I decided to cook a turkey this year because it has been YEARS since I cooked a turkey. I am supposedly the only person in the family that likes turkey (or so I’ve been told), so we never have it. I decided that if I’m going to spend hours and hours cooking, I wanted to have something that I like for a change. Once every 20 years isn’t too selfish of me, is it? The tea-brined turkey draped in sprigs of rosemary cooked in an oven bag was consumed down to the skeleton. Just little teensy pieces of white meat were left, and one of the grandson was picking the bones for those pieces later. Heh. Maybe I’m NOT the only one that likes turkey after all! There is a pie crust under the table. I wonder where THAT came from? No, I don’t! Littlest grandson was conducting a bombing raid with my bottles of sprinkles, and they are under the table, too. All in all, I think everybody had a good Christmas. At least they ate well!