A Dumped Post - A Real Turkey

This post was originally titled, So What Scares You.

If you are on a return visit (not many do that, so thank you), you just may be wondering about the post which used to occupy this space. You may also be wondering if it was ever here and that you either dreamed it or saw it someplace else.

Well, wonder no more. The post did exist and it is gone. It's blasted, although not completely out of existence. It has been relegated to the Archives where, in time, it will become lost forever with other other banished pieces of wit and thought.

It wasn't what I really wanted to say, and it wasn't written at all in the way I wanted to write it. Within minutes of posting it I was tempted to rush back to the computer and dump it. It was granted a short reprieve because I was under the weather on Sunday and didn't have the energy to move again. (I think this is how I came to write it in the first place.) Every year I forget which brand of turkey is the only one which doesn't make me sick. I don't know why it makes a difference, but it does.

There are two big brands around here: Butterball and Jennie-O. There are others, too, but those are the two I remember. When we have one, I get sick. When we have the other, I don't. And guess what? I don't know which is which. You would think that someone as supposedly smart as me would pay attention and learn. Write it down maybe? But no. Either Spouse or I remove the plastic casing which reveals the offending name and toss it into the garbage. So I don't know which brand we got this year. (I wonder if the fact that this year's bird was free. It may have been an old bird.)

Anyway, I was all right on Christmas Day, but I didn't eat much turkey. I stuffed myself on mashed potatoes. I love mashed potatoes. (But NOT with sour cream. That sucks. Sour cream makes makes me sick. And none of those awful onion flakes either. Just nice mashed potatoes made with milk. Lumps are acceptable.) I had a couple of sandwiches on Friday. No problem. Then came Saturday, Big Leftover Day. I was sick for twenty-four hours. Over it now. At first I thought the turkey really had gone bad, but Spouse was as chipper as ever. Well, chipper is not a usual word to describe Spouse. Let's use happy and pleasant.

I didn't get sick last year, but then last year we bought our turkey. Sitting here now, I'm thinking it's the Jennie-O I can eat and the Butterball that makes me sick. Or is it the other way around? No matter. I've got an entire year to figure it out.

Regarding the previous post, So What Scares You, I think I know the answer now. Reading my ramblings of culinary delights and misfortunes with the ensuing digestive consequences. Frightening!