The first time that Rick and I celebrated Thanksgiving together as a married couple without family, I made a turkey all by myself, which makes us chuckle every Thanksgiving since then. We were attending BYU and living in a basement of an old house on 745 North 300 East in Provo, which is now gone and an apartment complex stands in its place. In our tiny kitchen, I did not know how to do a turkey, but I washed and stuffed it like I had thought I had seen my mother do. However, I forgot one thing: I did not know to remove the packaged giblets. I did not even know they were there until after the turkey was cooked. Life is always full of surprises; the giblets were ours that day.
Each year I prepare a turkey, my heart leaps back in time and I am in our basement apartment with so much to learn. I remember being a new wife and a college student so excited to master everything I could from how to cook a turkey to how to decipher a passage that Coleridge wrote. I am still excited years later to learn; I especially love when there are surprises along the way.
Rick & Char in the basement
of our Provo apartment
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