All gone, except for the turkey’s ghost that will haunt our next few meals. I forgot to set out the cranberry sauce (the traditional kind, with the rings), but no one noticed and it was still nice. The sweet potato pies turned out far better than I feared, good enough that I gave one away.
And the fire that started in the oven when the roasting sheet overflowed with turkey grease burned itself out nicely.
Logic indicates that the ignition point of turkey grease must be somewhere between 325 F (the turkey-cooking temperature) and 425 F (the sweet potato biscuit cooking temperature).
One unwelcome holiday tradition did rear its ugly head (oven fires are not a tradition around these parts).
In the two decades I’ve lived here, I’ve had to have the drains roto-rooted twice.
Both times, they backed up on a holiday–Christmas Day, as it happened.
This year, they picked today, Thanksgiving Day, to back up.
They have never chosen to back up on a Monday evening when I could call the boss and take Tuesday morning off to wait for the plumber. No, they only back up on double-overtime extra-charges-out-the-ying-yang days.
I’ll have them rooted Saturday, since I’ll be away tomorrow. And whatever extra a Saturday call costs, it can’t be as bad as a Thanksgiving Day call (plus I don’t ruin some poor long-suffering plumber’s Thanksgiving). (Frankly, since I’ve been a homeowner, I’ve learned a lot more about plumbing and electricity than I ever wanted to know, and enough not to begrudge competent plumbers a cent of what they charge–a competent plumber earns every penny.)
All in all, an okay day. I hope everyone reading this (all two or three of you) and everyone not reading this also had nice Thanksgivings and lots of things for which to be thankful.