We made roasted chicken fr supper. Sorry I have no pics, but I tore the skin when I pulled it out of the roaster, so it wasn’t so pretty.
But it was cooked! And yummy!
Okay, let me back up.
BA and I have never successfully roasted a chicken. Turkey? Yes. Poached a chicken? Absolutely. Roasted in the oven? NO WAY. It has always come out wrong. Overcooked. Limp and flaccid, or just… gross.
Tonight we did the chicken in this roaster we bought to do dog chickens. We can roast 6 in there at a time and pull them to feed the dogs. (That’s a whole other post.) This time we did one chicken and potatoes and carrots, and OMG so yummy. We loved it.
We’ve had trauma, y’all. BA had the uncookable chicken. 24 hours of roasting, poaching, and finally microwaving, and it didn’t do. I? Have chicken trauma, mostly from catering. I once had to pan up 700 pieces of fried chicken at 6 am while hungover from drinking until 3 am.
So we’ve had some bad luck. The tabletop roaster makes all the difference in the world. Trust me. I will use it for every chicken from now on.
If you like two meats at Thanksgiving and don’t have a double oven, this is also great for turkey, ham or roast beef.
We’re so proud, y’all. I can’t even tell you.
I have a story I want to share.
In light of the recent Twitter dump that 45 took, and the subsequent stories about how DADT ruined lives, I want to go even farther back and tell y’all how the gay and lesbian witch hunts in the military shaped the future of my entire family.
My dad graduated from college in 1954 (hey, he was 38 when I was born. I’m 47). Immediately after, he was drafted into the Army, ostensibly to serve in Korea. Korea wrapped up sooner rather than later, though, so Dad did his two years in communications then, instead of re-upping, convinced the Army to pay him the same money to do the same job as a civilian.
My mom graduated from High School in 1957. She waited six months after that for her best friend Anne to turn 18, and then the two of them went together to join the Women’s Army corps, or WACs. Mom told me often that her only choices in tiny, rural Colorado back then were to get married or work canceling checks at the bank. Neither appealed to her at 18.
She went through basic, and was supposed to train to be a cook, but since she;d worked as a switchboard operator in high school, she ended up in communications as a teletype machine operator (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teleprinter). For the next eight years or so, she traveled all over the world, stationed first in Massachusetts, then twice in Germany and once in Orleans, France. (Remind me to tell you someday about Joanie on the Pony and armpit bread.)
By 1965, both of my parents were stationed at White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico, where they met working in the communications center.
History was made.
Now, this is where the important part comes in. AT 34, my dad was considered a “confirmed bachelor”. My mom was a spinster at 24 (yes, they still said that in 1965) and both of them were not exactly conforming to perfect gender rolls. Mom was a drill sergeant. The Non-Commissioned officer in charge of a shift at the communications center. She went fishing and hiking and she made wood carvings for fun. Dad was a nerd. He read Zane Grey romances and painted oil paintings for fun. He worked the night shift, and he didn’t date.
This was an all around problem. Why? Because the McCarthy era “witch hunts” were still on. See, before DADT, there were people whose sole job it was to drum gay and lesbian folks out of the military. Back then it wasn’t a general discharge. It was a mental health dishonorable. In fact, suicide was huge in the various branches back then. My mom had a friend who, she later found out, worked for the CIA, exposing gay people. She was a lesbian herself, so there’s a special place in hell for her.
Anyway, the gist of all this is, gay=bad in my parents’ situations.
I have no idea what their arrangement was. I know this: They loved each other. They had 2 kids together. And they lived together until my mom passed away in 2000 from a brain aneurysm.
3 years after my mom passed, my dad came out of the closet. He hugged me and told me he’d lived his life for other people too long. It was time to live for him.
This turned my world upside down. I had known for years I had gay family members. I felt awful for them when my dad or my brother wold call their live in partners “roommates”. The whole attitude put forth by my dad was one of homophobia, so I learned to hide my own bi tendencies, never mentioning that while I had dated men, all my major love relationships were with women.
When dad came out of the closet I felt blindsided. Denied. Lied to.
Thank God I had my wife, who then was my business partner and living in a different state. She reminded me that 1966 was a different time. That my dad was born in 1932 in South Carolina, and had all the social issues that came with that. That questioning my parents’ motive led to madness. That their decisions didn’t affect the way they loved me.
My brother went the route of utter denial, even when dad introduced his 20 year younger than him boyfriend. To this day he claims Dad was just lonely and confused.
Now. don’t get me wrong. I loved my folks, and I was so glad they got together to produce me and my brother, and that they made us a life were we could feel safe, loved and wanted.
But how much of their real selves, and that of many other members of my family. did they have to hide in order for them to keep their jobs and lives and not end up in disgrace?
Forcing glbtq people to live in the closet so they can serve in the military erases them as human beings. It forces them to hide their authentic selves and to live in fear.
Not only that, but 45’s announcement is just one more permission given to people who believe hate is the answer to g after trans people. Like my stepson. Since the election, he’s been threatened, fired, and had his house egged by people who feel like the current administration supports their actions.
To all of my trans friends and family, and to everyone fighting the good fight, I love you, support you, and I see you. We have to keep fighting. We can’t go back to the witch hunts.
Been awhile since I released the hounds!
What are you reading this summer?
BA reads a lot of horror. Right now she’s reading the Beauty of Death anthology. Click here to check it out.
I just finished Cherry Pop by Samantha Kane (clicky!) . I love the Mercury Rising books. I’m fixing to dive into Elizabeth Lowell’s Dangerous Refuge. I’ve been a fan since the Tennessee, Nevada and Utah days… It’s here, and I’ll let you know what I think!
Feel free to rec us some books!
Look at me, blogging! Cackles.
Okay, so BA is sponsoring at the Gravetells blog indie month this week! Check it out here!
There’s a chance at an Amazon gift card for 25.00 in it for you to go look!
In other news, BA just signed a contract for Slip, the second Recovery book. The first book, Refired, about gallery owners and ex lovers Josh and Kris, is here!
BA and Julia Just had releases at Changeling!
Julia’s is a standalone called Fairweather Fiend
BA’s is the 3rd reclamation book. Uhn
And finally, Julia has a reprint coming soon. Okay, breaking third person, I love this one so much! Sparkle and Shine has been out of print for a year and a half, and I missed it!
Hugs and thanks for hanging with us. I’ll be on the ball again, I swear.
We’re not dead I swear. I’m just a bad blogger. I am. We have book news and side hustle stuff and food to blog! We went to the Romantic Times convention over a month ago, and we’re just now recovering.
Hang in there!
The Giant Beaver in Ruidoso
Log Cabin Restaurant Ruidoso
Giant Pistachio Alamogordo
Just a Cowboy is the second in the Riding Cowboy Flats series. It’s a second edition, originally published in 2010
We’re going to see Garth Brooks in Las Cruces in 2 weeks. We’re gonna take 3 days or so and explore southern New Mexico.
We intend to take lots of pics.
Here’s what we’re looking forward to most.
I’ll let you know what actually ended up being the best part!
This week I used a combination of stickers from Myfoxydesigns on Etsy (the purple and blue spring hearts and raindrop checklists and the weekend sticker) and some florals I got from Pipsticks.
I love the springness of it. I also love the little check boxes. Ticky!
MyFoxydesigns has great Happy Planner layout stickers, but also great daily use ones, like these social media things here!
Pipsticks.com has a sticker subscription.. They send you a monthly envelope with stickers! Almost always seasonal.
Then there’s my daily to do list planner. Today as I mark things off, I want to use glasses and mustaches to mark off my tickys!
Those came from Pipsticks, too!
I use the Happy Planner Classic, which comes in boxed sets, even. Click here to see. They also have larger sized planners or minis, which are purse sized.
Happy Planner day!