Thanksgiving

Well, while some of you indulged (excessively, if I might add) on the gobbling creatures, yours truly decided to go on a much more traveled mooing and clucking path. I figured it would be less time and more meat for the three of us (my girlfriend, her brother, and I) to consume and chase with the drinks. Her brother's plane landed at 6pm, a full hour before the time we had calculated (a breakdown in communication somewhere), so we drove the 20-minute one-way ride to get him. On the way, we noticed it had started drizzling, but I didn't think it would affect the grilling outside.
By the time we returned, the drizzle had increased and I still hadn't lighted up the charcoal. I started it before it became worse but had to move it on the porch before the coals were ready, or they would have been extinguished by the now pouring rain. Luckily, they didn't melt or disfigure the sidings.
When they became ready, I put on the marinaded chicken. Now, I am an artist; whatever I do whether it's writing, drawing, cooking, cleaning (sometimes), or driving, I aim to do it with a certain creativity that alleviates the mundaneness allocated to that particular task. So, when I grill I make sure all the things are done in a certain Eddie way that's creative and unique in one or more ways.
This chicken sizzled and wafted to the nostrils, making the mouth water, which led to a grumbling stomach, which, in turn, led to a lot of attention going unpaid.
While the chicken razzled and dazzled on the grill, I set to prepare some sauce for the brochettes (kebabs) and to put the brochettes, onions, and peppers on the skewers.
By this time a few beers had been downed and the atmosphere was becoming merrier than at Christmastime. I turned the chickens to ensure even cooking, peeled the potatoes and put them on the stove, finished the skewers, put a chuck roast on the stove (another specialty of mine), and made sure the sauce was turning out alright. I was busier than a bee in the springtime, an ant in autumn, and a bear's snoring in the winter. Things might be turning out all right after all, or so I thought.
I went out and divined the chicken to be ready. I removed the thighs and set them on the table. Those things looked and smelled scrumptious. We dug in but, for a few of them, the inside was uncooked. We picked a few that seemed ready and set to work. Meanwhile, the brochettes were on the grill.
Something made me go to the office room to look at the computer and that took my attention from the grill. When I finally remembered I found some of the brochettes were literally on fire. I salvaged what could be and we set off to eat as most of the other dishes were ready too.
I must say it turned out well, although I felt bad for Nadia's brother who hasn't tasted my great brochettes before. I will try to make good ones for him before he leaves, but, in the meantime, we have the left overs for today...and that includes the drinks...Eat, drink, and give thanks, my friends.