What a bloody farce. I returned from my seminar to find the kitchen knee-deep in poorly defrosted raw turkey. Apparently, it's for thanksgiving. We have an American student with us, so we are all celebrating it this year, but the girls who were trying to prepare the turkeys were a little squeamish. All, that is, except for L, "The Butcher", who was really getting into things. It looked like the Somme, but with marginally less mud.
I just went around pouring boiling water on everything to assuage the collective salmonella paranoia. A day in the life of our kitchen, and that's before we've even eaten and created the inevitable Everest of washing up. If I'd wanted massacres and mountaineering, I would have joined the Outdoor Society.
B.
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