Thursday, November 17, 2011

Faking It

Company Cometh. It is that time of year when we gather together and sacrifice a large bird. Tofurky isn’t really an option unless I want to become the sacrifice. My family falls into two categories concerning my writing habits. Clueless and Busy with their Own Pursuits and Understanding to a Certain Point. It is mostly the latter group that I will be playing Quelf with next week. They are normally understanding about my odd habits and penchant for spending long stretches of time in alternate universes, but on certain occasions they expect things. Like feigned normalcy and “real food”. I grapple with both concepts.
My daughter is taking classes in a far off land where they don’t celebrate this particular Kill a Big Bird holiday. Savages. At least that is where I think she’s at. Occasionally I Skype with her and there is a flag of said country in the background. Beyond that she could be living in the basement right here for all I know. I should probably check. My other children, their friends, my in-laws, their friends, and various nieces and nephews and their friends will be arriving in a few days. I’m googling bird and gourd recipes while trying to remain in this universe for long stretches of time in preparation. This also involved time spent shopping at Walmart (the biggest sacrifice of all). I’m not entirely convinced that place is in this universe. There is, without doubt, some sort of time-space disruption going on there.
While not a fan of cooking and baking, I am a huge fan of a happy family, so I’m wrestling with alien kitchen gadgets and struggling with mathematical concepts like tripling and quadrupling recipes. My kitchen is covered in a coating of powdered sugar and nuts with footprints going through it. The bottom of the oven has crunchy formations rising up like an army of failed baking stalagmites. They hiss YOU SUCK AT FRACTIONS and stink every time I turn the oven on. Apparently it matters if you quadruple the liquids and only double the solids. Who knew? Yet my family is worth all the effort, and I am thankful for every one of them. Besides nothing says novel-material like a family gathering, wouldn't you agree?

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If you can hear me, verbose on me. Or throw glitter. Wotever.