Let them eat corn syrup…

 

“Oooo…..” Monsters and goblins and ghouls, oh my! Today’s the day,- the day we subsidize Iowa. The day children everywhere overturn the reasonable response scenario and threaten their way into glorious excess… 

Go kiddlins! 

I love what Halloween smells like. Have you ever noticed that? The air turns in October- and there’s a specifically Halloweeny smell to this time of year.

That would have been more poetic without the Halloweeny bit. But I *know* you know what I’m talking about. Sometime, late October, I’ve seen people stop and just sniff at it. The smoke, cool, and damp leaf smell. They stand for a sec, looking for something tucked into the subconscious… there it is: There’s a little Halloween in there.

Yawp!

I am SO EXCITED.

Yes! Credit where credit’s due- first I’m excited because after buying a hodge-podge of items I didn’t know what to do with, David Rochester gave me the idea to dress up as Puss-in-Boots.

 O Solo Meow!  I had gotten a cape, a dagger, kitty ears (Sierra’s idea), a  Zorro type mask, and some costume makeup. (By the time I got around to  it, a lot of the costume supplies at the local Wal-mart were depleted)  

(I don’t usually shop at Wal-mart, btw. I feel compelled to tell you that.)

 (In fact, I never, ever do. Except to buy pillows. They have freakishly cheap  pillows, and I am a picky pillow person. Please don’t judge too harshly,  even Savonarola would sell out for a good night’s sleep.)

 It took David’s idea to see how those items might work together. Inspired!

I’m very excited because it’s the end of October,  which means the first of November, which means Dia de los Muertos! The day of the dead! That’s when the veil lifts, and you can commune with your home-boy spirits. They like sugar and marigolds. *nods*

 

And November 1st, – Lazy Buddhist, Jules, Corina, Jaynova, we all know what that means. *flexes fingers*

Last year’s Day of the Dead blog post became one of the highest traffic spots ever on Stop and Wander, so I don’t want to move it. I contemplated posting it again. Not sure. Meeting word count will probably take precedence tomorrow, so here’s the link.  

Days of the Dead: A Celebration

Build an ofrenda! Eat some candy! Post a picture of your costumed ribalding!

And have you all a very Happy Halloween.

 

“ooooo…”

A day in the…

…life? sun? breeze? fucked-up hoopla? You decide. Here are some pictures, scenes from the 804 trail in Yachats. (Even though it looks like the sound you’d make hacking up a hairball, Yachats is pronounced ‘Ya-hawts’)

What’s cute is you’ve got this ominous sign posted, right before you walk along a benign foot-path right out of a Disney movie. I think they’re just trying to screen out the timorous sea-peepers.

The fairest way to describe this stretch of coast-line is ‘retardedly picturesque’.

 

As always, click to enlarge what you want to enlarge. (Wouldn’t it be cool if you could do that in real life?)

Let’s play a little game called, ‘Find the sea-penis!’. If you ever owned a movie poster from ‘The Little Mermaid‘, you already know how to play.

No luck? There ya go. I’m like your genie of the phallus. Just… don’t… rub anything.

This little cove, just one of many inlets to discover tucked along the 804.

Jonathon Livingston, I presume?

Always end with just a *splash* of color.

Adieu.

 

Taking the long view

The sky’s a funny color this morning. I’ve had a bout of shyness writing wise- been writing a lot but not wanting to post it, or keep it posted. I’m sure that’ll get worked through.

Trying to catch hold of October before it’s completely gone. I’ve mostly missed it. This has always been my favorite month. It’s also a month that has tended to miss any bad stuff. Half the calendar has bad anniversaries. September- well, you know what happened to September. But October has had a perfect record.

Not now. But you know what? Okay. Thirty good Octobers is pretty good. If you love something (even a month) you gotta stop requiring at some point that it be perfect. 

Been looking so forward to the *end* of this one- because of NaNoWriMo, and also because my favorite holiday is November 1st, Los Dios de Los Muertos, but maybe I shouldn’t rush through these last three days. I’m going to make them my October. Go walking. Wear the bulky sweaters. Not as excited about the hot cocoa part because I’ve been living on tea, but … popcorn! Monopoly and popcorn in the big dark. And of course, we’ve still got Halloween.

Sierra is going with a friend this year, I took them last year so that’s fine. We’ll still do the uber-sorting at home. Ritual, you know. The candy doesn’t really count until it’s been put in it’s specific pile, and counted, and compared to other brands, and generally hoarded over.

That’s important. 

Thank you, btw, to people who continue to read through the odd bits on the blog. I appreciate it. I have really good online friends here, and Imtay of course-

he’s busy, and gone quiet, but he’s still there, moderating comments when I don’t have a chance to, or just generally listening when I can’t make anything but bizarre creature sounds.

I wish I could give you all a country, or at least an archipelago of pretty islands. *nods*

Well, it’s 8:11am- and my October awaits.

Two more verses

Silence, it has a meaning;
you are controlling the way I’m feeling;
and there’s a danger you’ll wake a liar.

Is it worth the pain to see?

Mmmm… desire

In the quiet my body’s turning:
There is anger, and there is yearning.
Do I speak? Or bank like ashes?
Precious faith, it comes in flashes..

Will you walk me through the fire?

Desire.

past and future

 

Declaration of independence

I’m DONE being sick, and I’m DONE being droopy, and i’m DONE dripping mucous from every blasted pore.

Could someone please direct my body to reflect this change in status? Thank you.

Nesting ground of the infinite snot monster.

Another aside

I get quite a few readers from the weirdest of my past wordpress tags. Every week someone wanders in here referred by ‘muppet-sex’ or ‘lesbian twins’.

 

Boy, I’ll bet they’re disappointed.

Let it rain

Bring the dark. Let a steady curtain of water swallow  the universe up. Let the seagulls hunker down, the tourists, pink and yellow pin-points, standing tentative far from the sea-mouth move away until there are no people, just the steady acceptance of sand receiving ocean.

Isn’t it time that sand gave back to sea?

Enough. Let there be such darkness that my eyelids long to open up clouds, struggling off silt in the memory of mind. Let there be the soft dark, the relentless patter of elements that don’t give in to human yearning. Let there be sounds more enduring than thunder.

Let there be rain.

My skin can drink the sky, my lungs won’t matter. I am not components but a part of the tree and earth and world that grind under the weight of human burden. We are destroyed, each of us, demolished by an onslaught of needing home.

Give out to the rain.

To the dark. To the tender comfort of being a good thing that nonetheless erodes.

be the ball

O the Energy of Fleghm

Whoops, here I go complaining. It’s true though, that a certain volume of snotty stuff keeps you on your toes. You hafta cough, clear, swallow, wake, rise, drink- to stay ahead of the stuff.

As my inner mucous finally lets up a little, I’m taking on brick-like qualities. Waking up today was more offensive than usual. I took three solid swipes at it, and feel unsure even now if the final try will take. 

i wanna sleep.

Ever heard the words, ‘roll with the punches’? What the hell does that mean? It makes me think of Cardammom buns floating in a fruit-punch nightmare.

That’s an aside.

I don’t know what’s happening in the nation. I don’t know about the last debates, or what crazy thing Palin last said, or if Wall Street ended up or down this week. Mucous energy is an apathetic life source. It only gets excited about really good tea.

Girly-girl is home in one piece. They came home late-late. I couldn’t figure out if she had a grand time or not. She had the glassy-eyed exhaustion thing going on. Someone hid her gameboy, and I couldn’t figure out if this was a prank or a tease done in companionable good nature. The other kid gave it back. I hate those moments of irresoluteness in parenthood, standing beside the bus, not sure if a situation warrants you should kick down doors or laugh it off. I could just find the perpetrator and breathe on her right now- 

but I took Sierra home and fed her. She seems fine. Cranky. Overly tall. I guess the world isn’t ending.

I’ve passed her into the hands of grandparents today with some story about chores and errands. It’s not impossible that I’ll do something, but right now I want to curl up in a diseased little ball and sleep off the blechiness of the last few days. Or weeks.

Or somethin’.

 

Sickly Moose Blogcast

 

dedicated to Mad’s tummy