Quiverin' Seasonal Love

We finally broke down the turkey carcass the other day, carving off more meat than I'll be able to deal with in the near future. Freezers, bless their hearts.
Best of all, though, I finally got around to cooking the turkey carcass (with its inevitably still-attached meat chunks, however minuscule) in a large pot of water with the usual suspects: celery, carrot and onion. C'est tout. Oh, well, the salt we had applied to the turkey skin before roasting also found its way into the pot. All right, a bay leaf and a handful of herbs. That's all. Simplicity.
But. Oh.
I cooked it well into the night, finding enough time at the end to strain the stock and let it cool before refrigerating it in quart-size containers.
Today we'll put the containers into zipped freezer bags, and into the freezer awaiting — oh, you know. Whatever. Turkey whatever. Soupy whatever.
The magic is when you use bones. And you simmer for a while.
The whole house smelled as if we were boiling Thanksgiving. (And apart from turkey gravy, that is exactly why we do a turkey once a year. To have tubs of frozen Thanksgiving stock.)
Here it is, just before going into the freezer. All gelatinous and quivery.
Like a spoonful of captured autumn.