Those ladies knew how to roast a turkey to crispy skin perfection.

My sister and I didn't give a hoot about white meat or dark meat all we wanted was that crispy skin so for the sit down part of a holiday meal we usually settled for a wing but we kept a wary eye on each other when the turkey was taken into the kitchen.

Any unguarded turkey with that crisp Old Bay flavored skin was fair game for us. It belonged to us and no one else in the family and once enough time had passed we excused ourselves and made a dash to the kitchen to gobble down that gobbler's skin.

Why is it so dark outside?

[Late, probably cloudy afternoon sun plus exposure stopped down for bright, close-quarters flash. - tterrace]

I live in a home that was built in 1955. In one of the bathrooms we have that same blue tile. My Wife hates it !

9:30!
And here I thought we ate late.

[According to the clock, more like 3:55.]

That seems more like a crow effigy she's holding up.

And, the glasses are as classic as the turquiose tile - Lucky it wasn't avocado or copper like my mom's kitchen!

And I imagine Mom doesn't trust Dad to carve the turkey, so it happens in the kitchen.

There's another Virgin on what looks like a church calendar with the Blessed Mother as December's picture.

Those curtains have been starched within an inch of their lives! I admire the way they were pressed. They look like they would break if they were touched, and that's not meant as an insult. Mother's apron and dress have been pressed well, too, but with much less starch.

Is that a coffeepot in the dish drainer? It's shiny enough to give a good reflection, but my vision isn't sharp enough to tell what it reflects.

Do I see a saint? Or at least an angel. Also, over on the windowsill, a Virgin.