I had moose for the first time last night.

Moose don’t live in Oklahoma. But pilots (and would-be pilots, like my husband) do. One of the flight instructors Berck’s flown with offered him a moose roast, so Berck offered to invite him over for pizza if he brought it. That was last Friday. This Thursday, Berck invited D and his girlfriend over to eat the roast. But Berck discovered after chopping up all the vegetables to go in with it that the vacuum-packed chunk of thawed meat was actually ground moose. So we had a beef roast instead. A sorry bait-and-switch, but there you go.

Dinner was very nice. It’s the first time we’ve entertained another couple in our humble abode; the four of us barely fit around the table. I used the white placemats and plaid dinner napkins we got as wedding presents, but the table was so small that the placemats overlapped. Berck situated himself in the chair closest to the kitchen, otherwise, he’d be climbing over everyone to get there.

We made the thawed moose into moose burgers tonight and ate it all ourselves.