It’s a Christmas story late — just like the hens.
The intention was there, but the timing wasn’t right.
I had taken the frozen Cornish hens out of the freezer in time — perfectly thawed.
Ed bought the fresh rosemary, thyme, and lemon to go with the other necessary ingredients I already had on hand. The raw vegetables were waiting for preparation while the uncooked rice sat in the pot.
Then I came home from work early and stared at the kitchen sink. The dishes needed washing and pots required cleaning.
And there went my Christmas mojo — it was as easy as that.
Inside the fridge sat a fresh slab of ham, a package of creamy mashed potatoes, and raw broccoli that would take minutes to steam.
Voilà. Christmas Eve dinner was on the table and thoroughly enjoyed.
On Christmas Day, we enjoyed the hens.
There was no more room for excuses.
