I just pulled the pumpkin pies out of the oven. One for us to share, the other for my husband to enjoy later this weekend. He likes to say that pumpkin is a vegetable and thus pumpkin pie is good for him. Ha!

They smell better than they look, you’ll have to trust on that one. The kids will dose their slices with vanilla ice cream.

Most traditional Thanksgiving fare is inexpensive to make. After all, we’re supposedly honoring a feast between Native Americans and Pilgrims that supposedly happened in Massachusetts during the dreariest of months. There wouldn’t have been a lot of fresh food items available at the local markets.

Growing up I used to hate the above dish (Campbell’s green bean casserole). Don’t tell Campbell’s but in my rendition of this traditional dish, I did not use their canned mushroom soup! I made my own creamy, cheesey white sauce with fresh sauteed mushrooms and garlic. I also omitted the generous dose of soy sauce my mother always added. It was way too salty! I don’t really know why I decided to give it a try after all these years … my way, of course. Nostalgia I suppose.

Anyway I’m off to share. But first I’d better dress in real clothes and brush my hair. Brush my teeth, maybe? Happy Spare a Turkey Day!

This is a long read but a reminder that, while America’s tit is definitely caught in the wringer, there are many more dire situations in the world. Plus I love the Johnny Cash clip at the end. As I told Duke, it is oddly comforting.

In my opinion, the love of learning is an addiction you either have or you don’t. My father was a professor of mechanical engineering who was considered an expert in fiber stress: How the materials used to build a plane, a bridge, an automobile, etc. will hold up under extreme stress. But he also knew more about classical music and literature, Greek mythology and astronomy, and even history than many of his colleagues who taught those subjects. He was addicted to learning. He was also a staunch conservative whose mind was unyielding on many subjects.

“Brittle behavior occurs when the material shows no yielding; the stress-strain curve continues smoothly to fracture.”

Dad quote from the chapter “Prediction of Static Failure” in his book:

It’s ironic to me how anyone who taught fiber stress could be so unyielding in matters of law and order, morality, and politics as my father. I like to think, given his breath of knowledge, he would have cheered the election of Obama purely for the historical significance, even though he could never vote for a democrat. I like to think he would have recognized that the fiber of this country was being fatigued to the point of fracture by the GOP’s increasing acceptance of anti-intellectualism, immorality and greed. But you know, we all want to think the best of our parents.

There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there has always been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge. Issac Asminov

I’ll never know what my father would have done. If he would have stuck with the GOP despite its embrace of all the things he hated or if, in the end, he would have been able to yield. I will never know.

Join me on Blue Sky at: jwiz26@bsky.social. I have no idea what I’ll be doing there. Maybe teaching fiber stress? What’s your handle?

We sent them off to war, These bright young men We had no knowledge of what they saw, They came home bright young men no more . Yes though brave they…

Bright young Men

I should have known when the threat of Santa Ana winds entered the forecast it would not be a good week. Instead of blowing off the ocean, these winds barrel down from the inland mountains like out of control freight trains. They’re generally hot and dry and can blow the flames from a grass fire hundreds of miles in only seconds. Not to mention the damage they can do to a power line.

Listening to the pundits jabber on about what went wrong in the US Election is like raking leaves in a wind storm. Basically, we had two old guys running for president. One of them had the gig before and kept the world in knots and stitches for all the wrong reasons. The other had the more somber task of getting the country running again after a pandemic nearly upended the world’s economy. But it, and the vicious attacks on his only son, the war in Ukraine, the Gaza situation, etc., slowed him down and made him seem not as sharp. So, he had to go. Considering Biden’s long service to the country, pushing him out was a shitty thing to do. It made the Democratic party look disloyal to one of their most faithful. Perception is everything in the world of fake news, especially given the GOP’s lapdogish loyalty to their own.

But it’s done and we are once again the pariah/laughing stock of the world. I hope that those in the MAGA movement will tone down the rhetoric about hanging people, take off their garbage bags and their diapers and the bandages taped to their ears and get a life. But I doubt that will happen. They were having too much fun.

And that is my last word on the subject.

Guess who sprouted up from the ground? When it blooms this plant is gorgeous. But it’s so damn unpredictable.

Like many Americans, I can’t breathe. I’m having trouble sleeping. I can’t write. I can’t paint. And, now that icy storms are moving into Northern California, I’ve put my gardening tools into the shed.

I remember when Turnip was first elected. My cousin was visiting from a small town in Massachusetts and he said “My friends back home will be so happy!” I didn’t know what to say. I knew the friends he was talking about. They owned a small farm outside of town where they made maple syrup and boarded horses. A lovely place that had been in the family for at least a century. The man had suffered from substance abuse for decades before getting sober and, in turn he’d become my cousin’s sponsor. Recovering addicts have a close bond with their sponsors and so I didn’t ask my cousin who he’d voted for.

My cousin has turned his life around and was recently voted Citizen of the Year in his small town. But he likes to do things he thinks I disapprove of … like ATVing through the backwoods of New Hampshire. To his circle of friends, college educated folks who held white collar jobs (like me) look down upon riding anything faster than a golf cart. I let it wash over me. Once someone has that “us versus them” mentality baked into them, there’s not much you can do or say. However, this time I’m fairly confident he’s voting blue. He’s done enough community service that he knows what’s at risk.

In honor of Halloween which is generally my favorite holiday, a blast from the past. The scariest place I’ve ever visited; Renwick Ruin, Roosevelt Island, New York City. By the way, a friend just told me that Conclave is a really good movie so if, like me, you can’t breathe, check it out.

Check out other pictures that need no words at Hugh’s place.