Wassail, traveler, and welcome to The Gable Grey -- a place of retreat, of renewal, and of resistance: a tree-shaded refuge in Dark Times. Now pass the threshold, and rest from journeys! For a cold wind is blowing; and here, if you wish, you may hear tidings of the world without...

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Halloween 2010

Pre-Trick 'r' Treat Inventory.  Note apparent lack of enthusiasm.

Witchy stockings:  check.

Equipment check complete.  Ready for departure.

Wait long enough to take a picture in our house, and there will invariably be a cat in it, somewhere.

Any lingering doubts that her father will have no trouble in the coming years can now be summarily dismissed.

Witch and Witch-wrangler #1.

Witch:  "You're embarrassing me, Mommy."
Witch-wrangler:  "Smile or I'm gonna beat you over the head with that broom."

Witch and strange, friendly alien.  (Footwear is not per Starfleet regulations.)

Alien would not leave, possibly being stuck in temporal causality loop.

Huffy witch.

Witch and witch-wrangler in action.  Witch's apparent fearlessness up to that point evaporated quickly.

Alien wandering aimlessly among the immature Earthlings.

Soon afterward, I was accosted by what appeared to be a large walking mound of moss, which informed me, "You know the red shirt always gets killed first, right?", and somewhat later by a hipster dufus (who was probably named TeeEye or TeeBee) who kept saying "Computer!  Computer!"

What a world, what a world.

Yep, time to head back to base.

Hope everyone had a happy Halloween.  Wassail.  -- C.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Whiles carried o'er the iron road,
We hurry by some fair abode;
The garden bright amidst the hay,
The yellow wain upon the way,
The dining men, the wind that sweeps
Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps --
The gable grey, the hoary roof,
Here now -- and now so far aloof.
How sorely then we long to stay
And midst its sweetness wear the day,
And 'neath its changing shadows sit,
And feel ourselves a part of it.
Such rest, such stay, I strove to win
With these same leaves that lie herein.

-- William Morris, from
"The Roots of the Mountains"