Tag Archives: writing

Wrist to Turkey Neck

As usual, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. It’s not that I want to add to the litany of griping about the cold, but… damn!

I am cooking the turkey I purchased yesterday, in order to run the oven and thus render my house warmer. It is working nicely and smells pretty good too. It was a bit of a process getting it into the oven, as often happens with me.

To begin with, of course I did not plan ahead and thaw the damn thing in the fridge for two or three days. I had it in cold water in my sink all yesterday afternoon and evening. I set the timer and was pretty vigilant about changing the water every half hour, so I felt safe in doing this. By ten o’clock, I thought the bird was on its way to thawdom, so put it in the fridge overnight.

This morning I discovered that it was no such thing. The center was still frozen. I still was not too worried, because yesterday, when I was consulting the marginally helpful Internet for thawing tips, I had discovered that it is not a bad thing to cook a turkey from frozen. Then I thought I had remembered that you aren’t really supposed to rinse the bird, as I have always done and indeed as the plastic wrap said to do. Back to the Internet.

OK, don’t thaw, but take the giblets and neck out. I know a friend of mine once left the giblets inside the bird, still in the little bag, because she didn’t stuff the bird and didn’t know about the giblets (it was her first turkey), so I was not too worried. But I thought the neck might better come out. It was frozen in there. Damn.

I’ll just add than when I search the Internet I usually go to a site called GoodSearch, www.goodsearch.com, because it seems they donate money to charity (should I have mentioned that when I first mentioned searching the Internet? Should I not already know that, seeing as I have been writing for many years? Oh, it IS Wrist to Forehead Sunday).

The sites I was directed to said it was OK to leave the giblets in, as long as they were not in a plastic bag. Well how was I supposed to know if they were in a plastic bag if they were still inside the turkey? Back to the bird. At last I found the giblets in the neck cavity (the irony is not lost on me that the giblets were in the neck end while the neck is stuck up the butt). Not a plastic bag, but I took them out and put them in the pan as I usually do.

I didn’t mind the neck still being in the bird, because I knew it wasn’t in a bag, but there was a plastic doodah I thought I should remove and that was stuck good. Consulting my Goodsearch sources, I was delighted to find a place where the question was not only asked, they referred to it as a “plastic thingy.” Unfortunately, the answers were contradictory.

At last I resorted to rinsing the damn turkey. After all, every other turkey I have ever cooked I have rinsed and I’m not dead of turkey poisoning yet. But how annoying, as rinsing the bird has always been my least favorite part of cooking a turkey (there is that bad moment when it feels like a body, which in fact it is, but I prefer to gloss over my own carnivorousness). And the neck still would not come out.

Finally I said to hell with it and put the turkey in the oven, which by now was plenty pre-heated (although some sources say that if you are cooking something for more than an hour you do not have to pre-heat the oven. I must say the last thing I felt like at that point was to write a blog post about the ordeal. However, that was three hours ago, and now that I have actually written the blog post, I feel much better about everything.

Better to Have Lame and Lost?

Lame Post Friday is meant to be lame. Don’t hate, don’t judge.

I spent my breaks at work today writing my play (the one I mentioned yesterday). I went back to work with a glowing feeling of I LOVE TO WRITE. What are those writers thinking, the ones who say, “Oh, I hate to write but I love to have written.” Yeah, yeah, to have written is nice, but I LOVE TO WRITE (sorry, must put it all in caps).

Of course some days I love it more than others. Which makes me think of running. I love to run. I love the physical act, I love looking around at the scenery while I do it, I love the way it makes me feel. Most of the time. Other times, I do not feel good when I do it AT ALL. Those are the days when at least I am glad to have run. In other words, I shall not judge the other writers (nor hate on them; see first paragraph).

It is beastly cold in the Mohawk Valley today. I think I have written other posts about my brain freezing up when it is very cold. Much like it melts in extreme heat. This Mohawk Valley Girl requires moderate temperatures in which to write, or at least in which to write anything good.

Which, I suppose, explains this blog post. All I can do is say again, don’t hate, don’t judge. Hope to see you on Scattered Saturday.

At Least I Got My Plot

It’s all about the bananas.

I mostly said that to get your attention. I had been about to lead off with how I did not write today’s post while at work (yes, yes, on breaks), because I was writing a play. I thought it might be fun to tell you why I am writing a play.

In the play I was just in at Ilion Little Theatre (yes, still talking about that), we had a lot of laughs. One cast member was especially determined to be silly, Andy Vogel, who portrayed Constable Goddard (I feel free to use his name, because it appeared in the newspaper and on the program after all). During one rehearsal, I, or rather my character, turned around to say something to Goddard, and there was Andy, eating a banana.

“Why were you eating a banana?” I asked him after the rehearsal.

“I thought it would be funny.”

OK, it was funny. I don’t mind an occasional joke of that nature during the rehearsal process. It can break up tension or help you practice concentration. During performance? Oh hell no! I lived in fear. Then I had an idea. I told Andy if he pulled no shenanigans during performances, I would write a play for him with lots of bananas. He was delighted at the notion.

So that is what I am doing. At first I confess I spent hours looking for an idea. I would get one, realize it did not quite fit my needs, get another one, not like it at all… you know how it goes.

To tell you more would give away more of the plot than I want to talk about at this point. If a writer talks too much about what she is writing, sometimes she doesn’t want to write it any more. In fact, already I’ve said too much.

In any case, that is my post about Why I Did Not Write a Post Today. For a Non-Sequitur Thursday, I think it will do.

Mmmmm… Sourdough

Ever since I moved to Herkimer, I like to bring Heidelberg bread to dinners and family gatherings. When I saw that people were bring real dinner items to the cast party of Busybody (I bet you thought I was done talking about that play. Fooled ya!), I signed up to bring the bread.

The play closed on Sunday the 8th, with cast party to almost immediately follow. Accordingly, on Saturday morning I headed out Route 28. I figured as long as I was going, I might as well have breakfast at the cafe. I did not know how crowded it would be so was pleased I could easily get a parking space.

Now where to sit? I started to sit at a table for four (the smallest available at the time) but changed my mind and moved to the counter. Sometime I would like to come in with a crowd and sit at the booth with a church pew for a bench. The counter had the added advantage that I could easily see all the baked goodies and decide which to purchase when I got my bread. I just love a treat.

I ordered poached eggs with sourdough toast. I was so pleased the sourdough was available. It is my absolute favorite, and they don’t always have it. As I sipped my coffee (well of course I got coffee! Did I even have to mention that?) and waited for my food, I worked on a letter to a friend. It is one of the joys of my existence to sit at an eatery and write a letter, blog post, novel, whatever. Hemingway did it in Paris. I do it in the Mohawk Valley.

Two men stood in front of me talking while a little girl holding a bakery box stood with varying degrees of patience.

“I’d have eaten whatever was in that box by now,” I told her after a while. That is why I did not purchase my baked goodies before ordering breakfast.

When the waitress refilled my coffee I asked her what kind it was. Paul de Lima from Liverpool, NY. I have a sister who lives in Liverpool. I wonder if she can get me some.

Along with my bread I chose a couple of tea cookies and a raspberry/cheese danish for Steven’s and my treat. The bread was a hit at the party, but not so big a hit that I did not bring any home. This was good news for me, because I was a little sorry that I had not gotten two loaves.

Heidelberg Cafe and Bakery is located at 3056 St. Rt. 28, Herkimer, NY, phone number 315-866-0999. For more information, visit their website at http://www.heidelbergbread.com/ or Like their Facebook page.

No Momentum Monday

Earlier today I had a few lovely moments of I Can SO Write! Unfortunately it did not last long enough for me to also write my blog post. However, I did say I was going to need today for recovery from the play I was in that ended yesterday (if you are just tuning in and did not hear about the play, just look back at the last few weeks of posts. I’m sure I mentioned it). Moreover, it is Middle-aged Musings Monday. I’ll just come up with something reflective and drive on.

If only I had something to, you know, reflect upon. Right now I am mostly wondering why my bout of Can So Write did not last longer. What is it with momentum? Sometimes you got it, sometimes you don’t.

Oh, I can just hear that pesky inner critic now: “Nobody “gots” momentum. You CREATE momentum by doing whatever it is you want to, you know, moment.” (He pronounces “moment” with the second syllable accented.) Really, that is pretty good advice. I bet it was not the inner critic who said it; he’s never that helpful.

So what I needed to do was to keep writing till I got some of that there momentum. Now I think of it. In my defense, I’m tired. It is a cold winter day and I am not a young woman. Judge me if you want for my lack of momentum. I’m sure my inner critic will agree. I’m signing off till Tired Tuesday.

The Last Pre-Show Post

Under the best of circumstances I often have a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Today I do not have the best of circumstances. I have pretty damn good circumstances, I will admit. But they are not ideal for writing a wonderful blog post. For this I have my dithery self to blame (the computer seems to think “dithery” is not a word, but I believe it describes me accurately).

At 2 p.m. begins the closing performance of Busybody, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre. It’s always bittersweet when a play ends. How could it not be? For better or worse, this script and these people have been a huge part of your life for, in this case, over two months. For “Busybody” it has been for better. Delightful cast, humorous script, wonderful audiences, great director and awesome light/sound guy.

And I will admit, it is not just my appreciation of the others involved. It is my own petty ego gratification, because I have a big part and, dammit, I am doing a good job. OK, not a perfect job. Last night there was a (to me) painful pause in which I suddenly remembered that the next line was mine.

“Ow, I know!” I burst out, in my Cockney accent (that’s why it’s “Ow” instead of “Oh”), pretending that my character had just now had a clever thought. The moment passed. Nobody seemed to care.

Lame Post Friday is the day for half-baked philosophy, or I would ask myself why it is I feel quite sheepish in saying, “I’m doing a good job.” Can I not appreciate my own success? I think I have been pretty clear that it is part of a group effort and not my own wonderfulness carrying along everyone else willy-nilly. These are questions for another day.

For now I will continue to dither and panic (well, maybe not panic, but certainly get butterflies) about getting to the theatre, remembering props and costumes, not to mention lines. Oh yes, and once again I’ve forgotten to eat. That I can fix. Have a nice Sunday, everyone. I’m off to break a couple of legs.

Another Scattered Saturday

I said last week that I thought Saturday Misadventures ought to become a feature, but on reflection, I think Scattered Saturday would be better. Two Saturdays ago I had a Scattered Saturday and I thought it made a pretty good blog post (although perhaps I flatter myself). At that time I was preparing for the busy, stressful week of Production Week for the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre. At this time I am preparing for that play’s penultimate performance (love that word, penultimate). Next Saturday I will probably remain scattered merely because it is in my nature to do so.

Yesterday I said I planned to have a Mohawk Valley adventure without having a Mohawk Valley adventure planned. I woke up with morning with a plan. Yay me. Naturally I had coffee with my husband before implementing the plan.

The weather cooperated by being not too frigid, since the first part of my plan involved walking to the post office with my nice dog, Tabby. I had written my usual postcards. I love to write postcards. A light snow was falling, but the breeze was not bad. My thermometer said 23 degrees, which sounded about right. I could rock 23 degrees, I told myself. I could even run in 23 degrees, if I so chose. I thought with a play this evening a walk would be better. Tabby liked it, too.

Next I went to Heidelberg Bakery for breakfast (full blog post to follow). Then I went consignment store shopping (again, full blog posts to be written). I hit Cornerstone Consignments in Ilion, NY, and Gypsy’s Closet and Valley Exchange in Herkimer. Then I was tired, so I went home. Must recruit my energies, after all.

I guess Scattered Saturdays are actually Previews of Coming Attractions. With the play closing tomorrow afternoon, I may actually have time to write them. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Not Writer’s Block

It is not Writer’s Block. It is not Writer’s Blank. It is not Writer’s Anything! It is I Can’t Write Anymore!

I suppose I just proved myself wrong with that last paragraph, because, you know, I wrote it. But perhaps I have proven myself right with some of my previous posts (Only SOME? the inner critic carps).

That is what I wrote while at work today. And there did not seem to be much more to say. Then I came home, got on the computer, and read the nice comments on yesterday’s Wuss-out Wednesday post. Surely I was selling myself short and I could write a much better post. I WOULD write a better post! But I did not.

What I did instead was to go upstairs, get on the desktop (I’m on my little ACER now) and type in what I had written previously for an article to submit to Mohawk Valley Living magazine. It is about the play I keep using as an excuse or more accurately the reason for my skimpy posts. I did not just type in what I wrote. I re-wrote the lead, I rearranged the paragraphs, I edited what was there, I added more stuff.

Yeah! I WROTE!

So this is my Non-Sequitur Thursday post about writing. It was going to be a post about not writing, but then I wrote. I feel not displeased with myself. I hope to see you all on Lame Post Friday.

Pick-up on a Wednesday Night

I did try to avoid a Wuss-out Wednesday, I really did. I bet some readers don’t believe me. Well, I’m sorry. I think I just have to realize I’m going to have a bad proportion of ridiculous posts till this play is over.

We had our pick-up rehearsal tonight. Pick-up rehearsals are usually fun, because you don’t put on costumes or act full-out. For the pick-up rehearsal for Harvey, we just sat in the lobby of the theatre and said our lines. Tonight we were on the stage and did all the usual movements, and some acting. Some lines we just kind of said, then moved on. A couple of times we didn’t say the right lines (I say it with a sheepish smile).

I wanted to make my blog post before rehearsal. In fact, I wanted to write it at work. I think I wrote two sentences. Oh wait, one sentence (I just checked). Then I felt I should study my lines. And (full disclosure) I worked on a cryptogram puzzle (don’t judge). I had some time before rehearsal, but I sat in front of a blank screen with a little voice in my head screaming, “I CAN’T do this!”

Now I’m sitting here, typing away, and realizing I still don’t have much to say. That’s why this is Wuss-out Wednesday. I’m going to stop typing now and see what tomorrow will bring.

In My Defense, It’s Cold!

Here’s a new feature: Saturday Misadventures. It is for those numerous Saturdays when I do not have Saturday Running Commentary but instead type down a few paragraphs of what I did instead of write a good blog post.

When we got up this morning it was one degree out according to our thermostat. I don’t know where it gets this information; the thermostat came with the new furnace. I would get one of those jobs with the big numbers to hang on the garage like my parents have, but I don’t have a window handy for looking out at the garage. If I’m going to open the door anyways, what do I need a thermometer for?

Come to think of it, I did open the door, to get the newspaper (LOVE my newspaper deliverers!). Yikes! I made sure to replace the doodads under our door meant to keep the draft out (with indifferent success). Still, it was above zero. What could I possibly complain about? Got you there: I am not complaining, I am OBSERVING!

I wrote some postcards, but a walk to the post office was clearly ineligible. I know my dog would eagerly jump and bark if I picked up the leash, but I do not want a frostbitten little pooch. I’ve been limiting her outdoor activity to short business meetings in the back yard.

Still, I could not stay home under the blankets as was my inclination. I had to put air in one tire and I had to gas up. And I had to leave my vehicle in the street, because I leave for the theatre after Steven gets home tonight. I’m in a play, remember (see yesterday’s post, among others). As the temperature rose to 2 degrees, my hopes rose proportionately.

As it turns out, for no good reason. I did not do anything blogworthy. And my brain is too frozen to remember any of the blogworthy things I did previously but have not written about yet. I feel properly ashamed of myself, but I must not repine. I have a show to put on later.

Hope to see you on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.