I have made and/or helped make the following in the last 48 hours:
1. Three 8x12in pans of Foccacia stuffing
2. Supplemental cranberry sauce with the leftover cranberries from the pies (see 8)
4. Turkey (brining and baking)
5. Green bean casserole
6. Four batches of Bourbon Yams
7. Four dozen rolls (white and wheat)
8. Apple Pie a la Zing (traditional apple pie with cranberries mixed in)
Now, the interesting part comes in when we get to the apple pies. Mom forgot to place the oh-so-important cookie sheet on the rack below the pies, and of course the pies bubbled over. This led to the smoke detector going off TWICE.
First time, as I stood using the front door as a giant fan, freezing my ass off, I realized poor Sugar (the grandmother's kitty) didn't know what to do and was trapped on the stairs, the only sound to announce his cries of distress the jingle of his St. Christopher medal. Up. Down. He was panicked into indecision.
Naturally, Boo, obsessive little freak that he is (also, this is not a rarity in our house, sending the detectors into a frenzy), saw a route of escape outside. We hadn't been able to let him outside all day because it rained off and on, plus it didn't get higher than the 40s down here. He tried to come at me straight, then he pulled this nifty zigzag (at least in his mind), heading towards the chair all casual-like, using it as cover. And finally, all out of options, went under the Christmas tree in the far corner of the room, slipping behind the couch, leaping onto the endtable, slithering under the cover of the curtains - all of this hard work I nipped in the bud before he even had a chance to pull the final TA-DA. He was most unhappy with me.
This happened both times. Fortunately for Sugar, he used the time in between the first and second alarms to scamper to parts unknown. Probably under the bed, or perhaps into Mom's closet. It has all sorts of nifty hidey-holes as well as lots of clothes to buffer the piercing scream of the alarm.
So that was my night.*
I was looking for a tablet earlier this afternoon to start a checklist for things I'll need when I move out. (Side note: checked out the apartments. Lovely old building. Lots of light. Hardwood floors. Tons and tons of security. Fabulous location. Gabs and I both adored it.) Anyway, I found this little notebook where I wrote down snippets of scenes I had planned for Home
, specifically what pushed Jess to return to Stars Hollow.
After Shelby's death, he, Nana (Shelby's grandmother, the woman who raised her after Shelby's parents' deaths - I never made this clear in the fic), and Wren lived pretty happily in the little old house in Houston. They were all grieving, but they were making it. Until Nana took ill. Years of heart disease, a couple of heart attacks, a stroke - all of it finally caught up with her. And Jess and Wren were faced, once again, with the loss of another important woman in their lives.
Another thing I found was several pages of a TristanRory fic. Tristan was an ER doc in New York where Rory was working at some new magazine, something ridiculously young and hip. During the office setup, Rory tripped and broke her elbow and was taken to Tristan's ER. This leads to flirting and the planning of a date. Come date night, Rory comes home, after another long day at the office, to find Tristan on her doorstep with wine, flowers, and a pizza on the way. As Rory has spent the last several years living a very solitary life, he is the first man to really make any headway with her. Sex soon follows and that's where my idea ended. Sex and sleep after wine and pizza. An ideal night, don't get me wrong, but I can't for the life of me remember where this story was going.*
With that, I am off to bed. We have the Christmas dinner up on Mom's unit tomorrow, and it should be pretty chaotic. They had five admits on the unit today, which puts us up to eight patients plus families. Interesting, to say the least.