Then, we realized we didn't have enough potatoes by half to make Sis's favorite mashed potatoes, so Mama and Ma went to the grocery (and we don't like shopping on Thanksgiving).
Then, I realized I didn't defrost the rolls last night. I have 16 beautiful, homemade rolls that are totally frozen and don't have the 12 hours they need to defrost and rise. So I'm making rolls again here in a little bit--and will send the frozen ones to Mama Teacher and home with Goo.
Except now that throws off our careful oven calculations, as does the addition of roasted Brussels sprouts to the menu, which have to be cooked 75F higher than everything else. And I have, essentially, two ovens--a regular one and a convection one.
Sigh.
Add to that the general air of overwhelming sadness and loss from the hurricane underlining several conversations (while innocuously carving the turkey, Mama just learned that all the Hallmark Eskimo ornaments her mother had bought and saved for her since she was a little girl were lost in the storm, among so many other things)--there's gratitude, but with a very bittersweet air--and, well, I'm looking forward to baked brie (and the crust ripped all the way around halfway through baking, which I can't understand at all) and apple cider in a bit, right after a few mental-health moments I'm taking alone upstairs.
The kids have been having fun playing with Goo. They've practiced yo-yo moves, played catch with at first a crumpled-up piece of paper and then a Koosh ball, played Hackey-sack, played Dragonvale on the iPad, and are now playing Monopoly. Ma is helping Mama. Gong is in with the kids.
And the cats are peacefully oblivious, alone in their room.
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