Rolling thunder and Torrents

This title reminds me of a concert I once went to; it's actually the weather today.
I need to go to the store for the secret ingredients (ha!) for the Ritual Thanksgiving Kugel, but it is way to inclement to walk between the raindrops. What to do! I'm killing time, waiting for it to let up.
Meanwhile, I know lurkers will be reading this ( I got 3 phone calls already asking me what Oi vavoi means- comments, not so much) and will wonder at my extreme sacrifice and trial by rain for the sake of famial love and devotion.
Alas, (oi vavoi!) I can't stand to see my brother cry.
Also, my niece Sarah very helpfully reminded me that due to my broken arm, I did not bring a kugel last year therefore I need to bring a kugel twice as big so as to satisfy the gods, restore balance to the universe and apparently appease Pete.(?)
Well, the window has opened, the hour upon me, I go now to my watery fate.

And lo, I have returned, miraculously escaping the worst of the storm, but not using overly-dramatic prose.
At the market, I was the only person on line without a turkey, which invoked turkey envy. (Turkey by the way, is hoodoo in Hebrew, how cool is that?) I am secure in the knowledge that the bones of Thursday's bird will be secured (perhaps in an ossuary?) and sent home with me, but still anxiety persists. There was one year when they dumped the bonesin the trash. You know who you are.
In fairness, there was one year that we forgot the kugel.
My market junket reminds me of a recent trip to another market I frequent, in a very West Indian neighborhood.
Walking along the aisles was a boy who was questioning his dad: I forgot, Daddy, how do you say yes?
"Da", the Caribbean Dad replied in Russian. "Da, da"
And this is one reason Brooklyn is so cool, dear reader.