  I guess it’s to bring home the point that life goes on…and maybe, just maybe, it shouldn’t.

I’m not going to offer much commentary on the decision.  I don’t have nearly enough information.  To offer up an opinion one way or the other would be irresponsible, so I’m not going to do that.  Instead, I’m going to offer up a statement of fact: black lives matter.

As a white woman, I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the bullshit people of color have to deal with.  Intellectually, I know the bullshit exists.  I can admit, though, that I don’t always “see” it.  This has to stop.

THE BULLSHIT HAS TO STOP, PEOPLE.

We, as individuals, as communities, as a nation, have to find a way to rise above our prejudices, our ignorance.  I’m sick of seeing people die.

We all have the potential to offer something great to our world, so why the fuck are we limiting ourselves?

Black lives matter.

Gay lives matter.

Immigrant lives matter.

Women’s lives matter.

WE ALL FUCKING MATTER.

It’s time to start acting like it.

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Too Much To Handle

They say that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade.  Or, that you should make grape juice and let people wonder how you did it.  Life handed me a small orchard’s worth of lemons this past two weeks, and I’ve got those bastards in my freezer so I can throw them at people.

Things started to go awry when I was informed my oven was broken.  When was I informed of this, you ask?  Well, I’ll tell you.  It was right after I posted a blanket Facebook invitation to my holiday table for all of my friends who might be without loved ones this Thanksgiving.  Because nothing can be simple, I’m not going to be able to replace it for awhile.  It’s a narrow built-in unit and we can’t really replace it without redoing the entire kitchen.  So, this Thanksgiving, I’ll be attempting to roast my 23 pound turkey at my neighbor’s house while being over here preparing the rest of the meal.  My kitchen-fu is strong, though, so I just might pull this off.

Next, we had to take our dog, Cocoa, to the vet.  She’s a senior dog, unspayed, and pretty well behaved for the most part.  She listens better than the other animals, at any rate.  The vet diagnosed her with cancer.  She also has arthritis, which we are medicating to keep her comfortable.  With the way the tumor keeps growing, we don’t think surgery will do her much good in light of all the risks the surgery holds for her.

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My Cocoa Pup’s tumor. She almost looks like a male dog when she’s standing because of where it’s located and how big it’s gotten.

My younger son is heartbroken.  He loves these dogs and he cried after I told him she was sick.  She’s not acting like she’s in too much pain, and the meds for her hip help her move better.  When the time comes, I will probably have to be Cocoa’s medical proxy, as it were.  I refuse to let her suffer and I have a feeling I am the only one who will be able to be objective about it.  Sometimes letting go is harder than holding on.  This is something I know about.

After Cocoa’s diagnosis, my computer died.  I did what I could to fix it, but it gave me the Blue Screen of Death followed by the Black Screen of Fuck You, so it is well and truly dead.  Hopefully on Friday I can take it in somewhere to get it looked at.  As for now, I’m working on Joe’s laptop.  I do not like working on laptops, but beggars can’t be choosers.  At least I have this as an alternative until I can get mine fixed, so I’m being grateful.

A few days after my computer’s untimely demise, Saranda, our alpha female (at least, the way she tells it.  I’m sure Cocoa begs to differ), got an eye infection.  Of course, Joe instantly blames Smeagol for this.  My cat is a good kitty.  He doesn’t participate in run-by scratchings.  Danna never messes with him, so I knew he didn’t scratch her.  Turns out, I was right.  She has doggy pink eye.

By this time, it was time to pick up my boys for the weekend.  We were in the car driving home from Peru, Indiana (where I was telling them about Cocoa and breaking their hearts) when my transmission locked up, flipped me off, and left me stranded on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night.  It will cost more to fix than the car is worth, so I am now without a car for the next few months.  Because of course I am.

While I was waiting to be rescued, Joe informed me that the washer broke.  We needed to buy a new washer and dryer anyway, but this was not when we were planning to do it.  So, $1900 later, we have our new washer/dryer set.  It was delivered this morning.  They were worried it wouldn’t fit down our stairs.

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Of course, as I’m going through and trying to clean the house for the holiday feasting, I keep finding old piles of dog vomit.  Apparently, when Danna got her shots at the vet, she decided she wasn’t going to tolerate them very well.  She’s been horking all weekend and if she’s still doing it after today we have to take her back to the vet.  This will be a neat trick seeing as how I don’t have a car and I’m the only one with the time to do it.

Oh, and because this clearly isn’t enough to deal with, we discovered our front garage is leaking right above where we have all of our Christmas decorations and tree stored.  I don’t know for sure yet, but I feel it is reasonable to assume we will need to replace at least the tree.  We store the other stuff in a big Rubbermaid tote, so that stuff might be ok.  Of course, there’s still a leaky roof to contend with.  Because of course there is.