On the way to work this morning, the radio crew were on the phone with the Pickle Poll, which was this old guy who wouldn't shut up, but was damn funny.
Apparently, for the last several elections, this guy has predicted the outcome of the election by taking a bushel of pickles and cutting each pickle into pieces. He separates the pieces by party, then dries them. When they're dry, he counts the seeds, and that gives him his poll numbers.
I'm boiling this down for you. He was already talking when I got in the car, and the crew had to cut him short just as I was getting to work. He rambled a lot. As I was pulling out of the neighborhood, he was talking about how a fellow he knew back in World War II had asked him, "If it takes one chicken one day to lay one egg, how long would it take a monkey with a wooden leg to kick all the seeds out of dill pickle?" I had to boil that down for you, too.
But what the heck; it can't be all that much worse than the traditional polling procedures.
By the time K.T.'s game rolled around on Saturday, I'd sortof forgotten about my birthday. I mean, not really, but I wasn't actively thinking about it. So when she showed up with a cake and a balloon and a present that turned out to be the very cool-looking Chinese Zodiac dragon beanie baby, I was surprised.
And after the game, I did my bit to increase the value of the other Zodiac dragon beanie babies out there. I snipped that obnoxious little heart-shaped tag off of mine.
So, I'm slowly trying to get ready for Thanksgiving. With less than two weeks to go (Gah! Where did the time go?) I've got my menu mostly planned, so I'll probably buy a turkey and most of the non-perishables when we go to the grocery store tonight.
So far, the consensus on the gravy seems to be that as long as the plum gravy is a cognate of traditional gravy, I should go for it. (One person specified a lack of lumps, but since Matt specifically told me that it was the little lumpy bits of turkey in the gravy that he liked best, I suppose I'll disregard that.) My mother was concerned about how the plum gravy would taste on mashed potatoes, though. I guess we'll find out. We can consider it revenge for all the times she served us some "experiment" for dinner.
In the meantime, I need to coordinate with my mom to borrow some serving dishes and utensils, and buy, borrow, or steal a gravy boat and a roasting rack.
And get Matt a present for his birthday, since that's exactly two weeks from today.
Why, yes, I am feeling sortof disjointed this morning, why do you ask?
Word of the Day: cognate - of the same or similar nature; related, esp. by descent from the same ancestral language
- Lord of the Fire Lands by Dave Duncan
Current Projects:
- Mom's Christmas stocking
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