Just some dandelions to start out your Friday.

Have a great weekend!

One day last week, the Cotton Husband interrupted my relaxing morning of laundry, cooking, running a photography business, changing diapers, feeding bottles, organizing farm paperwork and doing dishes to tell me that he’d brought home a turkey.

First come the family photos with the turkey.

I think Virginia has a law that there MUST be family photos with whatever has been harvested.

Far be it from me to break the law.

Then it was time to start… ahem… preparing the turkey.

No worries, I’ve kept the really gross parts out. I promise.

I wonder if she thought the turkey was trying to steal her swing?

M.K. got just a bit TOO close for my tastes. Call me crazy y’all, but I prefer the blood from wild game not to drip on my babies.

I used to roast the entire turkey breast but I’ve found that it is much more tender when cut into chunks.

And much MUCH easier to cut into chunks when you use kitchen scissors.

Once the breast is all cut up, I like to marinate it for a few hours. This soaked in honey-mustard barbecue sauce for a good 8 hours.

(A side note: most local folks will say that they use Italian dressing. I’m all for that, I just didn’t have any that day. I know, I know, I know that I should have stocked up before turkey season came in, but I just didn’t, ok??)

I started the grill at about 5 that evening and let the turkey slowly cook by leaving the opposite burner on low.

Wild turkey isn’t known to be tender and I won’t try to claim that this was as tender as pot roast or pork shoulder but it WAS tasty and much more tender than if I’d left the breast intact.

And I cleaned up the baby before we ate. Promise.

Why I was waxing rhapsodic about peanuts last year?

Why didn’t I remember that even just preparing the fields for planting left me here at home with babies until almost dark?

And why didn’t I recall how they steal my husband away and keep my rib-eye steaks waiting far too long?  

Thank goodness that chocolate milkshakes and sudden rainshowers equal a family picnic in the middle of the afternoon or we may not see him again until July.