Well, the image is just that. An image.
For many, many years, I have roasted a turkey for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Seems to me I managed to mess it up in as many years.
At least, I think, there will be a Christmas dinner. It will be perfect this year. It better be. Friends and family are joining us.
Okay. So now the roasted turkey is ready. Friends and family are gathered around the dining table buzzing with excitement over this most extravagant meal on this most exciting day.
I’m in a hurry...last minute herbal additions to the gravy to raise it to the gourmet level...then heat it up again…
OMG! The hot pot slips from my hand. Said pot spills gravy. I watch horrified---suspended in a time warp---as a slimy, brown, murky, hot viscous liquid mercilessly slithers like a prehistoric reptile across the tiles on my kitchen floor. I’m about to scream but I hear the peaceful strains of “Silent Night” in the background.
I stand there. Defeated. I hear ripples of anticipation from buzzing dinner guests awaiting the anointed bird and its accoutrements.
Christmas magic?! I don’t think so!