The Smells of the Season

Damn, I missed posting yesterday. Either I'll post a second one today, or I'll just admit I'm not perfect and move on with my day after this. We'll see. Anyway!

Last night, Lithus and I were sitting, chatting, when the faint aroma of pine drifted through. It was right on the heels of the "autumn scented" candle we had lit. It stopped me mid-sentence. That's the smell I've been missing in my home since we left Vancouver five years ago.

Christmas and winter and Yule and family and warmth and cold and snow and crackling fires and dry leaves and all those things that mean the holidays ~ from one waft of the fan.

Our little tree on top of our table continues to make me deliriously happy.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Story of the Tree

Earlier today, we got a call from our front desk letting us know there was a package downstairs for us. Lithus has ordered me a present already, so we thought we knew what it was. At one point, while we were coming through the lobby, we stopped for the package.

And the desk guy wheels out this 6-foot package. It wasn't my present. Lithus and I looked at each other, to the package, to each other. I said "I didn't order this." He said "I didn't order this." We double-checked the address label. To The Boston Pobble and Lithus. At which point, Lithus, who was holding onto the box, says "it's a tree. I can smell it."

So, we took it upstairs, lopped the end off where it said to lop the end of, and unboxed ~ a Christmas tree. 

The only person we could think who might have done it was my mother. I called her and, even before I had said hello to her husband who answered her phone, said "Did you send us a tree?" Nope. Not them. But I could check with mom, just in case. Yep...

And no, mom assured me they hadn't sent the tree. I said "I thought it might have been you because you know we were going to put it on the dining table and this one is small, to fit the dining table. But we had decided not to get one, so I thought you might have sent it." 

And the pieces fell into place. 

To which Mom replied, "You hadn't told me you weren't getting it." But before I could say anything, she followed with "Who did you tell?"

Because by then, I knew.

Starbuck. I had told Starbuck. We had planned on getting a tree. Then blah blah blah reasons had decided not to. But none of those reasons were about not wanting a tree. Or about it being a poor decision to have a tree. So she, crazy, insane, amazing, Starbuck, sent a tree.

Sure enough...

What do you say when someone decides there is no way you are going without a tree this year and sends a freaking tree? It's the greatest thing ever. It's insane. It's delightful. It's our tree. And this will forever be the year Starbuck and Apollo Sent Us That Tree.

Happy Holidays, everybody. We got through Thanksgiving. It's time to enjoy Yule.

Those are still stunned Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Giving Thanks

On Thanksgiving Day, I find myself thinking about my family, both the ones I'm related to, and the ones I'm not. I'm a lucky, blessed woman.

Today, I've been in touch with a woman I've known for 35 years. Thirty-five years. And another I've known for thirty.

I've chatted with two friends who had cancer scares this year ~ one turned out benign, the other didn't, but her tumor was the best possible of the bad diagnoses. But they are both right here, to be chatted with.

My Heart is spending his first holiday with his new family ~ Listener's folks. That dawned on me today. We make a big deal out of the fact that she is now a part of our family, but that means that he is part of hers, as well. 

Listener. She is such a blessing to me, already. What an amazing young woman. I can't wait to get to know her better, and watch her grow.

My mom. For most of my life, our relationship has been...complex. It's leveled out over the last 7 or 8, but when I remember growing up ~ complex. Except for Thanksgivings. My memories of my mother on Thanksgiving aren't the least bit complex, or complicated, or convoluted. They are simply wonderful. Talking. Planning. Cooking, Cleaning. Sharing. Teaching. Learning. Hanging out at the kitchen sink, the kitchen counter, the kitchen table... And always joyous.

Crow, BIL, and the Little Ones. We are more a part of their lives right now than ever before ~ and I love it.

AppsRUs, who is present at every holiday meal ~ and several others ~ now, thanks to my little pot. Dr. B., Lori, M-O-M, the Divine M...

The list goes on and on, too many to list, too many to even begin to enumerate, until I end where I should have begun, with Lithus. My dear Lithus.

Money is great. I've had it, and I haven't had it, and I'll take having it any time. Living in a cool city is great, but it's not the be-all, end-all. But the people in my life? They are my blessings. They are my thanks giving.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Cutting the Cord

Part of the life we live is never knowing what day it is. Lithus flies every day he's on. No days off. No Friday excitement. Same with me. I write until I've met my week's deadlines. Could be every day. Could be through Wednesday. Regardless, there is no set day off. Without touchstones, it's easy to forget where one is in the week.

We also lose track of what time zone we're in. And have little, if any, say over what television stations we have available to us when we're on the road. Just this past season, I had watched every single episode of Face Off on SyFy. The night of the season finale, we ended up in a hotel that didn't offer the channel.

In light of all this, we stream almost all of our television. Netflix. Amazon. Even the stations' websites. We just rarely watch television in real time. So, we made the decision to get rid of cable.

When Lithus was talking to the cable guy, we could keep basic cable, keep our internet speed, and have access to in the moment weather, news, and emergencies. And, for a whole hell of a lot less money. You know what? We live in hurricane country. Immediate, local weather is worth keeping basic cable for a hell of a lot less money.

We unplugged the cable box, gathered all the stuff, and returned it all to the cable company. That night, we came home, swallowed hard, and reprogrammed the television to see what channels we got now.

Every. Single. One we had. Okay, no music stations. But we hadn't used those since we started using Spotify a couple months ago. ABC, CNN, CBS, NBC. SyFy. Food Network. HGTV. The list goes on. Every station we watch. Every station we've had.

We've been paying all that much more money for the cable box and remote control. *thunk*

I got nothing.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Why I March

Yes, Lithus and I attended the New Orleans rally in solidarity with Ferguson and in memory of Michael Brown tonight. We didn't do it for cookies. Or because we're "good" white folks. We did it because...

* An injustice was done. When Michael Brown was murdered. And again when Darren Wilson wasn't even indicted for that murder. And almost every night in between when the people doing the most harm were the people behind the badges and the riot gear.

* A family has lost their child. I cannot imagine. If it had been one of mine... I cannot imagine. And here's the thing: I don't have to. Mine are white. Mine live in the "good" neighborhoods. No cop is going to think mine are "demons" and kill them.

* Black lives matter. Yes, we chanted it as we marched down Canal. But I believe it. I know it. And, even if I didn't, it's still true. My belief in the value of black lives doesn't impact that value at all.

* The 1st Amendment must matter as much as the 2nd. But it can only matter if we make use of it. Otherwise, it's just words on the paper.

Do I march? Yes. You're damn right I do. And I scream myself hoarse, and I lead with NO JUSTICE to be answered NO PEACE when the leader gets hoarse and drops out herself. And yes, I hope I make a difference. To someone. Somewhere.

But I had nothing on the line tonight. And at the end of the night, I got to walk home, unmolested, without being followed by any of the police cars that followed us. So the one chant I wouldn't join was I AM ... MIKE BROWN. Because I'm not. And never will be.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Dear Grand Jury....

...You got it wrong. Yes, I know you are the only ones who saw the evidence. Yes, I know that you have more information than I do. All of that is true. What else is true is that you got it wrong.

Dear Fellow White People ~ We will reap what we've sown. Sooner or later, we're going to be treated with the same respect and care with which we've treated others.

That's all I've got for tonight.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Lithus

Happy birthday, my dear Lithus. It's been a good year.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

For Listener

What is it about texting about presents? I promise I'm not taking back your giraffe. You only wanted suggestions for me. Huh...





 


 Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Yes, I'm Patriotic

A blogger friend of mine was talking about a shirt he wears, and passes out to other veterans, that reads "Freedom Isn't Free: I Paid for It." He mentioned the store he usually orders them from, as well.

Now, I love this motto. I believe in this motto. Lithus and I have been trying to think of a small gift for M-O-M. This shirt is perfect. YAY!

So, I went to the website, and found the shirt. I looked around the site. Lots of 2nd Amendment (right to bear arms) stuff. Lots of Unapologetically American stuff. And while I may roll my eyes at the vehement nature, I can still respect it. After all, truth is, I, too, am unapologetically American. God, I do love my country.

Then I made a mistake. I read their marketing copy. They have a coexist bumper sticker, only instead of looking like this:

Theirs looks like this:

Ummm...okay. Let's say that what they are saying is that people who don't like weapons and people who do need to coexist. I recognize I'm reaching here, but I do try to give people the benefit of the doubt. But then I read this on their website:

Tired of seeing all the redundant COEXIST, Free Tibet, and Save the Whales stickers that do-nothing hipsters and hippies sport on their cars, we’ve decided to strike back with a variety of bumper stickers and window decals that will show the public that you’re a doer—not a talker. 

And now I have a problem. See, you can't point to the 2nd amendment, and ignore the 1st. Since there is no national religion, and there cannot be a national religion, we do indeed all have to coexist. And if you are going to claim to be a patriotic American, I shouldn't have to point you to the Constitution and remind you of the whole thing.

At this point, I could turn this into a political rant about how I can be called A LOT of things, and hippie is nowhere on that list. Nor is "do-nothing." And while "talker" certainly is, so the fuck is "doer." However, I'm now going to take a deep breath and not rant.

Instead, I found the same shirt, from a company that doesn't insult me, or my patriotism. And I will give that company my money ~ and my friend the shirt he so richly deserves.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

New Orleans Didn't Help

Just the other day, and to much support I might add, I wrote about trying to wait until after Thanksgiving to celebrate Christmas. It was much easier before tonight.

Tonight was the Jackson Square tree lighting. Now, admittedly, it wasn't as early as last year, when it was on November 16th ~ but it's still damn early. And I still went, because I still can't resist a tree lighting. As I realized last year, there's enough real stuff to get outraged about (I'm holding my breath over Ferguson, even as I write this). I'm not going to deny myself something as harmless as a Christmas tree lighting.

I still won't decorate, or play carols, or do anything Christmas-y here at home, but the music and colors were lovely.

Creepy gingerbread man, keeping Halloween alive

Across the street

Before...

After!

The brass band was wonderful. The second-line parade was wonderful. It was all wonderful (and a little creepy, but even that was wonderful).

Christmas isn't here ~ but it's coming.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

It's Not Supposed to Work Like This

I have long been a proponent of the idea that hate hurts exactly one person ~ the hater. The hated goes merrily about their business, while the hater gets eaten up inside, spending far too much energy on hate. I still believe this, wholeheartedly. You know what else I believe, and has been confirmed recently? That there is an exception to every rule. As stunned as I am to admit this, I have found my exception to the hate rule.

There's a person in my life who I hate. It's that simple. I have no control over this person's presence in my life. They are there and there's nothing I can do about this fact. And I have spent countless hours trying not to hate them.

Just recently, I decided to try something. I decided to embrace the hate. The distrust. The absolute knowledge that this person will do something loathsome again. Stunned, shocked, amazed, and even slightly embarrassed. It has worked wonders.

When this person does something hateful, I now simply think "that's why I hate them" and move on. Gone are the hours trying to understand. The hours trying to convince myself that surely this time will be different. The guilt of not being a good enough person to not hate them. The pain when they do something hateful and this time wasn't different.

Not only have I accepted who they are, but I have accepted who I am in response. Before, I dwelt a lot on not hating them. Now, I don't dwell at all on hating them. Before, I dreaded every text, email, and phone call. Now, I hardly notice them. They will be who they are and I will hate them for it, and we'll all move on. So much less angst, anxiety, and stress.

It's an odd place for me to be. I'm someone who loves, easily and readily and with very few conditions. I believe in forgiveness, acceptance, and the ability to let others live their lives without judgement. And now...there's this. Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about it. For now, though, it is how it is and I'll ride the wave.

Those are unexpected Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Following Up

Back in March, I asked you, dear Pobble Thought readers, to send a postcard to a sailor who was deployed and missing the birth of his first child, his son. All these months later, he is finally ~ finally ~ home. And has met his son.

posted with permission

That picture's enough. Even I know when not to add words.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Rent the Car Day

Lithus and I decided not to get a car when we moved to NOLA. Over the last four years, we have realized that was a major misstep. The public transportation system is...not good. The cabbies are...not good. I could rant. I have ranted. This isn't a rant.

After spending almost $100 in cab fare to get places like the mall and Target when we first moved here, we realized we really couldn't keep doing that. So, somewhere along the line, we started renting a car for the day occasionally. And then it dawned on me that renting a Uhaul is even less! Now, every couple of months, we rent a UHaul and run errands. It has become one of my favorite things to do.

Yes, we go ordinary places ~ Target, Winn Dixie, Penney's ~ but even ordinary places are fun when you can't get there often. We stop for lunch and/or dinner somewhere we don't usually have easy access to. I get a Dunkin' Donuts coffee from the one Dunkins in the area, that's not at the airport.

I get to make lists, and organize. Lithus gets to navigate, and file flight plans. We spend the day laughing and talking and enjoying ourselves and each other.

Today, was Rent The Car Day. The last of the holiday shopping. A big grocery shop. I even bought a gown and he bought a tux for New Year's Eve. And yes, that means holy shit, I am finally married to a man who owns a tux. This was a dream from when I was a kid. And here we are. It's not his first tux ~ but it's my first husband's tux, so it works. Plus, he kinda looks like an international man of mystery, which works, too.

It's not a huge thing, or some great event. It's just a really fun day, with my favorite person. Which, I guess, makes it a huge thing and some great event.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

I Am Trying

As I have written here before, I have always been adamant about keeping Christmas from coming until after Thanksgiving. In light of that, our door decoration is autumnal, not Christmasy. See?

And yet we seem to be the only ones trying to keep the two separate. 

The Jackson Square tree lighting is on November 20th. The Canal Street lighting is the 25th. The tree and Canal Street decorations are already up, even though they are waiting until the 25th to light any of them. Even the Roosevelt Hotel's gift shop has been decked out in Christmas finery ~ since the beginning of October.

In time, I may give in. I may start decorating and listening and going full speed ahead somewhere early November. For now, though, this year at least, I am trying.

Those are autumnal Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Not Sure That's the Word I Would Have Chosen

I was chatting with Starbuck the other day and, at one point (and appropriate to the conversation, not crazily out of thin air) she announced I REFUSE TO BE CUTE!

Years ago, Nemeria was in a play and she wrote me about her character: I'm going for aloofly evil, but knowing me, it's probably coming off as cute.

My own self-identity starts with "I'm a Muppet..." Baby sloths are the only things cuter than Muppets.

*deep deep sigh*

Mind you, all three of us can be other things. Sexy. Mysterious. Sophisticated. Alluring. Bad ass. And yes, even aloofly evil if the occasion calls for it. But there's no denying the cute is always there, lurking, waiting to come back out.

Back when I lived in Worcester, I had a collection of floor length...boudoir gowns...I suppose you could call them. Satiny, flowing things that certainly aren't pajamas. They puddled around my feet, and trailed out behind me when I walked. They weren't cute. For various reasons, I don't have many (any?) of them any longer. 

Knowing I missed them, Lithus bought me a gown and robe for my birthday this year. It is breathtaking. My favorite ever, and not just because he got it for me. It's just that beautiful, that flowing, that puddly, that elegant.

The other night, I had gotten out of my bath and slipped into it, He stopped me and said "you know what's cute about this gown?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Absolutely nothing..."

He continued on, a little hesitant. "This little bow right here..."

And dammit, he was right. It's a cute little bow. HOWEVER! We decided it isn't "cute." It's delightfully unexpected for the gown. A touch of whimsy in an otherwise sophisticated setting. My Lithus is a smart man.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Someone Didn't Think This Through

Lithus had to call our cable company today. He dialed the number - 800-123-4567 (not the real number) - and heard "LOTS of hot women are just waiting to talk to you! For English, press 1. For Spanish, press 2."

He even put it on speaker for me to hear.This couldn't be the cable company, could it? He hung up and checked the number. 123-4567. Dayum.

Oh...wait.

The cable company is 866-123-4567. The sex line is 800-123-4567. I can't help but wonder how many people have made this same mistake...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

I'm Quirky

As you know, I've been sick this week. However, today was the hump day. It's the day I woke up feeling human. Still low on energy, and not well, but definitely better. However, today ~ the day I really start feeling better ~ is the day I also start running a fever. It's low-grade, but it's there.

Really, Self? Really? Today?

Lithus informs me that I will be back to feeling shitty tomorrow. I'm refusing to accept that as a possibility. I'm kind of a sucky patient, I admit. But today was hump day, dammit, so tomorrow...Tomorrow I will feel even better.

Those are determined Pobble Thoughts. That and buck fifty will get you coffee.

It All Counts

The other day, we were watching the show Haven and I said to Lithus that I'd forgotten how much I love the show. He laughed and said how it wouldn't have anything to do with the New England imagery. Pshaw.

Only, I am also now watching a show called Salem, which didn't interest me in the least until recently.

And at the drug store today, we got to chatting with a woman from Connecticut, and I nearly hugged her.

It's Autumn, and I'm missing home. From Connecticut to Maine, it's all New England.




Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Veterans' Day

To M-O-M
To Brian
To Zack
To Papa
To David
To So and So
To the guys of the 19th, including the SGM,

You kept, and keep, me safe. You stand on the wall, so that I don't have to. I don't know what you've seen. I don't need to know ~ let's be honest, I probably don't want to know. But I know you, and I'm honored to say so.

Thanks.

Love ~

~ The Boston Pobble

Humph

ETA: With apologies to the people who were here when the video link wasn't working. It is now. 


So, technically, I am sick. Although part of me is refusing to acknowledge that fact. I have plans today, dammit! Still, in a passing nod to the fact that I don't feel ... my best ... I leave you with Neil deGrasse Tyson. Because who doesn't feel better when Neil deGrasse Tyson's in the room?




 Those are notsicknotsicknotsick Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Keep Your Fingers Crossed

Lithus has been sick. Not horribly so. Just enough to make him feel lousy and sleep a lot. When we finished our Sunday night movie earlier tonight, I realized ~ my throat is scratchy.

Nooooo..... You keep your fingers crossed; I'll keep you posted.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Learn Something New Everyday

I was 31 the first time I painted my toenails. My friend, Foxy, did them for me. It was weird to have electric pool blue toes, but I loved it and never looked back. Which means I have been doing my toes for approximately 15 years now.

For the first time today, when it came time to take off my old polish, instead of huffing and puffing and trying to reach my toes, I simply lifted a foot up on the edge of the tub.

Fifteen years and I had no idea it could be so easy.

At least I learned it, right?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Eat Your Veggies

I had an interesting conversation about broccoli today. Why don't more of us consider vegetables comfort food? One of my favorite foods on the entire planet is a canned green bean. Ask me the last time I had a canned green bean. I have no clue.

Admittedly, a canned green bean isn't the healthiest option out there, but when compared to cheese fondue and crunchy bread, canned green beans are gold. Ask me the last time I had cheese fondue and crunchy bread. Last weekend. You see my point?

In fairness, I do love vegetables. Even back when I was a bachelor, living in Worcester, and refused to cook anything more intensive than spaghetti and preferred my meals to come from a microwave, I still ate my veggies. Sometimes they were part of the frozen dinner I had just nuked. Usually, they were out of a glass of V8. Now that Lithus is cooking, they tend to be fresher, actually bought from a produce section, and include the occasional seasoning. If I go a whole day without something green and leafy - or at least green and cruciferous - I know it. I feel it. And the next day, I load up.

And yet...vegetables are rarely considered comfort food. We don't treat ourselves with salad. We don't feed our fears, insecurities, and pains with vegetables. We rarely settle down after a long, hard week, excited to eat vegetables. I know vegetarians who don't vegetables every day.

Still, when you reach for the broccoli instead of the cheesy, melty, greasy goodness, and not because you had to, but because you want to...sometimes that's comforting. Confusing, sure, but maybe a little comforting, too.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Why I Vote

Starbuck sent me this. It sums it up quite nicely.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Who Is Lena Dunham?

Apparently, I have fallen out of touch. I admit, I have at least heard of the woman before, but can't think of where or why. She does...something...with television. I think. She is also, so I'm told, a feminist icon, and a left-winger. Cool. Still don't know her.

But as of this week, the internet is abuzz. She has published a book. In it, she refers to herself as performing the same actions as "basically any sexual predator" on her little sister.

What The Fuck.

So, I went and did my own research. Sure enough, a right-wing website posted a blog article on how she sexually molested her little sister. And she has fired back, with a self-described "rage spiral" on twitter. Demands for a retraction. And threats of a lawsuit.

Here's my problem with the whole thing ~ 

First, let's be clear, I have no idea if this constituted sexual molestation or not. I certainly found myself uncomfortable and unamused reading this "humorous" excerpt from her book. But more than my discomfort, her sister has weighed in and said it wasn't molestation, it was kids being kids. You know what, I get that, too.

So what's the problem? The problem is cute, white liberal girls have to face the consequences of their words, just like everyone else. If you actually and for real call yourself a sexual predator, you don't get to then turn around and become oh so offended when people call you out for being a sexual predator. Cute, white, liberal girls don't get to flounce off angry when people don't find them funny. And cute, white, liberal girls certainly don't get to sue right wing publications for quoting the cute white liberal girl correctly and in context.

We aren't exempt, my fellow cute, white, liberal girls/women. We have to be responsible for our own words, thoughts, and actions. We don't get to demand to be taken seriously and then throw a temper tantrum when we are, just not how we meant.

Again, I don't know if Lena Dunham is a sexual predator or not. I'm inclined to say not, but before this week, I had hardly registered her on my radar, so I don't know. I do know she is currently engaging in some White Women Tears kind of shit. Which automatically keeps her from being any feminist icon of mine.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

I Voted!

I am a passionate voter. In presidential years, I'm rabid. In midterm years, I'm passionate. So, this morning, Lithus and I got up, got showered, and headed to my voting place.

There was a bit of a line, but not much of one. The system worked well for the 2 dozen or so of us. If they ended up with a crazy long line once people got off work, I could see it being a bit miserable. But early in the day? It worked.

There was a very old man in a wheelchair. There were a couple kids who looked like this was probably their first election. It definitely wasn't their third. We all helped each other, and the people running the polling place, and came together in a picture perfect form of what democracy can be.

Here's the thing ~ Louisiana is a state that is being watched closely. Many pundits are predicting a runoff. Have I loved Mary Landrieu as a senator? Honestly, no. But is she better than her opponent? In so many ways. And yet so many people from Louisiana are expected to vote against their best interests that we could be facing a runoff.

You damn well better believe I'll vote then, too. In a picture perfect form of what democracy can be.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee (that your Canadian partner buys for you while you stand in line to vote).

Birthday Thoughts

My birthday was a month ago. 45. Lithus wanted to do something big, because the 5 year birthdays are big deals. But we are saving money for some other things right now, and, while 45 isn't small, it also isn't as important as 40 or 50. So, I reminded him he had been a part of doing something BIG for 40; we agreed that he would do something BIG for 50. And we'd let 45 be whatever 45 was going to be. 

And then we realized ~ we were going to be with my family for my birthday. Not near my birthday. Or around my birthday. On October 3rd. My actual and for real birthday. 

Crow made my favorites in her repertoire ~ bean burritos, roasted root veggies, and chocolate souffle. No, there was no flavor profile. At 45, I don't need to prove I can create a menu to anyone. There were presents. And singing. After Grasshopper and the Hatchling went to bed, my Heart and Listener took Lithus and me out to their favorite lounge, and then a fun Irish pub.

Okay, maybe it wasn't BIG ~ but it wasn't small, either. Begin as you plan to end. This year should be lovely and filled with happiness.

And a happy birthday to Cam Pike. Love and miss you, my friend.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you birthday cake.

From Listener

Listener has a Tumblr. I won't link it here, because it's not mine to do so. However, I'm addicted. As we go into the holiday season, I couldn't help but steal this...

nature revering witches be like:

and tehcnowitches looking over like:

Those are amused, city witch, Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

(Note ~ I have no idea what happened with the formatting; I'm sure it has something to do with stealing from Tumblr...)

A Fascinating Thing

Or maybe it's just fascinating to me, but I'm fascinated by strange things. Back when I was writing novels, I stopped reading fiction, almost completely. It's been almost 4 years since my last one went live, and I'm just now getting back into reading books.

Guess what's happening now that I write blogs for a living? Yeah... So, I apologize for the dust that has accumulated over here at Pobble Thoughts. I shall endeavour to keep it a bit busier around here.

Along those lines....

We ended up, completely unexpectedly and at the last moment, home for Halloween and Samhain. We got back on Wednesday in time to discover the Krewe of Boo parade was rolling Thursday night. YAY! It was such fun. Sadly, none of my pictures turned out well this year, but that doesn't mean there aren't stories. (ETA: And it doesn't mean I didn't post a few of them anyway over at Stilettos...)

We had kids on either side of us. When the float with the balloon animals went by, and the very little guy next to Lithus couldn't quite reach before the float moved on, Lithus chased the float, got the balloon dog, and delivered it to its owner. When the little girl next to me was never quite faster than her brothers to get to the beads, I made sure she had some. And yes, when the drunken That Girl tourists tried to squeeze in ~ and squeeze the kids out ~ I made sure she understood that's not how we do it down here. The Krewe of Boo ain't Mardi Gras, people.

Then for Samhain last night, we had our traditional feast, honored our dead, and went out to enjoy our first Halloween in New Orleans. It was lovely from a religious standpoint, because the last 3 years, we've been in very religiously conservative places (Idaho, Montana, and Utah) so I have barely whispered hi to my dad, let alone gone into a full ritual. To be able to do so again was amazing.

But the celebration of Halloween in New Orleans is not to be underestimated, either, Holy cow. Not quite Mardi Gras ~ but close. Far closer than I would have expected.

Surprise ~ I dressed like a witch. :)

It was good night. Hope yours was as well. Tell me about it...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.