Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2004-11-24 - 9:34 p.m.

Random Thoughts Before Bed

If I were a turkey breeder, I would breed a turkey that was not much more than a huge enormous ribcage, with two big legs attached. Stuffing, people! That would be a useful turkey. Not so much of that white meat 'cos who really eats white meat? Two major drumsticks and room for eighteen pounds of stuffing. I would so buy that.

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I danced with my father tonight. To a John Denver song. He didn't know the words but he sang some words anyway, and he danced with me. That makes two times in my life I have danced with my father, the other being my wedding sixteen years ago.

And that's all I have to say about that.

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I am making a jello cranberry mold to be part of dinner tomorrow. I don't know what possessed me. I don't like jello molds. My mother brought me up that people who made jello molds were of dubious social standing. (Don't write to me, it was HER belief.)

I have several perfectly respectable recipes for cranberry sauces and one absolutely killer rescipe for cranberry chutney-to-die-for, and yet I am making a jello cranberry mold involving canned pineapple and cream cheese.

I know there's a reason, but for the moment I'm just going with the impulse.

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I want a guinea pig. No, I mean it. I met a fine one the other day. His name is Einstein. Well, he doesn't really have a name, but if he came home with us he would be Einstein and we could hold him and give him apple slices. Calmer heads are prevailing for the moment; I have nowhere to PUT a guinea pig.

It may be related to the jello mold insanity.

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My children are going to the snow for Thanksgiving. They have with them an odd asortment of bought and borrowed warmwear, inner and outer. None of it is stylish. I suspect they will not want to wear it. They have not been to the snow in a long time. They will go out and play without the warm wear, and in fifteen minutes they will come in and put it all on so they can go back out.

I hope their father is smart enough not to argue with them over it. It's not hard to discover on your own that you DO need thermals and gloves and wool socks and a parka. It IS hard to be told what to do. When you're eleven. Or fourteen.

Actually, it wasn't all that easy when I was thirty-five, either.

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What are the early symptoms of Mad Cow Disease? Do they have anything to do with guinea pigs? Or jello?

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