Our Christmas goose is almost as big as Bao.

But when I went to pick it up from our local "purveyor of fine foods" it wasn't there. Sorry, said the butcher. No geese this year.

But we've got company coming for Christmas Dinner, and they're expecting roast goose!

Sorry, said the butcher. He wasn't, though. Not a bit.

So off we went on a wild goose chase. Surely, I told Bao, somebody, somewhere has a goose -- preferably killed and plucked -- for sale. Otherwise, we're gone goslings! We tried a couple of supermarkets. No luck. We tried a specialty grocerer. The good news was that he had a freezer full of geese. The bad news was that they all belonged to people who'd ordered them weeks in advance. But he did suggest another supermarket.

There were turkeys and ducks and Cornish game hens in the freezer chest, but no geese. Nary a one. I was almost in tears. I hate being thwarted.

Ask at the counter, suggested one of my fellow customers. They might have a few in the back. And so they did. Just one last goose, but hey! We only need one. So instead of my goose being cooked, I'll be cooking goose after all. Happy Solstice, everyone!