My mom is braver than me

Lately I've been thinking how the generation of women before mine seems to be so much more courageous than we are. On Sunday, I got more proof of that! Remember how I roasted a chicken?

It was the first time I have cooked a whole bird. Violet was sleeping and Glenn was still at church when I got started. I have read how to roast a bird a thousand times, so I knew there would be some scary stuff in the cavity, but I still almost jumped out of my skin when the liver poked out the chicken's bum. Oh my goodness, that was the scariest thing I have ever seen! I was too scared to touch it, so I just shook the chicken until most the stuff had fallen out. There was one pesky innard that would not come out, so I did have to reach my hand in there eventually. Here's the thing: it was traumatizing. And my mom, and your mom, and every mom ever do this every year on Thanksgiving and never mention how scary it is!

Anyway, the next part wasn't so bad. After I rinsed the chicken, I smeared butter all over the skin, salted it, and put it in the oven. It smelled so good cooking!

We had a lot of chicken left over (the smallest bird they had at the store was 5.5 lbs, which is way to much for two people) and some squash left over. For lunch yesterday, I made some delicious curry with the left overs! Yum!