Once upon a time, there was a vile creature who lived in the high mountains, a place where he could look down upon all others. He was enormously wealthy but it was never enough-he always coveted what someone else had-and felt that because of who he was, he deserved to have it.
He lived alone except for a ever-suffering yet slavish mutt named Tiny, who loved wearing thick-framed red glasses like talk show host Sally Jessy Raphael. He was cruel to Tiny yet being a dog, Tiny took the abuse and convinced himself it was his duty to serve and endure whatever his master meted out.
It is said he was a heartless creature but he indeed had a heart-black was its color and it took high magnification to actually see it.
His neighbors to the South were the Whos, cheerful beings that loved to party especially during the Winter holidays. He hated the Whos, with their community and empathy. And they were noisy-oh dear God, he hated their noise, noise, noise. And their singing-singing their stupid songs and playing with their stupid machines which of course were noisy as well.
One Winter, he had had enough and despite the fact they were a sovereign nation, he felt he had the right to do whatever he wished to them. It was getting near Christmas Eve as he sat in his cave with Tiny and brooded and plotted: I'll fix their wagon once and for all and then I can have some peace and quiet. He knew from the past that the Who would party, feast and drink themselves into a stupor. At this point, he and Tiny would take their sleigh down and steal everything! He loved to ruin things especially those that others valued. His favorite pastime was to whip out his tiny penis (like his heart, you had to use high magnification to find it) and pee on things. He loved writing his name in white snow, his rich golden urine staining its purity.
So it was on the early hours of Christmas Day, the creature and his dog drove down into Whoville, stole and defiled everything they could and headed back to the cave.
Once safely home, he got a hold of his loyal buddy Pete who had a Air Force and asked him to bomb Whoville. Pete hated ferriners as well, especially those weak, woke Whos. Pete lead the mission himself and soon, Whoville was turned into a smokey ruin.
Some Who survived and were seen struggling to flee into the surrounding mountains. Pete led another attack and killed them all, flying off in a victory roll.
And here my friends, the story ends. No joy, no redemption. Just the rich and powerful getting away with their crimes as they always have. However, throughout history people have revolted against them and I think it's time for it to happen again, to repair what has been ruined and to begin work on a better country, for all.
12/7-12/8 Overnight on the 8th it was -1° at the airport, +3 at our house.
Chickadee and finch at breakfast:
Our woodland gnomes are buried:
The sun came out-looks like January:
Cold evening:
The deer have become frequent visitors to the Diner-we are part of their foraging route that takes them to the other Diners in the neighborhood-Benny's to the East and John and Michelle's across the street. One early morning, newcomers Mom and her triplets stopped by:
While at the same time, our usual Mom and her twins were browsing by the pool and East Garden:
The two tribes saw each other without issue-the Mom and triplets went East along the berm while our trio went over across the street.
That evening, they returned. Here's Mom:
At least the sun has come out now and again but it's still nippy.
Lil' Woody:
LG:
The Diner had a couple of holiday specials at the buffet-one time only, while supplies last: C had some bread that had gone stale so she soaked it in some almond milk and nuked it. That got snarfled by someone. I had some gingerbread dough left over about the size of a golf ball and put it out. LG enjoyed it:
I returned 5 minutes later and he had dragged it off somewhere!
One of the young Nutkins likes to come up on the planters next to the deck:
12/16-this afternoon we got home after picking C up from the U. We both were settling into our offices when she gave me a holler: 3 deer were under her window! By the time I grabbed my camera, only one remained-one of the twins:
They were foraging around the leaves surrounding the planters. Winter rations I suppose. It reminded me of the "starvation bread" from Sweden called barkbrod, made in part with ground birch tree bark.
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Buddy hanging out with the tree-this is his third xmas with us and like our other cats, enjoys this annual appearance. Thank goodness, he isn't a climber-none of our cats were climbers either. We think they like the piney scent-a bit of the great outdoors, inside.
Buddy is approaching a milestone where he has spent more than half of his young life with us. We hope for many more years together Buddy-roo!
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More milestones:
12/13-Dick Van Dyke turned 100 years old!
12/16-250th anniversary of the birth of Jane Austin
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Animated short Vibrantea from 2023:
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How the moon is viewed from different parts on the planet:
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Charles Dickens had a pet raven named Grip and featured him in the novel Barnaby Rudge. Edgar Allan Poe read the book and wrote Dickens the bird outta talk. Within a year, it does in the famous Poe piece The Raven. Grip died in 1841 and Dickens had his remains taxidermied. C has seen Grip at the Rare Book Department of theParkway Central Library in Philadelphia.
Landmine killer:
FUBARland:
The regime's Anti-DEI/Anti-Biden challenges reach new absurd/petty/stupid heights:
Following a NYT article about his failing health, the Roach raged about it and suggested it’s ‘treasonous’ to report he’s in bad physical shape. Considering the amount of air travel he does, perhaps he should take up his Secretary of Transportation Sean Duffy's suggestion that there should be exercise stations at airports.
We watched some All in the Family after Reiner's murder. That era came rushing back: the racism, the hatred of hippies and the controlling and disrespectful nature of men towards women (including their "beloved" wives). And one could not help but think that here on the screen was a precursor to MAGA and their white male working class grievances. Gawd.
12/4-5: arctic blast visits with overnight low of +7°. Seems more like January with a stiff eye-watering breeze.
DHS's outdoor forays often are to go out on the front or back porches where it is dry for 10 minutes, then time to come back in for a snack from his Dad:
One evening as we were closing up for the night, a pair of Buns at the Diner:
The last full moon of the year: Cold Moon
12/5: St. Nicholas Day Eve: C was buried with end of term work so I went and got the tree by myself. It was brisky but I was well bundled up, complete with a balaklava. No, I am not auditioning for an ICE job, lol. I found a small, yet rotund tree-it was oddly slim pickens out there this year-most trees were tall and skinny. Sheesh, the ozempic craze has made it to the frasier fir community? I put it up and got the lights on it for a fun ambience when we gathered around the hearth in the evening. We'll have our annual trimming party the following afternoon-vegan chex mix (yep, Whole Foods has vegan W sauce!), the Nutcracker ballet with Baryshnikov on the Tube, a nice fire going and a few drams of Mother's Milk aka Drambuie.
MamaDoe and her girls stopped by the Diner:
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A rare bird: A yellow male Northern Cardinal photographed in Alabama in 2018. His coloration is due to a genetic mutation called xanthism, which occurs perhaps once in a million births.
Orange Shark: Discovered earlier this year off coast of Costa Rica:
Cool creative stuff:
Shah Cheragh, Shiraz Iran:
From Wiki: The Shah Cheragh is a Twelver Shi'ite funerary monument and
religious complex located in Shiraz, in the province of Fars, Iran. The
12th-century complex is centred around the mausoleum of Sayyid Ahmad,
the son of Musa al-Kazim, who is known as Shah Cheragh in local
traditions, and hence the building's name. The interior is unusual with mosaics of mirrored glass.
Dedicated to Goddess Naga Devatha (Serpent Goddess) and Lord Narasimha.
Basket Building, Newark, OH:
This was the headquarters for the Longaberger Company, which sold handcrafted baskets and home goods.The company closed its operations in 2018, and the building has been vacant since. Its new owners are evaluating choices for redevelopment.
Creepy Demon hand bookmarks:
For sale on Amazon. Perhaps Bezos was the model.
Book benches in Bulgaria:
Balancing sculpture by Polish artistJerzy Kędziora c. 1990s:
He is known for his gravity-defying public art thanks to his Balancing Sculptures installed around the world.
Ghost Sculptures Lake Como, Italy:
On the hills above the village of Varenna sits the Vezio Castle, which was built between the late 11th and early 12th centuries.These ghosts of Vezio are plaster casts made by the managers of the
castle each year. Tourists volunteer to have plaster fitted to them,
which are used to create these ghostly figures. They are then left to
the elements throughout the winter until a new season begins and the
ghosts are cast anew.
Food and kitchen stuff:
Broccoli stem sculpted to look like fish by Japanese artist Gaku:
Best use of this veggie I have ever seen (not a fan, but better than brussels sprouts-shudder).
Loch Ness ladles:
Have a wee Nessie in yer kitchen! (she doesn't bite)
Octopus mug holder:
Brilliant packaging-Good Hair Day pasta brand from Greenomics:
Piano cutting board:
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All about Drambuie:
Drambuie
is a golden-coloured, 40% ABV liqueur made from Scotch whisky, heather
honey, herbs and spices. The brand was owned by the MacKinnon family for
100 years, and was bought by William Grant & Sons in 2014.
The Story: In 1745, Prince Charles
Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) brought a secret recipe for a
personal elixir to Scotland during his failed rebellion.After his defeat at the Battle of Culloden in 1746, he was aided by the Clan MacKinnon on the Isle of Skye.As a reward for their help, he reportedly gifted the recipe to Clan leader John MacKinnon.
The name "Drambuie" comes from the Scottish Gaelic phrase an dram buidheach, which translates to "the drink that satisfies".
My connection: my Mom turned me onto this drink. It was a staple in their liquor cabinet. I always figured this was a nod to our McPherson ancestors but recently I found that drambuie is a main ingredient in a classic cocktail: the rusty nail. The recipe is usually 1:1 combo of scotch and drambuie served on the rocks.It had significant popularity in the 1950s and 1960s, notably as a favorite of
Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack. My folks were huge fans of Ole Blue Eyes and his crew so I now wonder if her appreciation was a two-fer.
Readers of Haluski will remember my moniker for drambuie in the Christmas Eve chats with my cats is mother's milk. I hasten to point out that I refer not literally to my Mom but to the slang meaning of something essential or deeply enjoyed.😼
Related: In Norse/Viking/Celtic/Irish traditions, a bride and groom were toasted with the drink of mead, an alcoholic beverage made of fermented honey. Brides were instructed to begin drinking mead but for a full lunar cycle afterward, a tradition believed to boost
fertility, ensure prosperity, ward off evil spirits (fairies!), and is
the likely origin of the term "honeymoon". The bride's father often
provided this month's supply, making it central to celebrating the new
union and hoping for conception, especially sons.
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Fun Vids
2 views of the sun:
A blissful tortoise:
Prehistoric Wollemi Pine, Australia-extremely rare species with less than 100 individuals left-location is kept secret:
World's tallest sandcastle, Germany:
Oldest human settlement in America-Oregon-roughly 18,000-20,000 years ago: Ancient camel teeth!
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FUBARland:
From 1969-Fairport Convention Genesis Hall:
My father he rides with your sheriffs And I know he would never mean harm But to see both sides of a quarrel Is to judge without hate or alarm
Oh, oh, helpless and snow And you don't have anywhere to go
You take away homes from the homeless And leave them to die in the cold The gypsy who begged for your presents He will laugh in your face when you're old
Oh, oh, helpless and snow And you don't have anywhere to go
Well, one man he drinks up his whisky Another he drinks up his wine And they'll drink till their eyes are red with hate For those of a different kind
Oh, oh, helpless and snow And you don't have anywhere to go
When the rivers run thicker than trouble I'll be there at your side in the flood It was all I could do to keep myself From taking revenge on your blood
Oh, oh, helpless and snow And you don't have anywhere to go Oh, oh, helpless and snow And you don't have anywhere to go
LG enjoying some thanksgiving peanuts-he's really bulked up:
Inside, we had a simple meal featuring a savory strudel as the main course:
The filling was a mushroom/leek base flavored with tarragon. C's had vegan boursin cheese added, mine had chicken and mozzarella cheese. Served with dressing, roasted asparagus and a tarragon/garlic gravy flavored with garam masala. Dessert was vegan dark chocolate/hazelnut bites.
11/29-before the snow arrived: it was pretty busy at the Diner. A young nutkin:
Once the snow came, only the avians were dining-everyone else went home to hunker down. It was curious how slow and gradual this storm was in these parts. A mellow storm.
11/30: we ended up with 5-6" of snow-wet and heavy as it was 32° at 5 am.
The Diner was busy:
The Turkey Bros. were out and about:
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11/28: 100th anniversary of the founding of the Grand Ole Opry, a weekly, live radio broadcast in Nashville, TN.
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End of a giant: it was reported in the LSJ that Sears only has 5 stores left in the US.
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12/1: 70th anniversary of Rosa Parks refusing to give up her seat to a white passenger.
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A well-done cookie:
Every once and a while, one comes across a good baker who creates a chocolate chip cookie that hits all the four corners of flavor, in this order:
-brown butter
-sweet
-chocolate
-dough
C finds these at the ELFCO located at the Allen Street Market. One helluva cookie-rich and satisfying-you really don't need more than one. It's like a fine spirit, consumed in small quantities.
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Earliest known depiction of human and animal found in Israel from 12,000 years ago:
I've been noticing a new Coca-Cola ad campaign reviving Mr. Pibb in the classic "new and improved" path "centering on its return with a "revived taste,: 30% more caffeine, and a bold new look and brand identity." Mr. Pibb entered the soda market in 1972 as a competitor to Dr. Pepper.
Frankly, I had no idea Pibb was still around. But then, I never cared for Dr. Pepper to begin with.
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Surreal vid: In The Death Car from the soundtrack from the 1993 film Arizona Dream. Music by Goran Bregović featuring vocals and lyrics by Iggy Pop, channeling his inner Tom Waits.
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mADmen: Conquering First World problems by putting a sheet on it, will take care of that little static monster that your basic fabric softener sheet can't handle:
Clever, though my morbid imagination immediately went here with the tagline pun:
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The problem with ChatGPT: I've been working on illustrations using this program and have learned a lot about its capabilities. In particular, one must be very precise when giving a command but even so, robot hallucinations will happen. Case in point: I was working on an image featuring a number of woodland creatures, both feather and fur, gathered together under a tree. Two problems: the robot's work was fairly accurate except for a bizarre cardinal hybrid who had a squirrel's tail! (red circle) Also, the critters were not in correct proportion in size with each other-the squirrel (blue circle) is huge, larger than the raccoon. This was my fault as I did not include this in my order although one would have thought that this would be a given. The image:
After seeing this, I shudder when I read that government, businesses, schools and lawyers (oh boy) are using ChatGPT. They better proofread carefully!
