Attack of the Giant Mutant Barnyard Fowl

I have to say, thankfulness was not my first emotion when Mom informed me she’d ordered a turducken for me to cook for her sixtieth birthday celebration. I have difficulties eating, handling, and even thinking about meat. No one understands this, least of all me.

A chicken stuffed inside a duck that is stuffed inside a turkey sounded like a monster from a horror film in my opinion. I pictured a giant, featherless mutant bird stomping down a deserted city street, flapping its naked wings while I desperately tried to get away. Needless to say, I had more than one nightmare about the whole thing.

When the turducken arrived last Friday, it looked innocuous enough in a vacuum-sealed cooler plopped on my doorstep by the FedEx guy. I was all for leaving it in the neat packaging, but since I was supposed to cook it the next day, I knew I’d have to lift the sarcophagus lid and remove and defrost the mummy within.

Having cooked a Thanksgiving turkey before, I knew what I might be facing: raw, yellowish skin, that horrible, gaping cavity, the disgusting stuff they put back in the cavity, maybe a feather or two.

Excuse me, I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Ok, back to the turducken. It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as a turkey. You see, turduckens come already assembled. I assume the folks who do this are pitiable inhabitants of a mental institution. After all, if you told me I had to stuff a chicken inside a duck then stuff that duck inside a turkey, I’d kill you and then plead insanity.

Thankfully, the only drastic measure necessary for our turducken was an extra-long ice water bath. The next day, Mom’s birthday, all I had to do was unwrap the thing, put it in a roasting pan, and stick it in the oven.

Here’s proof that I did it.


It came out so well, I didn’t even have time for a picture of the finished product before it was eaten. A few of Mom’s birthday guests volunteered to let me take a picture of their full tummies, but I told them that was just weird.

We had a wonderful celebration but never managed to agree on exactly how the chicken came to be inside a duck that ended up in a turkey. Here are a few of our theories:

1. Time-travel
2. Alien abduction
3. Genetic engineering
4. “Beam me up, Scottie” gone terribly wrong
5. Splinching, similar to #4 but with a Harry Potter twist. After all, if Ron Weasley can’t apparate, then how can we expect dim-witted barnyard fowl to do it?
6. “A turkey, a duck, and a chicken walk into a bar…”

If you have any ideas of your own, please share. Let’s remember to keep it PG, shall we?

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving!

Christmas: The Joy of Giving, Celebrating, and Doing Time

My mom is going to jail! Apparently, she's been found guilty of being big-hearted and will be locked up for GOOD next week. You can help post her bail AND help kids with muscular dystrophy by donating at the following site.

MDA Lock-Up

After you've done something good for someone else, then it's time to do something good for yourself.

To celebrate the release of Mom's Christmas novella, Two Tickets to the Christmas Ball, Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group is sponsoring an awesome contest. The winner gets two tickets to the Glen Eyrie Castle Christmas Madrigal Banquet plus airfare to Colorado Springs, plus two copies of Two Tickets to the Christmas Ball!

How cool is that?!

Kory and I have been to the Madrigal Banquet, and it is truly a unique and wonderful experience. Most guests wear formal attire, but since this is Colorado a few misinformed cowboys might show up in jeans. Be nice to them. They didn't get the memo.

Here's how the Glen Eyrie site describes the evening:


The Glen Eyrie Christmas Madrigal is a gourmet 5 course meal surrounded by all the glorious pomp and circumstance you can imagine, reminiscent of a bygone era!

Be greeted with complimentary valet at the entrance to the Castle, warm by the fire with a cup of wassail, immerse yourself in the joyous festivities of a Renaissance Castle Christmas where you will enjoy a variety of song and dance, musical instruments and tales presented by the Lord and Lady of the Manor.

Be treated like royalty in an unforgettable night!

If you'd like to enter the contest (I sure wish I could), go to the following link and scroll down until you see Two Tickets Sweepstakes.

Waterbrook Multnomah Contests and Giveaways

Oh, and donate and enter today. Mom's scheduled to be arrested November 18th, and the Two Tickets Sweepstakes deadline is November 17th! That's next week, people!

Things You Shouldn’t Do After Eye Surgery

Ok, it wasn’t exactly eye surgery, but a week ago I had a mole removed from my eyelid. Since it was so near my tear duct, I went to an ocular-plastic surgeon for the procedure. He was a nice guy and did a great job, but I thought it was sort of strange that he numbed my eyeball with drops and gave me the first of several shots before asking me to sign a waiver. I’m pretty sure my signature looked like it was written by a second-grader on a sugar high.

The procedure was quick and painless, aside from the numbing shots. When he was done, I asked, “How bad does it look? Is it really gross?”

He laughed. “No, not at all. Here, I’ll show you.”

He held a mirror up to my face, and even half-blind I could see the bloody hole in my eyelid. So I asked him, “What is your definition of gross? Because this is mine.”

He insisted that I did not need an eye patch despite my argument that it would get me cool points with my boys. So I put my sunglasses on and stumbled out to the waiting room where my Mom waited to drive me home. And here begins my list of things you should not do after having eye surgery:

1. Drive. The doctor warned me about this one, so I brought Mom along to help. He did not warn me about the next thing on the list.
2. Walk. We had to stop at Walgreens for my prescription. At this point I could see out of both eyes, but I didn’t know my depth perception was off. I walked into the car in the parking space beside us.
3. Read, upside down, in the dark, to 25 third-graders. Yeah, perhaps I shouldn’t have volunteered to read scary stories for the fall party the day after my surgery.
4. Stare at the laptop screen.
5. Watch TV.
6. Wear eyeliner.
7. Light jack-o-lanterns.
8. Gaze romantically into husband’s eyes. “Ew, honey! Your eye is oozing.”
9. Do anything that makes you cry, including chopping onions, paying bills, and watching Toy Story 3.
10. Eat Thai food.

You’ll be happy to know that, a week later, I’m nearly healed. I still wish I’d gotten that eye patch though.