I am all fingers this morning. I had decided to write a post using the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day, but after three shamefully ineffective attempts to cut and paste the bits I needed I decided that giving up that idea was better than throwing a cup of coffee at the wall.
I woke up this morning with a start---maybe that's why my fingers are in a state of rebellion. The "start" was caused by the realization that we haven't yet bought our turkey and if we did we'd have nowhere to put it. I'm afraid we may come to the place where we zip into Loblaw's at 10 to 6 on Saturday night to buy a fresh turkey which can languish on the patio until it's time for it to go into the oven. There are many advantages to a small condo, but turkey-management isn't one of them. We have room in the freezer for frozen spinach, raspberries, pizza, raisin bread and ice, but not for turkey; we have room in the fridge for 3 kinds of milk, OJ and various juices, a box of wine, some veggies and way too many bottles of jam, but not for turkey.
Oh well, it's better than the year we had 3 turkeys.