WALKING ON THIN ICE

lost our mystery 24/7 wifi connection at the love shack out back. don’t know where it comes from. don’t know where it went. hope it just went away for thanksgiving and will be back sassy and full fed.

so blogging and answering and commenting and emailing and forth so may or may not be regular from here on in.

same will be true when we head south of the border in 20 days - blogs may or may not be blogged.

been thinking of cutting back anyway - this daily blogging is ego driven . . . no one has something important or worthy or even interesting to say every day. it’s more for us, so we have a text and image track of our travel and life adventures.

on the other gland, outside of being with lady, nothing brings me more pleasure than writing - all the time. i think, i ponder, i brood, i write - it’s what i am.

heading out to lady’s parents for thanksgiven dinner. i got rid of all my relatives - close family died off and i fled all the rest - so what do i do but marry a lady with relatives coming out the y’all-hole.

here’s my food poem for today - you’ve seen it before but it fits again.

Confessions of a Conservative

Let others munch spare frogslegs and things
Or their mother’s tidbits so fine.
Not me.
I prefer wee bumblebee wings
With a pipe of blueberry wine.
I’ve no desire for porcupine stew
Aunts coated in chocolate yea thick
Fried crocodile
Ala flayed caribou
Or some other chef’s table trick.
A simple table whenever I dine.
Not mine all these modern cuisines.
I’m quite satisfied with blueberry wine
And old fashioned bumblebee wings.