Big Bird.

A sixteen-pounder. Tonight is a return to an old friend: the Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving. I'd had intentions of grilling it, but (a) it was too tall for the grill, and (b) I started too late to get it done in time.

So. Inside the oven, it's 450 degrees, as per this excellent Gourmet recommendation. Outside, it's gray, low sky dropping down on the backyard, the back end of fall, the oaks turning now that the maples have finished. It's 54 degrees and headed for 35 overnight.

Our house will not hold the number of people we've invited. It's pot luck, but we didn't tell anybody what to bring. I have to go add water to the roasting pan to keep from filling the house with smoke. Thanksgiving's always been my favorite holiday.