The Ramblings of a Mental Meanderthal

When I was 20, about to turn 21, I worked at a dry cleaners. The day before Thanksgiving, Dad drove me to work. I usually drove myself, but he needed the car that day. I walked in, and the boss put a frozen turkey in my arms. It had to weigh twenty pounds. I had no idea what to do with the damn thing. Dad had already left, and the turkey was bigger than our employee fridge. So it sat on the floor and defrosted, surrounded by an ever-increasing puddle of condensation. By the time Dad arrived, it had thawed through. Mom looked at it and decided we'd cook it instead of the smaller one she'd bought. (I don't remember what we did with the spare.) Because it was mine, she said I was going to cook it. I don't remember much beyond getting up early, being slightly freaked out by the innards inside the cavities, searching the exterior for feather remnants, and Mom looking satisfied that she wouldn't spend the whole day on her feet. She supervised and instructed, and she still

This is a take on "funeral potatoes," which is a Mormon thing. Someone I follow at Twitter asked for the recipe. I had to call Auntie to get exact quantities and sizes, as Mom's old recipe card is not very precise. INGREDIENTS 1 cube (1/2 lb) salted butter 1 can condensed cream of chicken soup, 10 1/2 oz. 16 oz. sour cream (pint) bunch of green onions, chopped (use all of the white and most of the green) 3/4 lb. shredded cheddar cheese (a good brand that melts well, like Tillamook) 2 1/2 lbs. russet potatoes, peeled, boiled, and cooled INSTRUCTIONS Peel the potatoes and cut into pieces about half the size of your fist. Do your best to make the potato sizes uniform on at least one axis; it doesn't matter if they are rounds in two or six inches in diameter, so long as the thickness is the same. Put them in a large pot, cover entirely with cold water, and throw in a tablespoon of salt or a bouillon cube (I like Knorr's vegetable). Put the pot on the stove on high hea