The turkey was done, or getting close.
So my Aunt Mimi and my Aunt Marie opened the oven to take a look, and decided to lift it onto the counter for closer inspection.
The turkey had other ideas. It jumped out of the roasting pan and skidded across the kitchen floor as if it was trying to escape.
That was in Sunnyvale, which sits in the heart of a Silicon Valley that did not exist when I was a kid. My Uncle Pete was a mail carrier, my Aunt Mimi was a homemaker, and they lived only a mile or two from where, three months ago, a house sold for nearly $800,000 above the asking price.
Priced out, big time
The coming holiday...