Turkey Table

Oh the good times I had at the kids’ table on holidays. Us cousins would sit around a tiny table that our Gpa Morris constructed for Mama CBXB’s pre-school kids (she ran Kiddie Kollege from our basement) and we would have our construction papered pilgrim hats proudly atop our noggins.

Pilgrim Fun

Yeah, we know. Killer hats.

Topics often covered during the meal at our no-one-yet-in-the-double-digits table included knuckle sandwiches (usually whether or not I wanted one to which my response was, “No thank you I’ve already had one”), Sister CBXB announcing for the umpteenth year in a row she was thankful for her “Gaggy” (in non-toddler speak, that means dad although she couldn’t enunciate the “d” sound which made her declaration all the more nauseating for those of us who understood) and who was going to get a Jell-O knox block (this was obviously long before we started adding vodka to this delicatessen) for dessert first.

A few decades later, here’s what the same cousins look like at a “table”.

Knuckle sandwiches traded in for Patrón.

Now that we all live in different cities, states and the majority have procreated, the tables at turkey time look different but that doesn’t mean they still aren’t full of some fucking fun.

Maybe your table leans on the traditional side with overflowing dishes prepped by master family chefs (that would not be me, mind you).

Come and get it.

Maybe your table is a mixed bag of friends who all have human offspring but yours truly.

Maybe your table is surrounded by folks who don’t have spawn.

Fur moms.

Maybe your table is for two with your great aunt who has more energy at 90 years young than you’ve ever had in your life.

Head locked lovin’.

Maybe your table is surrounded by folks who show the fuck up when it matters most.

Sisters sandwich.

Maybe your table is reserved for remembering those who don’t physically sit with us any longer.

Margs and memories.

Maybe your table is full of extended family from far away, new friends and not one of you knows how to carve a fucking turkey.

Who has the knife?

Maybe your table is reserved for jazz handing, crown wearing queens.

Yes. We are all queens.

Maybe your table is filled to the rim with vino and friends.

Fuck food. Fill us up.

Maybe your once full table is empty as you relish a second helping of pumpkin pie.

Still desserting.

So Aunt Juju virtually joins you because we’re 500 miles apart.

Maybe your table is a toilet because you just need a holiday alone.

Never not classy.

Now new occupants reign the kids’ table, complete with their own artwork.

Turkey masterpiece.

The pilgrim hats of yesteryear have sure come a long fucking way.

The next generation at the turkey table.

Thanksgiving is a holiday for appreciation and I’m thankful for my fellow pilgrims who’ve weathered every type of table with me.

Love ya, mean it.

Cheers to enjoying your seat at the table, wherever and whatever it may be.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Gobble on.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Gizzards, Griswolds and Gaming

Over the river and through the woods to the mini manse they came…

So, I haven’t ever cooked a turkey (or mowed a lawn, washed dishes without rubber gloves, changed a dirty diaper… because you know, my nails are jewels, not tools) but my friend Rasta decided to bake a bird for the Thanksgiving holiday, as she wasn’t traveling back to New York. I had family from Iowa coming into Nashville, she was kind enough to invite us over and it was a Griswolds meets the Iowa Hillbillies meets City Chic. In other words, the best kind of holiday mash-up.

I’ll let you guess which is which.

I went to help prep the evening before and basically sat on my ample derriere washing the evening away with wine, BUT I did help with snapping green beans, K?

Being a sous chef is hard work.

Upon my return to the mini manse, I called Mama CBXB no less than 31 times in 25 minutes because I was attempting my first casserole with a whopping six ingredients.

What’s a ¼ lb. of cheese?

Do you drain the corn or leave the juice in it?

What’s a ¼ lb. of butter look like?

And voila!

Corn and noodle casserole was a hit.

OK, I may have eaten half of it but still, a success.

Rasta baked her tail off, as I supplied a cases of much-needed vino.

My contributions.

Rasta stirring up a storm in her kitchen.

Upon completion of the bird baking, no one in the place had ever before carved a turkey.

How many peeps does it take to carve a turkey?

The bird got divvied, the casserole was a hit and Precious the chug may have had the tryptophan kick in earlier than the rest of us.

Tired turkey.

Friday, after shaking off our turkey comas, we headed down to Bailey’s Irish Pub to join another 125 Hawkeye fans to cheer on our fave team for the last game of the year.

Hey-oh! Hawkeye time!

The outcome of the game looked rather bleak at halftime with the score being tied at 14-14 (and as the Hawks basically rolled over and died their last two games, it was anyone’s guess as to who would win). But, in the third and fourth quarters, Iowa scored an unanswered 42 points, leaving us with a winning 56-14 score.

Somewhere between shots one and four…

… and somewhere between shots five and eight.

Of course each and every time the Hawks scored, I had to Facetime Dada CBXB who was up in Iowa visiting the twins.

I can’t hear you but drink!

What do you do after a victorious beat down? Celebrate, naturally. We headed to Robert’s Western World for some of the best old school honky tonkin’ around.

Showing G’Lee a fun old-fashioned country time.

Enjoying the holiday leftovers in Iowa, my BIL was showing off his doughing skills, making turkey and gravy pizza.

Dough master.

No one was upset about the use of leftovers.

Of course, the second the clock struck 12:01 am the day after Thanksgiving, the twins were ready for Christmas. And the decorating commenced.

Tree trimming.

Old school advent calendar.

While the mini manse residents are still recuperating from the shenanigans – surely, it’s just a turkey hangover.

Snuggle train still ongoing.

A day of Hallmark holiday movies and moving from one side of the couch to the other worked wonders for us.

Working our wind down with wine. Duh.

Here’s hoping your well on your way out of a gravy coma.

CBXB

Pilgrims Rock

Aren’t you glad you had fellow pilgrims to sit with, no matter what table you were destined to dine during Thanksgiving?

Pilgrim Fun

Yeah, we know. Killer hats.

Topics often covered during the meal at our kid’s table included knuckle sandwiches (usually whether or not I wanted one to which my response was, “No thank you I’ve already had one”), my sister announcing for the umpteenth year in a row she was thankful for her “Gaggy” (in non-toddler speak, that means dad although she couldn’t enunciate the “d” sound which made her declaration all the more nauseating for those of us who understood) and who was going to get a Jell-O knox block (this was obviously long before we started adding vodka to this delicatessen) for dessert first.

So while Thanksgiving is a holiday for appreciation, I’m thankful for my fellow pilgrims who weathered the children’s table with me at every family gathering…still to this day.

Hope you enjoy the seat at your table, wherever it may be.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Gobble on.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks

In deep recovery from a food coma, here’s a peek at my Nashville Thanksgiving weekend shenanigans.

Ted all snuggled up in the front seat, on the way to Grandma’s house he goes!

It’s a framer! Here’s a picture of the fam as we decided to get out and enjoy the 65 degree day before overindulging. Note to self – don’t ask anyone over 70 to take a picture with an iPhone (they will put it up to their eye and ask where to click).

My view of our leisurely Turkey Day walk. (Yes the 80-year-old was bare-chested. No, it was not in the least bit attractive but of course I still had to take a picture). This image made us practically sprint to finish.

Our foursome wished we had something to quench our thirst after all that walking.

Pre-turkey tasties (my family masters the art of snacking). Healthy treats (unless you eat a half-dozen of my mom’s deviled eggs. Damn it!).

The man who acted like he cooked everything until Mom pointed out that turkey and potatoes were only two of the 12 things being served. King of Dramatization.

Instead of playing the old game “Where’s Waldo,” we got to play “Where’s Teddy” all weekend due to his need of escaping out every crevice and sending me on an endless wild goose chase. Here’s what I found lurking in the garage. The little shit.

Turkey Day halftime entertainment. Me and my boy, Kid Rock.

People watching at Target, 10pm Thanksgiving night. Around 800 people were in line to check out. MADNESS.

This ended up being all the Black Friday I could handle. Elvis, the owl eyed cat on the right celebrated his one year anniversary with my family. We rescued him last Thanksgiving, as he came up to the back door and begged for turkey (he fits right in, with his love of food).

Ever the cat to lend a helping paw, Teddy project managed the holiday decorating process of one of my parent’s ledges.

Make any holiday memories of your own this past weekend? Submit them by this Wednesday to win the CBXB’s giveaway.  A pink sparkly deer head – it will go perfectly over your toilet and make for all kinds of fun conversation, I promise.

Happy Holiday Seasoning!

CBXB

Thank God for Pilgrims

Aren’t you glad you had pilgrims to sit with, no matter what table you were destined to dine during Thanksgiving?

My sister and I with our Brown Boy cousins, quarantined to the kid’s table, drinking out of our fabulous Care Bear glasses and fashionable, festive holiday hats.

Topics often covered during the meal were knuckle sandwiches (usually whether or not I wanted one), my sister’s love of her “Gaggy” (my dad, although she couldn’t enunciate the “d” sound but she was always thankful for nothing but her “Gaggy”) and who was going to get a Jell-O knox blocks for dessert first.

So while it’s a day for appreciation, I’m thankful for my fellow pilgrims who weathered the children’s table with me every holiday gathering…still to this day.

Hope you’re enjoying the seat at your table, wherever it may be.

Gobble on.

CBXB

Redneck Roadtrip

With many Americans gearing up to travel over the river and through the woods for Thanksgiving, is it possible to make a 1,000 journey seem bearable?

Well, of course it is.  It’s all in how you approach your trip.

First, you need something to eat.

A chocolate dipped cone always starts my road trip off on the right wheel.

Filling up on cheap spirits (they have to last nine hours, so don’t get anything top shelf) will help you pass some time. If you drink just enough, you will get out of your leg of driving, (clever, yes. Well received by other passengers? Not so much. But who cares, you’re ready for karaoke in the car).

Road rot gut. Taaka vodka and a Diet Coke from Quik Trip. Keepin’ it classy while killing brains cells and miles.

Car karaoke is performed by travelers who are just drunk enough to play one CD ad nauseam and sing every word (that they don’t know –  it is a constant mumble until the chorus) so the most annoying passenger (usually me), wants to throw themselves out of the moving vehicle to prevent their brains turning to mush.  It is imperative to pack good tunes or you might turn yourself into roadkill.

My ears were bleeding at the sound of any lyric off of this Luke Bryan album that was played on repeat no less than 13 times.

Take pictures of machinery indigenous to the region of the country in which you are traveling. It will provide endless confusion as to what the object you just photographed could be…

Is it a combine? A tractor? Who knows?  It’s definitely not an International Harvester.

Make sure you bring a coat to put over your head to ensure privacy during phone conversations.

My mom in her sound proof phone booth, talking to my Gma.

Presents are a good way to distract the impatient folks who incessantly ask that dreaded question, to which you can reply, “No we’re not there yet but how ’bout a gift?”

Who cares if we have 658 more miles to go? You just scored a mini bottle of rot gut vodka AND a framed photo of you from your cheerleading days in college. Lucky!

Every time you stop to get gas, be sure to get a snack. And also NEVER wear non-elastic pants in the car (they won’t expand with all of your mindless eating out of boredom).

My fourth carton of the most delicious dip in all the land – Anderson Erickson’s French Onion. See the big sweatshirt? Expands with each dipped chip I inserted into my yapper (people who travel with me like it when I eat. I’m quiet for the 30 seconds it takes to inhale my snacks).

And hopefully, when you arrive to your final destination, Grandma is waiting just as anxiously as Teddy impatiently waits for my return home.

WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? My fur ball welcoming committee of one usually cops an attitude the second my key hits the lock.

Now you have all of the tools needed to quickly pass the nine hours it takes to get to your crazy relative’s house for the massive amounts of turkey, stuffing, yams, turkey, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, turkey, green beans, pumpkin pie and turkey.

Just don’t forget your drawstring pants for the ride home.

CBXB

Candy Mani Mania – The Sequel

So, as I was having a mouth party with candy corn over the weekend, I was again inspired to recreate the sweet treats on my nails.  Instead of the traditional candy corn, as I did before, I went with the chocolate caramel flavor.  I know, I know. So edgy.

This manicure seemed appropriate, as I will be stuffing my face all week in honor of Thanksgiving.

I first painted two coats of Chanel’s Black Satin (it was a gift, I’d never spend that kind of dough on nail polish – although it’s fabulous!), then had to wait patiently (not a skill I possess with ease) as my nails dried.  After my base coats were completely dry, I attached Scotch tape toward the lower half of my nail.  Below is an example from the original Candy Mani Mania.

Dry already!

After this step, I added a coat of Sally Hansen Xtreme Nail Wear in Crushed and let it set for a few minutes.  I applied Sally Hansen Xtreme Nail Wear in White Out to the tips (as I would with a French mani).  I’ve gotten a steady hand from so much practice but there are strips you can place at the tip of your nail if you don’t trust your abilities.  Add one coat of Seche Vite top coat and you’re done!

Tasty lookin’ trio

Now just try to not eat your nails for dessert.

Gobble. Gobble.

CBXB