As if it’s not enough that we’re happily-unmarried and building a house together, we had to go and ruin those nice wholesome Thanksgiving sit-down diners with deep-fried turkey and a cooler full of beer in a parking lot.

I like to pretend MysteryMan looks shocked because he’s got such a crazy nice, sweet girl next to him, but let’s be honest, he’s really just surprised he hasn’t coshed me over the head with a shovel and buried me in the back yard yet.

Me too, dude.

So we took a break from the house-building activities to do what we’ve done on Thanksgiving for the last four years… tailgate at the Lions game.

And every year for the last four years there’s a big debate about which end of the turkey gets the hook.

This year our Chief Electrician pretended to be the turkey to better illustrate which end was the butt.

Listen, we can build a house from the ground up, but this poultry anatomy shit is complicated.

I’m pretty sure we did it backwards, but the bird still tasted good.

I don’t really like turkey as a general rule, but we brine this thing for 36 hours and then deep-fry it. You’ve never tasted anything like it, unless you’ve had my hand-breaded deep-fried chicken chunks, which are the second best tailgating food ever.

And just when our toes get numb and the cooler gets empty, it’s in to Ford Field for the game. (Kid Rock halftime show this year? Not bad at all.)

I can’t say enough for flouting white-picket-fence traditions on Turkey Day and starting one of our own. And if we keep this up long enough we might get to actually see the Lion’s win a game.

Here’s to wishful thinking!

MysteryMan and I decided we are, in effect, skipping the holidays this year. Normally Christmas– and Christmas decorating– is my fave, but with one house  for sale, and being in a huge rush to finish projects at the other house before the weather gets extra foul (it was 25 degrees this morning), not to mention the fact that except for those 12 hours of tailgating on Thanksgiving I’ve spent the rest of this holiday weekend working… the idea of having to string Christmas lights on anything for the next 6 months gives me a twitch in my left eye. But next year? The first Christmas in our new old house? Watch out people.

Non-traditional Traditions

For me, being a non-traditionalist isn’t so much about being “different” as it is about keeping myself primed for new ideas and ways of doing things without having to get over that barrier of “that’s cool, but this isn’t the way things are done” every time I feel like trying something different.

Like, did you know that instead of getting up at 5AM on Thanksgiving morning to put a turkey in the oven, you can get up at 5AM on Thanksgiving morning to drink beer instead? Yeah, I know. The first time I hear that I was all, what?! No.

But seriously, there are no Thanksgiving police.

It took me a year (and one very hectic day where we tried to see 3 families and eat 3 turkeys in 12 hours) to consider that maybe it didn’t have to be all sit-down-with-the-fam, and could be a bit more watch-the-sun-rise-over-tailgating-campers.

But it only took once to convince me (and another year to convince my mom) that this was the Thanksgiving tradition MysterMan and I would keep with our family.

Brining a bird and deep-frying it? It only takes 3 minutes per pound, and you’ve never tasted anything like it.

We did forget beer cozies this year, so it’s a good thing I’ve been watching the Season 1 DVD of MacGyver with MysteryMan.

The football part went about as well as you’d expect…

With commentary via text from my dad.

But… maybe by the time we have kids who are old enough to understand football the Lions will be able to play without embarrassing us.

The Giving Part

It’s about that time of year where we all start giving for the tax deductions out of the kindness of out hearts, and I’ve stumbled across some charities you might want to take a look at:

At the game we talked to the good people of 31stadiums.com, who are traveling 30,000 miles this season in an RV to see every NFL stadium and raise funds for the Cpt. Joe F. Lusk II Memorial Fund.

While training in Fort Rucker, AL, friends Nathan Thompson and Joe Lusk discussed how amazing it would be to travel the nation in an RV watching football. Unfortunately, before this was a possibility, Joe lost his life in Kuwait when his Apache helicopter crashed during a training mission. In memory of Joe, Nate is continuing with the dream while planning to raise money for a memorial fund setup in Joe’s name.

Seems like they had a good time in the Motor City, and I’m always in favor of supporting our troops. Interested? Here’s more information on donating.

You can basically divide my sympathies into two categories: Military, and animals.

Like this little guy?

He’s from the M’Shoogy’s Emergency Animal Shelter and No-Kill Sanctuary in Missouri, and he needs your help.

This family has taken in thousands of animals both wild and domestic and works hard to rehabilitate them and release them back into the wild, or find homes for the adoptable types.

Here’s more information on donating if you just can’t resist those little raccoon eyes.

Particularly since we’ve had a little scandal here in Toledo about the dog warden killing off puppies without trying to adopt them first– and really, what kind of person do you have to be to go above and beyond the norm to kill extra puppies?– I’m a huge proponent of donating to no-kill shelters.

For you Toledoans, check out:

The Paws and Whiskers No-Kill Cat Shelter

Natures Nursery Wildlife Rehabilitation Center

Yes. Despite all the powertool badassery, I hug trees and I love animals. What’s the problem?

Just For Laughs

Did I not give you enough stuff to click on yet today? Here are some people who have been making me laugh lately.

Sara over at Russet Street Reno – She’s doing all the stuff on her house that I wish I was doing on my house instead of working my ass off and waiting for the ground to thaw. (Oddly, it hasn’t even frozen yet.) Also, we’re both finalists in the Old House Web blogger contests, and let me just go on record and say that $250 gift certificate is enticing, but I really think you should vote for her. (She’s kicking my ass anyway, and seriously… my post is on crown molding that may or may not still be installed upside down.)

Domestic Episodes of a Rodeo Princess – Rodeo is one of the Grit bloggers, which is one of my favorite places to go and get a glimpse into my future life. Like this…

The two boys and Charles got the pig to go up a small incline. I was at the bottom. Someone screamed, “BLOCK HIM!” I bent at the waist , flexed my knees and prepared to block. A 250-pound pig running at about 20 miles an hour down a hill.

He caught me square at my flexed knees. The force of the impact knocked my glasses off and parted my knees as he was propelled forward. As though we had practiced for months, I slid over his pointy, wet head to a perfect, although backwards, seat on his back and was carried off across the lawn.

My first thought was: I can’t see where I am going.

Second thought was: OH MY GOD I AM RIDING A PIG, AND I AM GOING TO DIE!

Third thought: I am only 18 inches off the ground. No way am I going to die.

I know MysteryMan just read that and rolled his eyes, because yes, that is SO ME in five years (except for the grandmother part.) See how the story ends.

Now all this talk about country living and renovation makes me want to shirk my responsibilities and go hang some trim up at the Memorial House. And you know what? I think I’m gonna, right after I eat some leftover pecan pie for lunch.

God, some days I really love being a grown up.

You know me… I like to flout tradition whenever possible. And so, like last year, MysteryMan and I opted out of a china-and-crystal thanksgiving and instead packed up the deep-fryer, some folding chairs, and my mother, and headed up to the Lion’s game on Thursday.

Of course, I wasn’t completely willing to give up the tradition of gorging myself on Thanksgiving food… which is why we brought Herbert.

Who’d been chillin’ in an apple-rosemary brine for a day.

Then the little women got to sit around the heater while these intelligent handsome young men tried to figure out which end of the turkey was its butt.

“You want me to stick this… where?!”

The butt goes up guys. That is not the butt.

Ahh, there’s the butt.

And then…

MysteryMan disappeared behind a cloud of smoke and I returned my full attention to my bloody mary.

Then we proceded to watch the men put together the very sophisticated game of golf. Because our level of tailgating class peaks at games made from golf balls and PVC pipe.

Unlike the ten-year-old to our left who seriously exceeded our maturity and IQ levels.

We hardly had time to be properly shamed because our feast was ready.

Well, helloHerbert, you look delish…

My mom demonstrates proper technique when eating turkey with your fingers… pinkys out kids!

And the less dainty approach… while weilding a bigass knife mind.

Go for it girl.

Don’t worry, the feast didn’t stop there. No Thanksgiving would be complete without fresh cut french fries and mini-apple pies.

The only way this Thanksgiving could have gotten any classier (according to my mom) was if we toasted each other with our dixie cups…

Oh wait. We did.

Here’s to the classiest Thanksgiving ever!

(And to the Lions awesome 0-12 season. Here’s to making history and getting your asses handed to you by Tennessee guys.)

 Possibly Related Posts:

The best thanksgiving I’ve had thus far started with MysteryMan dragging my butt out of bed a five-thirty AM. Yeah, you heard me A.M.

Because when you want to tailgate with the big kids, apparently that’s what you gotta do.

 But crap if we didn’t have turkey:

And beer:

And football:

And… dude, no sleeping during football!

(The irony is about 3 seconds after I took that picture, I fell asleep and stayed that way through the whole 3rd quarter. So sue me. 5:45 AM is not my ideal wake-up time.)

Check out the whole photoset here.