I thought so. Everything had been left up to me. I had told people to come at 5 for 6 pm dinner. My mother is diabetic and has to eat at regular hours. Everything was under control. I don't know why she was in there ranting just at the point where I was really multi-tasking, making gravy, mashed potatoes and turnip. All she had to do was tell me which serving dishes she wanted (a decision I am not qualified to make) and open a bag of salad.
It is a family trait with her. Her mother was the same, and her sister is too. She would have been that way if she was trying to do it herself, but I can't figure why she feels the need to worry about it when I am doing it.
The worst is when I am working around the hot stove and she sneaks over to put something in the garbage can under the sink. Instead of waiting until the way is clear, she ducks down and scoots in behind me. The last time she did that I was turning around to pour some hot water into the sink, didn't see her and almost fell over her. Then there is the compulsion to sit or work at the end of the kitchen table in front of fridge door instead of one of the chairs on the side or the other end of the table.
The whole meal worked this time 1493
Of course, we tend to see ourselves in situations. Something tells me that Sheldon doesn't have a good relationship with his ex, that he still has the hots for her and that...
Whole birds are not a problem. Make up a stuffing, cram it in. Stick it in the oven and use the chart from the Laura Secord cookbook. It has never let me down.
I am having reheated Turkey Divan (Divine?) ... leftover leftovers. I don't want to see another turkey until next Christmas.
Looks great. I wouldn't dare show a picture of a bird that I had carved. The first few slices came off nicely, but by the time everyone had been served the thing looked like a flock of vultures had attacked it.