Gobble!

Good afternoon, gentle readers!
As I'm writing this, the sun is pouring through my bedroom window and I have a load of laundry going in the washing machine. The combination of the two, plus the addition of a softly purring laptop, makes me feel incredibly homey.
The only thing missing is the smell of apple pie drifting up from the kitchen.
But there will be time for apple pie later this week.
Yes, it's THAT time of year again. Thanksgiving.  That time of the year when Americans, like moi, gather with friends and family around the dinner table and pretty much eat ourselves into oblivion. Turkey and ham are traditional fare. Stuffing and cranberry sauce are practically de rigeur. Then there are the vegetables: mashed potatoes, baked beans, corn-on-the-cob, peas, perhaps a nice salad. Finally, there is the desert. Or deserts, in some cases. Pie is probably more traditional than cake, but I've known people who serve ice cream sundaes or homemade peanut butter milkshakes. Desert is where you can go a bit nuts.
Yes, that's the traditional Thanksgiving Day feast.
I grew up eating big dinners like that with my parents, grandparents and cousins.
These days?
It's just me.
I have pizza.
Pizza with a bit of garlic bread on the side and a glass of rum & coke.
Thanksgiving, now that I think about it, is the one holiday, aside from New Year's Eve, when I usually have a drink.
Sometimes, I might have a slice of apple pie or a bit of carrot cake.
But that's it.
Thanksgiving, for me, is not a holiday of excess. I call my family, post something nice on social media to my followers, and then eat pizza while watching bad movies.  I don't even watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade any more.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the holiday. I think it's nice to get together with the people you love. But you shouldn't need a holiday to do it.
And, really, these days, I'm not a big eater.  I might even forgo my traditional pizza for something lighter.  Maybe a turkey sandwich w/a nice salad.
But I'm not giving up the pie.
You can take the pie when you pry the fork from my cold, dead hand.

VOTE

DOCTOR STRANGE

I went and saw Doctor Strange the other night and thought it was okay.
Just okay.
Like most of the Marvel movies have been 'just okay.'
On a scale of 1 to 5, I'd give it a solid 3.
And that, gentle readers, is somewhat disappointing to me.
To me, Doctor Strange felt like any other Marvel movie. And it really shouldn't have, because while the other movies and their characters have mostly been grounded in Science Fiction or Fantasy, Doctor Strange should have fallen more into the Horror category.
Since the character deals with threats from beyond the universe, you would think the producer/director would have gone for a more Lovecraftian vibe. Instead, they went for a weirdly generic origin story with generous lashings of kung-fu and a slim veneer of generic magic.
Don't get me wrong. I think it's definitely worth paying full price to see, but I think it could have been so much better.

Something for Halloween...

A dark cave. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.
Thunder. 
Enter the three Witches

First Witch 
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Second Witch 
Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

Third Witch 
Harpier cries "'Tis time, 'tis time."

First Witch 
Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

All
Double, double, toil and trouble; (10)
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch 
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

All
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Third Witch 
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe (30)
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

All
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch 
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

[Enter Hecate, to the other three Witches]

Hecate
O well done! I commend your pains;
And every one shall share i' the gains;
And now about the cauldron sing,
Live elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

[Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' etc, Hecate retires]

Second Witch 
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!

Hashtag Poetry

Hashtag poetry
sits out there in empty space,
waiting to be found.

Like a lonely child,
abandoned at a Wal-Mart,
waiting to be loved.

Hashtag poetry.
Just there. Drifting. Silent. Still.
Waiting just for you.