A Recurring Theme

 She is the very Mischief, a crooked girl who hopped from a crows egg hatched in a cuckoo's nest and ever afterwards walked contrarywise though the world.

 Patron Saint of Unintended Children, and people who come into our lives not intending to Stay. Also Foxes, Coyotes, Pigeons, Rats and Lost Shoes by the roadside.  

She is Mictecacihuatl, keeper of the Gates and Ways, Protector of displaced, discarded, dispirited and disenfranchised Peoples. Hers is all food eaten in secret, all forgotten truths and all hidden treasure.

Her Day is today, November 1st, Day of the Innocents.

A Long Year's Walk

My Dad had the recent good fortune and perseverance to turn 67 years old. As he did last year, he commemorated the auspicious event by completing his 67th ascent of the local Mount Moooooo (there may be an A in there, somewhere) and raising a toast

To Old Guys

 I made a picture about it with colored pencils and sent it to him. Customs rumpled it, rude bastards.

Long Bone, 18x24

 In anticipation of many years' more journeys.
Based on this:

Our lives shine for all to see.

Go In The Machine!

These days, if it's not one thing, it's your mother.

Mine decided she needed to supplement her attic insulation with 4,500 cubic buttloads of cellulose insulation. (the fancy words are a lie, cellulose means shredded up newspaper)
In August, in the warmth.
The unconventional wisdom being, that if you insulate the attic while it's 100-plus degrees outside, that heat will be trapped there so that it can keep the house nice and toasty in winter.
So I got to clamber up there with an extended-range fluff bazooka and blast away at the rafters for 3 hours.
Before the dust started, it was a silent gray snowfall.

THIS is the power supply for fluff-blasting. It requires two able-bodied persons to stand over it and crumble the bales of cellulose into manageable chunks. During my turn at this, I discovered the work goes by more pleasantly if one sings, "Crumble crumble crumble crumble crumble" to nearly any tune that comes to mind. Sadly the vocals are not included in this recording.

And now my camera is dusty.

Sighted Recently - The Grackle of Total Disillusionment

I gave him a french fry.

He wasn't cheered.

He may be afflicted with West Vile Nirus.

Old Bones Soup

Know which of my moving parts had the shortest warranty?  My freaking KNEES.

Preventative maintenance and minor repairs are accomplished with the occasional anti-inflammatory, frequent helpings of Jello, a glucosamine supplement, and my personal favorite,
Old Bones Soup!

Not all parts of the process are very photogenic.

I told you it was homely-looking

Acquire a dinner-sized portion of the bone-in beast meat of your choice.

Cook and eat, saving the bones, skin, cartilage etc.

Put these remnants in a big soup pot, cover with water,

Add vinegar (important because not only does it dissolve the cartilage, it helps leach the minerals from the bones so they may be subsumed by your bones) and usual soup fixins like salt, onion, carrots and celery.

Boil until you can't smell vinegar, then an hour or two more. There's no such thing as too long unless the water runs out.

Strain out the solids and keep the liquid. It should cool to form a proto-gelatin.
THIS IS THE STUFF KNEES ARE MADE OF, and it's in short supply in most diets.

Label carefully to avoid confusement

Freeeze it in an ice cube tray for later use .

I eat everything in there since I don't mind mooshy vegetables. But if you don't like mooshy vegetables, I suggest using the butts of the celery and onion and the carrot ends for this step to get their flavor, then discard and start with newer more desirable cuts of veggies if you're making further soup.

It doesn't have to be just soup, there are a multitude of uses.
You can add it to smashed potatoes.
Or...um...different kinds of soup. Or beans. Or mixed drinks. Go crazy.
Your knees will thank you.

Petroglyph

From the Pueblo people
(I read it in a book once. Or mostly just looked at the pictures)

It means, to leave the old village and establish a new settlement.

I would read it from right to left: the old village is rounded, familiar, woven with paths we can walk half-dreaming; the new place has corners, edges, to navigate it we must turn sharply and learn new angles.

For my Dad, who is starting on a new journey.

YOU ARE HERE

Yo Rethra! Quit piddlin' around, it's time to GO

This is my last week of employment at The Giant Kidney.
I leave behind a real Ostrich feather duster, a clock on every wall and a dear janitor friend, the lady in the leopard-print hat and an individual whom I know only as "Phlegmy". All in all, some of the nicest people I've ever cleaned up after.
 On to bigger and better things!