“If Darlene can do it, surely I can,” I told myself last week. I was recalling a time I dropped in at my church to find a pair of legs peeking out from under an open lower cabinet door in the kitchen. I came closer and saw our octogenarian, unofficial, in-charge-of-church-kitchen woman halfway under the sink with the elbow in her hands. “What are you doing?” I exclaimed in my most surprised voice. “Cleaning out the drain,” she replied. “It has to be done every year.”
I’d never cleaned a drain in my life. Not even when I lost a contact lens. My husband was always there to bail me out.
So that was one thing I told myself last week. More about that later. The other thing is my kids’ fault.
Last November, my daughter and I got a free turkey from a vendor show I was at with her. She didn’t need or want it, so she eventually foisted it on me. Here in AZ. When she drove my car out here for me, she took the frozen bird along, hauling it into a hotel each night to add ice. When my son came a few weeks later he informed me that no way did they want the bird.
The poor bird. Rejected by all. I could not let it go to waste, But I had never “made” a turkey. We always had turkey at Thanksgiving, but since I was known as the non cook in the family, I never got asked to bring anything that required cooking. I usually was asked to bring the veggie tray.
Now this rejected turkey was taking up a big chunk of real estate in the freezer, so I decided it’s now or never. Armed with a dozen Google recipes and tips for the broth from a sister-in-law, also here in AZ, I “made” my first turkey. How proud I was.
But now what? What was i going to do with all that turkey? Make soup. Of course. So I made my first turkey soup. It’s in the freezer waiting for my kids to come and visit. They left me with the turkey, and now they better eat my soup!
Now, here’s where the memory of my church friend Darlene comes in. While I was pushing the left over turkey stuff into the garbage disposal, it jammed and started to hum. The water swirled at the top and nothing went anywhere. Google again. And again. And again. Consult with son. Google some more.
And I did it! Got my upper half under the sink, unscrewed two screws, loosened and removed a horizontal pipe, and presto–shredded turkey was the culprit.
No, I’m not up for hire to make your Thanksgiving turkey or to clean out your drains. These activities were one and done. I will never repeat!! But never say no to a challenge the first time, no matter how old you are. I’m heading toward Darlene’s age. If she could clean drains, I could too!