Last Thursday was Thanksgiving in the good old USA. As usual, I skipped the celebrations and did not head home. Mainly because I hate turkey and even more than that I hate watching college football. But also because the flight is 12 hours and who can really be bothered.
Well, one person could be bothered to keep the tradition alive over here in Londontown and that person is Arlie. What a good girl she is. She invited 8 of our closest friends over to celebrate Thanksturkey day with us on Saturday at the casa. I invited 0. Yes, we know I am a stooge about holiday cheerfulness. Bah turkey.
She even ordered up a mean ass looking turkey that was stuffed and covered in bacon (bacon tastes good, pork chops taste good). The menu was set and at 10 am she was off cooking. The apple pie was done from the evening before. It was just like old Mama Fujie on Thanksgiving day. The house was filling with wonderful smells and it felt all nice and cozy.
non-kosher turkey
Around 2 pm Helen, our first guest, showed up with wine in tow and things were looking pretty damned cheerful.
And then it happened.
Why does something like this only happen if you are having Thanksgiving/Christmas dinner?
The power went out.
Dead.
We thought that the overly cheery vibe in the house (coupled with the power that the oven was using) might have caused the blackout. After further investigation, flipping switches, listening to our super complex fire system beeping and more flipping switches we were left stumped.
The next guess would be that we had forgotten to pay the electricity bill. Which might be true except for the fact that we have never paid an electricity bill since we moved in April. Both Arlie and I under the (really naive if not completley stupid) assumption that the pub pays our electricity bill. This was also not the case.
Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and did what any normal person does when there is a 14 pound turkey in the middle of cooking in the oven and the power goes out, I went upstairs to take a bubble bath while we still had hot water from the boiler. This strategy of denial probably didn’t please Chef Arlie much as she continued to investigate the issue at hand.
even paul was stumped about the electricity
Turns out that there was a “fault” somewhere in our grid (but not at the pub downstairs?) and it would be fixed in a “few” hours. Great.
It was around this time that everyone else showed up for the party/possible not party. We all made do by sitting around contemplating the future of our bird. Should we cut it up and BBQ it? Should we leave it? Are we all going to die from salmonella? Should we just go to the pub and get drunk?
And in the middle of this chatter and chaos Arlie got up — and realised that the lights in the kitchen were on.
Power restored. Bird survival.
And then they ate. And drank. And played trivial pursuit until the breaka breaka dawn where the girls won against the boys because we are obviously smarter than them.
Thanksturkey day was saved!