How the Grinch (Nearly) Stole Thanksgiving

It was that close.

Thanksgiving traditionally comes on a Thursday, and by Monday morning we still didn't have a working kitchen. No stove; no dishwasher; no washer or dryer in the laundry room. Oh, and no bathroom, either.

Things were looking bleak.


The local restaurants may be our only choice. Dinner at Denny's, anyone?

With superhuman effort, three skinny workers hauled all the appliances out of the garage and up the back stairs to the second floor. No mean feat, that. Coincidentally, I wasn't here to see it (grin).

But that was last week. Now all the hardware is sitting in the middle of the kitchen, unplugged and only vaguely near their destined places. The official "appliance installer" had bailed out sometime last week with no explanation.

Sunday I muscled the fridge into place and leveled it. That's one down. Tuesday the plumber came and adjusted the gas line behind the stove. That's two. He also moved the gas hookup for the dryer, and plumbed the washer (and the dryer, which has a cold-water connection). Somewhere in there the leak under the kitchen sink got fixed and the dishwasher got plumbed in. By Wednesday morning it was looking... maybe... almost... possible.

There are no knobs on any of the drawers, so we made do with blue painter's tape. And we had no lights except for a couple in the vent hood, so... we're cooking early today! Turkey in the oven, veggies on the stove, rolls in the warmer, and pies from across the street. We're cooking now.

Cari and David both made it from their respective homes. It smells like a real Thanksgiving.