Brick-oven-baked turkey?

The 44 lb turkey fit in the oven. It even fit on the rack. But then the rack bent that small amount necessary to fall of it's supports. So there are bricks under the rack holding it up. Maybe next year I'll plan on cooking the turkey in the beehive oven. I'd have to spend the entire previous day heating it up, but I bet it would make great turkey.

just what you need to hear while cooking...

Uncle Dave's Grace

lyrics by Peter Berryman, music by Lou Berryman
©1999; All Rights Reserved. Used by permission.
We are Berryman groupies, and love so many of their songs it's
hard to choose just one. Peter says this is based on an actual
event ... but all their songs are. - CM

"We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing"

Thanksgiving day, Uncle Dave was our guest
He reads the Progressive which makes him depressed
We asked Uncle Dave if he'd like to say grace,
A dark desolation crept over his face
"Thanks," he began as he gazed at his knife,
"To poor Mr. Turkey for living his life
All crowded and cramped in a great metal shed
Where life was a drag then they cut off his head

"Thanks," he went on, "for the grapes in my wine
Picked by sick women of seventy-nine
Scrambling all morning for bunch after bunch
Then brushing the pesticides off of their lunch
Thanks for the stuffing all heaped on my fork
Shiny with sausage descended from pork
I think of the trucks full of full of pigs that I see
And can't help imagine what they think of me"

Continuing, "I'd like to thank if you please
Our salad bowl hacked out of tropical trees
And for this mahogany table and chair
We thank all the jungles that used to be there
For cream in our coffee and milk in our mugs,
We thank all the cows full of hormones and drugs
Whose calves are removed at a very young age
And force-fed as veal in a minuscule cage

"Oh thanks for the furnace that heats up these rooms
And thanks for the rich fossil fuel it consumes
Corrupting the atmosphere ounce after ounce
But we're warm and toasty and that is what counts
I'm grateful," he said, "for these clothes on my back
Lovely and comfy and cheap off the rack
Fashioned in warehouses noisy and cold
In China by seamstresses seven years old

"And thanks for my silverware setting that shines
In memory of miners who died in the mines
Worn down by the shoveling of tailings in piles
Whose runoff destroys all the rivers for miles
We thank the reactors for our chandelier
Although the plutonium won't disappear
For hundreds of decades it still will be there
But a few more Chernobyls and who's gonna care?"

Sighed Uncle Dave, "though there's more to be told
The wine's getting warm and the bird's getting cold"
And with that he sat down as he mumbled again
"Thank you for everything, amen"
We felt so guilty when he was all thru
It seemed there was one of two things we could do
Live without food, in the nude, in a cave,
Or next year have someone say grace besides Dave

A-yup, that were a big-un.