Like A Day in the Park. Like at Night in the near East.

My wife's birthday is in January.  I've found this a convenient coincidence, because the gift ideas I come up with for Christmas are sometimes out of stock, so when I inevitably order them too late to get here for Sue's Christmas stocking - I find they usually arrive in plenty of time for her birthday, about 4 weeks hence.  It is a beautiful scheme.

This year, the particular belated gift that I order was supposed to ship and be here by December 30.  No dice.  It looks like it will be a lot longer in coming.  In fact way too long to make it in time for her birthday.  I need a Plan B.

Plan B: Take the day off, take her to a nice brunch.  Then enjoy a day at the Dallas Arboretum (Winter pricing with no flowers blooming is $5), and then pick up a cheese cake and top off the evening with a dinning experience at a local Afghan restaurant.  

We had brunch at a cafe across the street from Dallas' Ebola ground-zero.  Not sure, but I bet CNN's Anderson Cooper, major network reporters and Jesse Jackson probably ate there last September when the intersection of Walnut Hill Road and Greenville Avenue was the backdrop that led the top of the national news.  Eggs over easy on my brochette with a short stack on the side.  No disagreeable symptoms at all.     

We zigged and zagged our way southeastward and pulled into the arboretum in the sunny 64 degree late morning.  We strolled the grounds. lounged a bit and watched the sky cloud up in the afternoon as the weather front moved into town, bringing the promised rain at sunset.

I usually make the birthday cheesecake, but since we were going to be at the arboretum, the Royale Cheesecake Factory is just a quarter mile up the road, so we just dropped in and the birthday girl selected an amaretto cheesecake.  Done.

A check of the Afghan restaurant's website said open everyday from 11 to 10.  We double checked just make sure.  We arrived at 7 PM, they were turning off the lights.  I found somebody who spoke mostly spanish, and they indicated cerrado, closed.  Close at quatro, 4 PM.  Well, first the British, then the Soviets, and then the Americans always found Afghanistan to be a tough place to do business, I said.  Sue was in high dungeon, but we agreed upon a nice Persian place not too far up the road.  If we can't get satisfaction in Afghanistan, lets go try Iran. They're all in the same neighborhood you know.

It was a Happy Birthday.

Why didn't I do this before?

Under the category: Why didn't I do this before?

Crossword Puzzle: 5 Down: "Hard water" (3 letters)

A wise guy told me, "Make hay while the sun shines", a corollary is, "Put up rain gutters in dry weather".

Some times here in North Texas we go a whole winter without getting snow or ice.  But some times we do get snow and or ice.  When we get rain in freezing weather it should be no mystery as to what happens to the water on the ground.  Yeah it gets hard.  What is a 3-letter word for "hard water", it is "i-c-e".  Due to a very poor design by the home builder, when it rains during freezing weather, the water that runs off of my garage roof and drains right onto the fan unit of my HVAC system.  The ice that forms sometimes around the fan, either freezes it solid (which means I have de-ice it with hot water from a tea kettle), or it builds up on the fan blades, so that when the thermostat tells the unit to start up, the built up ice is flung off the blades with a violent sound of crashing. A crushing rattle that jolts me from my sleep inside my bedroom on the other side of the wall.  At this point my options are limited; my white-trash fix-it solution is to cover the top of the fan with a piece of plywood and then place a segment of a rain gutter on top of the wood to keep the water from pouring into the unit and freezing up again.  I always say, "Mark, once it warms up. you got to get a permanent solution to this redneck rigging."  Ah, but when it is a warm Texas spring day, the need to put up a rain gutter does not seem to be the most pressing need.

So it is a new year.  But like so many Januaries before; it rains, it freezes and I find myself storming out of my warm bed, thinly clad in my skivvies, sloshing barefooted through the sodden sod and around the woodpile to throw a piece of plywood to cover the top of the HVAC fan unit while the rain comes down.

Mid-January, 2015 we had a mild spell.  I had an inspiration.  Do the damned gutter and drain - NOW!  I already had a few rain gutter piece from an earlier inspiration, so I measured the eaves, calculated the length of additional gutter plus hangers, seam sealant etc.  I fit all the pieces together on a balmy weekend afternoon, then I climbed off the roof and stood looking up at the eaves like a bedazzled fool.  Why didn't I do this before?

Rain was in the forecast for the coming days.  I took the wife out for dinner, the windshield wipers were pounding out a satisfying rhythm as we pulled into the neighborhood.  The automatic garage door opener did its job, and we pulled up the driveway and into a dry garage.  I parked as my sweetheart retired to the house.  But instead of going inside, I just had to go stand out in the rain and watch and listen as the water trickled down the gutter and out the drain pipe.  I stood in the rainy darkness, watching and listening for a long time.  I must have looked like a fool, but I wasn't concerned, because I felt real good as the water flowed out around my feet - and not on my HVAC fan. 

As 'Coolhand Luke" would sing, "I don't care if rains or freezes..."

*******************

Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Dwayne.
Dwayne who?
Dwayne the water off the roof, the HVAC is dwowning!

In With The New - An Honored Tradition

"New" juxtapose with "Tradition".  Perhaps a bit oxymoronic,  but that is how I like it.

One of my sincerest loved traditions has been the gathering of family friends out in East Texas at the McCord's Blue House for New Years.  For some years now, usually four couples who raised our kids together would gather at the McCord's country estate for a few days and nights around New Year's Eve.  The place has a bunkhouse where the adults would sleep, while the youngins would pile into the kid bedrooms in the main house.  We would share cooking, wine, stories and update events, good and bad from the recent past. Play some parlor games, do a few jigsaw puzzles, watch DVD movies. A good time.

The last 3 or 4 years, the "kids" have grown and moved off to college and such, leaving us empty-nester adults to carry on.  An we have in fine tradition.  Occasionally, one of the young adults will join their parents for a brief time at the Blue House, before dropping back into their own social obligations and orbit of friends.  But the New Years tradition continues, and is there if anyone chooses to join in.  

This year again we made plans to head the 104 miles southeast to the McCord's.  Grant was still home from the University of Missouri on Christmas Break, and in my mind it was a question as to whether he wanted to join his parents for the traditional gathering.  With most his his peers not going to be there, the option to not hang out with the old parents seemed like a strong possibility to me.  I was surprised and then pleased when he asked if he could invite Kaileen to join us.  Including Kaileen in one of our family's better traditions, seemed like a magnanimous and solid idea.  Mom said, "We'll have to check with the McCords first - but I think this would be great."

This is good; something new to the tradition.

Kirby & Donna McCord get the bubbly ready:
3-2-1! Happy New Year!

Donna struggles mightily to pop the champagne cork

Kaileen drove up I-45 to our house from the Houston area and met Grant and Sue.  And then the three of them traveled out to the McCords.  I remained behind to care for the dog.  My plan was to arrive on New Year's Eve, while Grant and Kaileen would come back to our house on New Year's Day to take over caring for the dog and catch the Mizzou v. Minnesota bowl game on our TV.  However, once I arrive in the afternoon, Kaileen was not feeling well; so Grant drove her back to Garland from all the bustle at the McCords.

Grant and Kaileen interact on an easy, well-matched level of conversation and interests.  We enjoyed having her around, as she is positive and interesting and immediately fit well into the household scene around here.

After about a week into 2015, itr was time for the two them to get back to Columbia, MO.  Grant had work scheduled Zimmer Radio and Kaileen too had some things to attend to.  Grant planned on meeting Kaileen about half way between Dallas and Houston at a cafe/pie shop in Fairfield.  Kaileen's mother and "Nana" would escort her up and make the exchange so Grant could drive the both of them back the next day to Missouri.  I was apparently a good deal for Grant, he not only got his girlfriend back, but got a Christmas gift hoodie sweatshirt and then Nana slipped some folding green into his pocket and whispered some instructions into his ear, "Treat yourselves to something nice."  Kaileen comes from good people.

Kaileen and Grant
Prior to departure for Columbia. MO

This is Christmas 2014

We usually get a bit of decent December weather sometime in the middle of the month.  This is nature's way of signaling me that I need to stoke up my ambition an hang those old C-9 exterior Christmas lights on the eaves, yes, the ones I inherited from my parents.  The very ones that were hung on my house in gaudy 70's.  These lights are 40 years old!  I lay out the strings on the grass and plug them in before hanging them up.  This year, another string fails to carry the current to light up.  I salvage the blue and green bulbs and throw that old wire string away.  As I am half way across the first window peak with my decorating efforts, Jane from two doors down, stops at the curb and pokes fun of my high-wire act and effort.  She suggests that I could get a modern set of lights and just easily throw them on my bushes.  Easy Peasy.  I tell her, even the Cratchet family made an effort to celebrate Christmas.  But as she pulls away, I have to ask myself; who am I trying to impress? 

Suneson's Christmas Home - The way it is supposed to look
Back when all of the light strings functioned

Perhaps on some small part there is the tug of obligation to the civic religion to have one's house decorated for Christmas (I've heard even some Jewish families feel this obligation); at least I can honestly embrace roots of Christmas.  Who wants to have a 'Bah Humbug' house? - as our neighbors back in the 60's self proclaimed their house.  But I think that this year, mostly with both kids coming back home late in the Christmas Season, I mostly wanted the place to look kind of like old times.  So, the peaceful blue and green bulbs softly shine through the dark nights of Advent - and will purposely do so through the 12th Day of Christmas, January 6.

Grant had arrive the week before Christmas with Kaileen from Mizzou.  She spent 2 nights and a day with us before Grant drove her on to her home north of Houston, Grant returning the following day.  Inga had a week with us, arrivng at the stroke of midnight on the 20th at Love Field in Dallas.

Sister and Brother made plans to go have BBQ in Fort Worth.  Other than that, it was generally hang around the house, do some shopping, check social media.

Below are a few photos of the Suneson's 2014 Christmas:

Strider lays before the kitchen door watching his pack
Inga, long gone from the pack, tries not to drop her laptop
while stepping over the old dog

Inga helps with dinner

All of the stockings were hung with care...

Sue with a spot of tea comes to join her daughter
before the mid-winter blaze

Grant pulls a few Santa goodies from his stocking
Christmas Day

Stider is discombobulated to find a cat residing under the Christmas Tree

Grant checks out the label of a Portland specialty bres
A gift from his Portlandian Sister

Inga is amused by what is revealed
once the wrapping paper is removed
Christmas Morning

Sue collects another Laura Ingalls-Wilder book
while modeling her gift infinity scarf

Inga & Sue roll up this year's Christmas Dinner Dessert
A Buche de Noel (trans from French as 'Yule Log') -
a light cinnamon cream filled ginger sponge cake roll 

Inga and Grant
Home for Christmas, 2014

Fade Out of A Christmas Tradition

Every thing in its season.
There was a time in the Suneson Family that when the days shorten to almost their lowest ebb, and the air chilled and the leaves upon the neighborhood trees browned and began to fall before the cold breezes dropping upon us from the north, that we could look to the coming of the Christmastide.  This Season of Christmastide, heralded by quickly fading afternoon light brought with it the illumination of the 1970's era strings of blue and green Christmas lights strung from our eaves outside our home.  While inside the parents would bring up the subject of planning when to take our annual trip to Kadee Farms as a family to select and cut our Christmas tree.  Usually a weekend was chosen, not too soon so as to not have the cut tree dry out on us way before Santa arrived, and hopefully not too late to still have a good selection from which to choose the perfect (or best under the circumstances) specimen.

For me, the hunt was the best part of the ritual in finding an evergreen to bring home.  Each family member would fan out through the rows of Virginia Pine and shout out to the others if they found a worthy candidate to consider.  The clan gathered and discussed; height, color, neatness, did it have a good top and have a straight trunk (no fork).  Was this the one?  A vote was called, and we either unsheathed our bow saw, or we kept going to find and cut a better one. 

Once all had taken a turn in pushing the saw blade through the sappy trunk, the pine was felled and taken back to Kadee Farmhouse.  While our Christmas tree was shaken to remove much of the dead needles before being bound by a nylon net and mounted and tied to the roof of the SUV, we gathered around the crock pot of heated spiced apple cider and sipped.  This was how it was for nearly two decades.  The 60 mile return to Garland, mostly through rural Texas, usually had us stopping for a barbecue dinner at some smoke shack in one of the towns between there and here.

This year, Christmas 2014 the family gathered for Christmas, but not until Inga flew in from Portland, Oregon late in December, held in place by work obligations and adult-world kind of things.  Grant too, arrived well nigh unto Christmas after finals at the University of Missouri, too late to make a trip to the old Kadee Christmas Tree Farm practical.  So, in order to have a tree up for when the "kids" did arrive home, Sue and I got a late start as urban Christmas tree shopping goes, and drove the half-mile to Lowe's and looked over their picked-over lot.  We found a 6' Douglas Fir as a fitting symbol to represent hope and renewed life of the Christ child in our home.

Now, a Doug Fir without argument is a superior Christmas tree to the old Virginia Pine found growing at the verge of the East Texas province, but picking a tree out of a bin, just the two of us, has me feeling a bit hollow.  For me, it is more than just the tree, it is the event, the tradition.  It's just not the same as driving an hour in anticipation of hunting and finding and cutting your own tree with the whole of the family.

To everything there is a season.  
There was once a part of the season of Christmas that included the traditional tree hunt.  I see that part of the Christmas season has now faded, the family dispersed, and the tradition but a memory.  Such are seasons.

A wish for a season of fine old memories and may it be filled with fresh and pleasant new ones as well.

Christmas 2014 Douglas Fir
Evergreen a traditional symbol of hope and renewal
representing the spirit of the coming Christ Child

  

Holiday Travels

It is a 9-hour drive from The University of Missouri, Columbia to Garland, Texas.
The trip back home for the holidays can be buoyed by the fact that one is done with finals.  But how long can the euphoria last, when there is another semester to work through and then it is out into the 'real world', job or no job.  This reality has to be tempering.

My suggestion: get a girlfriend.  That should make the drive a lot easier and more fun.  Actually, I did not need to make this suggestion to Grant, as he already figured it out on his own.  Smart kid.

Grant and Kaileen finished finals on Tuesday.  Kaileen lives on the north edge of Houston, another 3 1/2 hours south on I-45.  Grant brought Kaileen home to meet the parents (us).  As it has been for every generation, I suspect that Kaileen got the download on all the perceived family quirks and how to interpret and handle 'the parents'.  I am thinking I did OK for the first meeting.  We certainly enjoyed Kaileen.  They arrived on Tuesday night, and we served the requested chicken in buttery lemon-white wine sauce over pasta with some homemade focaccia bread.  Grant and Kailene toured the museum district and lunch in downtown Dallas the next morning.

Thursday, they were off to Kaileen's home dispatched with a plate full of Sue's homemade Christmas cookies.  Grant stayed overnight, and returned to Dallas in the evening, just in time to join us to Love Field where we met Inga, arriving from her home in Portland.

 I can not but help enjoying each stage of life.  Good to see Grant and Kaileen together and enjoying themselves.  This is what I have come to treasure most about the holidays.

Sly Mr. Grant and Kaileen catch up on social media.
Kaileen's major is Journalism that emphasizes the convergence
of all digital and traditional forms of communication

  

My Nephew... The Doctor -

My nephew - The Doctor...

(Well, technically not a doctor; but he is a graduate of University of Texas, Southwestern Medical School)

Nephew Brian arrived in Dallas 18 months ago from San Diego as one of 13 in the Prosthetics and Orthodics program.  We had him over to our house occasionally and (as promised to his father) every Thanksgiving.  He did well, graduated at the top of his class and landed an internship in Olympia, Washington, only 26 miles from his fiancee's school.

Brian allowed as how graduation was anticlimactic after working so hard.  He was just ready to pack up an leave Dallas to get near Amy.  His mother (my sister) and his father flew into town to see the graduation event and help pack up and drive him up to Olympia, via California.  We, of course offered to host and help in any way we could.

First order: Dinner on Saturday once everybody was assembled in Texas.  Dinner was barbecue.

Wendy joins Sue and Brian with a plate of pulled pork and ribs

Sunday, December 7th, a day that will live in infamy...  oops.  

Sunday, December 7th, a day set for graduation from UT Southwestern P&O Program.  We joined Brian, Wendy and Barth in the mostly packed apartment and then drove over to campus for the ceremony.

Brian receives his hood

We took Brian's last scraps of remaining food, and headed home to turn the items into a spaghetti dinner.  Once Brian's place was all packed into the U-Haul trailer (pre-planned and diagrammed by Brian), they came by for dinner and night's sleep.

Off they drove in the early morning, destination: Grants, New Mexico for night 1.

Well done Brian.  We hope to join you in the Northwest someday.

CONGRADULATIONS!

Around and About the Big D

All dressed up at the Perot Museum
A Dapper Dinosau
Festive for the Holidays

We missed feasting with Bill and Susan on Thanksgiving.  We had originally planned on going to Wichita Falls as T-Day guests.  Then Grant made plans to leave for Missouri right after the meal.  Then the Cook's table had a few more additions....

And then it was decided that we would get together the day after Thanksgiving.  We would host them in Dallas, ride the DART train to downtown, eat from the food trucks in Klyde Warren Park, see the Perot Museum of Nature and Science and return to our house for a pot roast dinner.  But not just pot roast -- Sue had been saving the tomato aspic for just such an occasion.  The T. aspic was not served to under appreciating guests at Thanksgiving, but was held back because only true members of the Cook Clan can savor tomato aspic at Thanksgiving time.

Group Portrait in Downtown Dallas
Mark, Sue, Susan & Bill

Bill & Susan at Asian Fusion Food Truck
One of the lunch offerings at Klyde Warren Park

Bahn Mi Vietnamese Sandwiches all around

The Ancestral Photos
Now who is that?

Hey Lookee at this. I did a Fancy!

After correcting the under-rising cornmeal yeast rolls that I made the night before by making and baking a second batch on Thanksgiving morning, I was casting around for something to do.

I pulled the how-to book on folding fancy napkins from the shelf.  I thumbed through instructions for folding cloth napkins into shapes such as sailboats, octopi, roses and lillies.  I thought a palm would pair well with the green napkins I had laid out.

Hey! Look what I did!!!!!!!  Aint it fancy?

That colorful corn you see in the background; that's "Pirate Corn" -
because it costs a "buck an ear".

The GoldilocksTurkey, Kith and Kin

Goldilocks went shopping for Thanksgiving.

The first turkey she came upon was 8 lbs.  "Oh my! This bird will not do, it is too small."  So she left it in the freezer case.

The next turkey she found was 18 lbs.  "Oh my! This bird will not do, it is way, way too big."  So Goldilocks left that turkey in the freezer case also.

Then Goldilocks found a 12 lb turkey.  "Oh joy!  This bird is just right."  So she (and all her sisters) lifted the 12 lb turkey out of frozen display case and took it to the cashier to buy it - thus emptying the entire selection of middle of the road turkeys.  [Yes.  These 'middle-of-the-road' sized turkeys never did make it across to the other side of the proverbial road]

We went shopping after Goldilocks.  We found plenty of turkeys that were too small, or way, way too big.  But the case where a 12 pound bird would be "just right", was empty.  "Ha!  Somebody has been shopping for my turkey and she bought all the 10-12 pounders, leaving nothing for me, cried the baby bear."

A recheck of the store a day later showed that birds had been restocked.  With the selection of a 12 pound bird, we were set to host son Grant (home from college for a few days), nephew Brian (2 weeks away from finishing post-grad college here in Dallas at UT Southwestern Medical School), and friend Jeff.  That makes a table of five.

I was in charge of the cornmeal yeast rolls.  I did not use enough yeast in the batch made the night before.  So I had a do-over on Thursday morning.  Otherwise, the turkey roasted nicely and on schedule, the citrus cranberry relish, the bread stuffing, the mash potatoes, the green beans and the sweet potatoes all turned out "just right".

The pecan and pumpkin pies turn out more than just right.

12 lb Turkey makes it into the oven on time

My little sweet potato

Grant was back on the road to Columbia, MO (635 miles) by mid-afternoon in order to be able to attend his final Mizzou football game the following day [Univ of Missouri was victorious over the Arkansas Razorbacks, 21-14]

Grant gets a pecan pie for the road back to Missouri

Sue's brother Bill and his wife Susan, opted for family Thanksgiving feast in Wichita Falls; but would join us the following day to tour Dallas.

Any meat scraps for the dog?
Strider looks for some counter-top goodies - but please, NO gibblets

Blowing Birthday Bubbles in the Mud

Ah yes, another birthday.  Where has that charm of "my very own special day" gone now?  After some decades the big birthday day now often seems like any other day.  Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for each day, a day I can raise myself up out of bed and do the things a guy has got to do.  But, doing all the things, just isn't as charming as having that one special day.

With the nationwide cold snap now moved back to its rightful place up in Minnesota and points north, the morning sun was out, the breeze was mild and for my birthday day to begin I pick a shovel from the shed and head for the soggy spot around the valve in Line #1 of the lawn irrigation system; here lies one of those things to do that a guy has got to do - birthday or not.  The spade makes a gurgling sucking sound as I pry up a sodden lump of sticky black clay and dump it a few feet away.  Muddy water seeps into the hole and I pry up another lump of wet clay and laboriously scrape it from my shovel blade.  I dig carefully until I reach the white PVC pipe buried about 1 foot deep at the edge of the garden space.  I enlarge the hole and pull a used dog food can from the recycle bin and use it to bail out the muddy water which I toss over my wife's pea plants.  I have been here before.  This is a repeat repair job from a few months back, where I cut out the old valve and spliced in a new valve and couplings.  Apparently, my first go at repairs did not last long.

Once I have bailed the muddy water sourced from an earlier rain and a leak in the connection between the main line and the valve to Line #1, I discover that my pipe dope cemented splice connection is leaking.  I swab the male and female connection once again with liberal amounts of PVC cement and recouple them and hold them together for a few minutes for good measure.  

I return to the water main in the front of the house and open the valve to turn the water back on.  The leaking connection now seem to be sealed, but then I see another leak.  There is a small spray is coming from the threaded connection at the up-stream end of the valve.  What the H-E-Double tooth-picks; let me get a wrench and see if I can tighten the threaded connection a quarter turn tighter.  I give it a twist.  Then I go sprinting for the main valve shut-off at the front of the house.  Everything has just gotten worse.  I'll just blow bubbles in this mud puddle.

What do I want for my birthday?  I desperately want a 1" PVC end-cap.  A short jaunt to the Home Despot and I find what I need of $0.78.  Happy Birthday to me!

I move up the line about 4 feet from the vexing valve dig a new hole and cut out a 5-inch section of the main PVC line.  The hole naturally fills with water that drains out of the pipe and I lie on my belly to bail.  I think to myself, now I'll really blow bubbles in the mud puddle at the tip of my nose - that will be my birthday celebration [poor me].  Instead, I bail and then tap the cap over the 1" PVC line with my rubber mallet and seal off the problem (temporarily).  I will get to back to this seemingly simple repair some other day.  For now, my pipe dreams have become pipe nightmares, it looks like I have "mud on my hands". 

But the indoor plumbing is restored to the house and I have staunched the leak. And that allows my wife to bake a dazzling rum cake for my birthday.

Light the candles! I guess this birthday is not so bad after all.  

Rum Birthday Cake
For the "muddied, but not beaten" plumber

Grant, home for the Thanksgiving Holiday that coincides with
his Dad's birthday.  Grant brings a gift wrapped in a 'playful kittens'
bag - A History of the Civil War in Missour.

Returning 2 by 2

Saturday, November 22 the hope and expectation that after a prolonged dry spell, the heavens would open and 1 to 2 inches of rain would fall upon the heads and windshields of those in North Texas.  Coincidentally, we received a text from Grant that he would leave Columbia, Missouri on Saturday and drive to Dallas with his girlfriend, Kailene.  Where she would rendezvous with her family, driving up from Houston area.  This would save Kailene airfare and (though unsaid) make the 9 hour drive for Grant more pleasant than usual.

We arranged to all meet at Cantina Laredo.  Grant suggested a reservation time of 6:30.  Then, later in the afternoon a text arrived saying that the reservation should be moved to 7 PM.  The dinner participants were to arrive two by two through the down pouring rain.  Elder Sunesons were first to arrive - as it should be.  We skipped through parking lot puddles and falling drops and were seated at the reserved table.  A few minutes later, Greg and Glenda arrived with son Connor (High School Junior), thus throwing off my two-by-two theme.  But, we welcomed Connor in with the rest.  We exchanged pleasantries and basic information as the Mom's checked their phones for updated texts on the ETA for the final pair.  Around 7:30, Grant and Kailene walked in and exchanged hugs all around and we sat for dinner.  Most ordered tacos and enchiladas, but I opted for the superior carne asada.  None better than Cantina Laredo's.

It was a good time.  Fine folks all.  We parted ways after Kailene unloaded her laptop, clothing and voluminous homework.  It is a 4 hour return trip to Houston home base for Kailene's family. 

The next day we all began to settle into the Thanksgiving Break routine.  Grant had some work for an online class to complete as well as some dialog adjustments to make as part of his screen writing class.  Grant says we could read his screen play if we want, but did not seem over eager to share his work.  I understand.  He did warn his mom, the plot is "R rated".  I understand.

Meanwhile, back at home for 5 days, he catches up on free laundry (!), homework, and spends a day with a friend.  He plans to have Thanksgiving meal with us (requested it to be served early, ~1 PM) and then drive back to Columbia Thursday night to be able to watch the final Missouri Tigers home game vs Arkansas Razorbacks on Friday afternoon.  A Mizzou win means the Tigers win the SEC Conference East Division, and will play Alabama for the Conference championship in Atlanta the following week.  Missouri comes from behind and outscores Arkansas 21 to 14.  Gridiron joy for Grant's senior year.

All arrived two-by-two, but Grant left solo.  He will pick up Kailene at the Kansas City airport when she flies in from Houston on Sunday.  We have given thanks, and everyone goes back to their appointed places and waits for Christmas.

Grant works on his ever-present lap top
while home for Thanksgiving 

A Dead Night of the Dead

Halloween.  As I have documented hear in years past, a favorite of mine.

For 2014, Halloween, the Night of the Dead, All Hallows Eve.  A night when the ancients believed that the world of the living drew so very close to the mystery that is the world of the dead.  In fact, so close that it was possible that spirits from the "other world" could cross over into the world of the living.  A night to seek shelter and to watch your soul.

I never know what to expect; but this year Halloween was on a Friday.  Also the weather was clear and very pleasant.  Should be a good turn out, right?

At my house, I put on a pretty good show.  I make those trick-or-treaters earn their candy.  I put up the usual large spider and web in front of the porch light.

My Halloween spider is ready to crawl down and
pounce on visitors who turn their back to
the danger on my porch.

I was late in getting the rest of the set ready, but I left work early in the afternoon to enclose the entry hall in white sheets hanging from rope lines.  I set up a small table with a 5 burning candles on a silver candelabra, plus a grinning skull also lit with a candle in the cranium.  I had an ax in a chopping block surrounded by bloody rags.  The night before I had poured pink Jello into a brain mold and put the brain on a plate that covered the bowl of candy beneath it.

This year I donned a white gauzy skull mask and cloaked myself in a black robe and a black cape.  My plan was to stick my skull masked head between the white sheets, almost unnoticeable in the back of the hall and hide my dark body behind the sheets.  Once a victim wandered up to the porch and rang the bell, I would gargle gutterally and violently throw apart the sheets and appear before them to quiz them as to why they disturbed the dead.

I was just getting set up at 6:40 (still light outside) when the Mario Brothers came calling.  Did not really have a chance to put on the full theatrical production.  Then I waited and waited and waited.  Finally Jayden, the neighbor kid behind us, came by with his whole family.  He knew what to expect from previous years, so he was bit jaded.  Grandma took a couple of photos on her iPhone before they moved on.  Next was a couple of kids that paused in front of the house and stared in to the spooky candle-lit hall scene.  They said, "Oh, this is the house!".  Dad then said, "We're not going to stop and debate this time.  OK, just keep going."  Mom, suggested that maybe they should go up to see what happens.  Instead (nobody listens to Mom), they quickly walked past.  Mom shouted into the open door, "I love your house every year, but my kids are always chicken.  Sorry."
After a long wait, the little girl from next door was carried by her father up the front walk.  "See, it is only Mr. Mark, he won't scare you.  Here we come Mr. Mark.  Now, he won't scare you."  Drat.  That was it.  I had 5 bags of good candy and only 4 customers.  This Halloween Night is DEAD.  

I had a good show ready.  I was going to offer everyone "a piece of my mind" as I held out the Jello brain.  After they turned me down, I would then offer then a nice "e-bowl-a  [Ebola] candy".  I even thought I might make the gold standard this year, a pants-wetting event.

Finally at 8:20, Sue, who placed the Papa Singh Take-n-Bake pizza in the oven.  I disrobed down to basic dark sweats and a T-shirt, blew out the candles in the jack-o-lanterns and took down the sheets, extinguished the candelabra and turned off the porch light.  Three bites into the pizza, the bell rings at 8:40.  I get up from the well lit dinning room, flip on the porch light and hand out a piece of candy to a Raggedy Anne high school girl.  I turn off the light and go back to dinner.  One or two bites later, there is some Seuss character at my door.  He gets a piece of candy.  I douse the porch light again.  Almost immediately, 9 Asian girls come to say "Happy Halloween".  I scowl, then one of the more acculturated ones tries out, "Trick or Treat".  That brings out the candy bowl and I ask them if they want to touch my e-bowl-a candy?  One girl laughs at the pun, and I giver two packets of M&M's.  But no one got to see the full scale production and no one wet their pants.

This Night of the Dead was really D-E-A-D.

I went pumpkin shopping at the last minute, the evening of October 30.  But I found pumpkins for 99 cents each.  I wanted to buy all they had at these prices.  But I decided on just four.  They were carved late in the afternoon of October 31.

Gruesome Grouper
Hiding in the corner of the porch

Lantern Jaw
A toothsome watcher from the bushes

The Madisons, Jack and Dolly
Host family along the front walk

Red to Yellow - Kill a Fellow

Memorization has fallen out of favor.  I hear the cry of the newly enlightened, "Don't teach to the test", "true education is not about memorizing a set of dates and facts".  I understand these broader points of the enlightened.  Never-the-less, I find their is a distinct pleasure in having memorized some bedrock facts and holding them indelibly in one's memory for years.  These items committed to memory may one day come from the dim reaches of the mind to serve you well.

A few years back I decided to commit to memory Poe's wonderful poem, Eldorado.  That simple task of holding poetry for its own sake was satisfying merely in its own right.  And yes, I have a few salient points of theology committed to memory from the Gospels and The Book of Romans, among other Bible verses.  But going back to my first love, reptiles and amphibians, I was a first grade scholar on such matters, especially the snakes.  I dwelt on snakes and all things serpent. I fantasized about snakes.  Their brilliant and beautiful skins, their strikint, coiling, climbing, and constricting.  It was all part of a marvelous world that kept me facinated for some years.

As I read through every 'Reptile and Amphibian' book stocked in the Rancho Elementary library and most of the tomes from the city library, I became well versed in the debunking of the many fearful myths surrounding the snake and without even trying I absorbed many facts.  I fear I've now forgotten more snake lore and knowledge than I can now readily recall.  But, at least one memorized fact has remained:

Red to Yellow - Kill a Fellow

Red to Black - Venom Lack (He's all right Jack)

This simple mnemonic was handy in differentiating the oder of the color bands between the venomous Coral Snake, and the non-venomous Scarlet King Snake.

Coral Snake: Red touches Yellow to Kill a Fellow

To me, the Scarlet King was the most treasured specimen I could hope to spot and capture.  Many a silent wish for the capture of a Scarlet King preceded the blowing out of the burning candles atop my birthday cakes; "this year let me catch a Scarlet King Snake" was my fervent, but unrequited plea.

While in the woods of East Texas of Labor Day, it was reported that a small Coral snake was spotted outside the house under some oak trees.  I rushed to search, and among the three of us men, we found this beautiful creature weaving under dead leaves and followed him as he pulled himself above the dust and up the coarse bark of the oak.

Sure enough, "red to yellow" easily dropped from the dim reaches of my memory and was there on my tongue to correctly identify this bedazzling specimen.  Though venomous, he was way too small to be remotely a threat and even if he was much larger, say 2 feet, I recall being told that a Coral Snake would almost have to gnaw on you in order to inject enough neural toxin to do you any harm.  I treasured the experience at having met him, took a few fan photos and allowed him to depart in peace, wishing him all the best and a long life.