Ghost, looking more ghostly than ever.

It is the best of all winter holiday weather, a steady soft snow for hours, not so cold (around 30°), and the world, or at least my corner of it, is perfectly quiet. Dipping back into the serious business of Writing The Book today. Breaking for a late brunch of ‘Costco.’ Panko-breaded shrimp leftover from last night’s ‘dinner’ and Kirkland Irish Cream Liquor. Can only have a tiny bit as I have pages of writing to go. Both book and blog.

I am quite angry about Thanksgiving this year. If we stick to thinking about it as a harvest festival or a chance for a nice long weekend it’s fine. But do not bring the damn Pilgrims into it puleeze…. They came, like all immigrants and refugees have come, to escape difficult-to-horrendous conditions wherever they were living at the time. Your Englishmen and my Scandinavians were no more and no less worthy than the Iraqi or Mexican or Haitian who shows up at the border today. Many of us are sick to death of a bunch of poorly-educated white dummies claiming divine rights on lands that were originally the homes and homelands of brown people—and shouting ‘no brown people welcome’ in this new land of the Cult and home of the Terrified.

Top the most tasteless of gluten-free muffins with a Lot of Butter (it’s Thanksgiving after all) and it tastes good…well pretty good.

Do I want to maintain my Scandinavian traditions of enjoying gloomy weather, hard work (usually), outdoor pleasures, and eating lots of butter…of course I do. And I want to visit everyone else’s. No, I do not want to participate in most religious traditions…and I still prefer waffles with butter and berries to most world cuisines. Feeding the poor and welcoming the stranger were religious traditions worth adopting; however corporate greed and dominating women seem to be more of the norm (in every single religion—tell me differently!). And it is good to have a fish taco or nicely crisped lumpia now and then.

My happiness now ever so slightly dimmed with the advent of the sun.

But my nemesis, the sun, leaves quickly.

I probably should apologize to the people who read this blog because it is labeled as a ‘travel’ blog—it really is that usually. But without a partner, dog, or shrink in my life, it is also occasionally a place to vent. Sorry. I do try to make the rants a little bit clever but ‘clever’ is not one of my dominant traits.

Now this becomes a foodie blog. As many of you know, I have food issues. No evening food, no gluten, no meat (by choice because I like animals and not destroying the environment), the tiniest amounts of alcohol and that only early in the day, and generally nothing super-richly-delicious. So I eat oddly and try new recipes that typically turn out badly…sometimes really badly.

So during Thanksgiving week, a time devoted to gluttony and frenzied shopping, here’s what I ate. It is not a pretty picture.

Never never make this. The recipe is for white beans, tomato paste and shredded cheese. Recipe says it tastes like lasagne. IT. DOES. NOT.

Here’s where I store peaches and art while I contemplate whether to disturb their loveliness by eating them!

New table things…although I have no dining table. Hmmm?

Happy Thanksgiving.


  1. My goodness, snow for Thanksgiving. It was windy and cold in Dover, well, not that cold! Your food choices frighten me. I may report you to the Food Police, but never can find their toll free number. You must have a conference call with Schuyler who is a great cook and I am sure he can give you some suggestions to improve the taste of things, even strange things. I thought your cheese curls were bad, I had no idea. In any event…I am very thankful to call you my friend and so sorry I did not see you in October.

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