Out of the frying pan and into the freezer
My kind of dinner. Last night I got a 20 lb turkey ready and today Ash baked it up perfectly. So dinner time rolls around and I cut up the turkey and put the good cuts in storage and we all picked the carcass for dinner. Wow, that sounds odd, but maaaan, was it tasty. It was a stand-up affair. I didn't make mashed potatoes or anything else that gravy would have been good on... if I had made gravy. Instead, I brought home Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia and we washed down all that meat with ice cream - ate the whole thing. My GOD, it was amazing. Somehow those two liberal hippies got that flavor so right, it almost hurt. I couldn't savor it, I had to devour it. So right before bed I cleaned up the drippings and turned off the stock pot... and I couldn't help myself, but I opened the freezer and took a bite of the kids ice cream (Breyers chocolate chunk, btw) and I thought to myself, why the heck do I feel compelled to have that one last bite? What does that say about me? What does it say about the nature of satiation? As usual, I didn't think too long about it. I took yet another bite of chocolate chunk and closed the container and opened the freezer and reluctantly put it away. When I did I noticed that there was an odd frozen shape in the freezer with what looked like grass in it. I never noticed it before. I was a bit taken aback. Then I realized it was a snowman. My children put a snowman in the freezer (it had to be Adia, actually) and we had turkey and ice cream for dinner.
Well that's just life isn't it? Its odd and delicious and doesn't make sense and the great days that we had are put in the freezer with the dirt and grass and the damn automatic defrost takes the face off of it, but it still gives you a warm feeling to look at it when you put your kids' ice cream back after you raided that last undeserved bite.
What I really wish is that I could eat the sunshine on that cold day that we built that snowman... along with the sunshine from today that was tinged with the smell of baked turkey and the afterglow of Cherry Garcia. Hell, I want to open the freezer and eat the sunshine of all the great days of my life and then come back an hour later and take
one. more. bite.
But like the snowman, most of my days are just not edible. Nor are they in some container that can be opened. They are memories.... and they are in a freezer that I can't even find, let alone open.
Well that's just life isn't it? Its odd and delicious and doesn't make sense and the great days that we had are put in the freezer with the dirt and grass and the damn automatic defrost takes the face off of it, but it still gives you a warm feeling to look at it when you put your kids' ice cream back after you raided that last undeserved bite.
What I really wish is that I could eat the sunshine on that cold day that we built that snowman... along with the sunshine from today that was tinged with the smell of baked turkey and the afterglow of Cherry Garcia. Hell, I want to open the freezer and eat the sunshine of all the great days of my life and then come back an hour later and take
one. more. bite.
But like the snowman, most of my days are just not edible. Nor are they in some container that can be opened. They are memories.... and they are in a freezer that I can't even find, let alone open.
