Thursday night we had our first frost here in Dunwich. It was light and wasn’t a killing frost, at least not completely. There were hoverflies and dragonflies and of course bees buzzing around today. And the remaining flowers (wolfbane and Montauk daisies) are still more or less undamaged. But the writing, as they say, is on the wall. And wonder of wonders, Camera Girl asked me to turn the heating system back on! Turning the heat on before November is usually me throwing in the towel and her mocking my delicacy. Well, it really was cold last night. But I think the real issue is that Princess Sack of Potatoes is staying over on Sunday and she wouldn’t want to be responsible for giving our granddaughter a cold. And tonight, we had the first butternut squash chicken soup of the season. Ah, what can I say? There are compensations for the end of the warm weather. Stuffed to the gills with such splendiferous food I am happy and content.
But the sad truth is that I am on the cusp of the dreaded evil times in Dunwich. For the next four weeks I will be a veritable captive in the thrall of First Selectman Cthulhu and his evil regime of ghouls and bureaucrats. I will be forced to do their bidding and many days I will be incommunicado. This year it has been decided to make up the short fall in the town budget by having a raffle. Everyone’s name goes in First Selectman Cthulhu’s size 666 hat and whichever hundred names he draws have to make a choice; pay one hundredth of the shortfall or be summarily eaten. If they choose ingestion then we pick another name from the hat to make up the hundred.
My job is to gather the money from those paying or alternatively, providing a firehose pumping Alka Seltzer from a nearby pond whenever the appetizers start to make the First Selectman a little verklempt. Mine is not an easy life. But it pays the bills. And the retirement benefits are pretty good. I hope most people pay. We didn’t account for the price of Alka Seltzer going up. If we run low, I shudder to think how I’ll get through the collection, never mind the audit. Well, no use whining. On with the show.
So, this means there may be some dead air here at the site. Of course I am making accommodations. I’ve loaded up a month’s worth of “Quotes of the Day.” Twenty-two of those will be by Ernie Pyle in his capacity as a WWII combat reporter. Those will be starting in four days. And I’ll be working tomorrow to put together a month’s worth of “Photos of the Day.” So, there will certainly be content. But the daily column may sometimes seem substandard, as if dictated by a drowning man. Well, they say that some people work best under pressure. Unfortunately, nobody’s ever said that about me. So, there it is.
And here we are a couple of days after the Gaza agreement and the Middle East hasn’t reignited. Dare I hope? Stay tuned.
A possible alternative to the Alka-Seltzer might be to send a convoy of tanker trucks to Bottomless Lakes, New Mexico. The water in those lakes is heavy with alkali and tastes like a mouthful of Bromo-seltzer. And those lakes are DEEP! Even the First Select-entity’s heartburn wouldn’t drop the level by more than a foot. Despite the cost of transport, it may be an affordable option.
Ed, that would be a fascinating option but unfortunately the Bottomless Lakes of New Mexico are the exclusive property of the Great Old One Atrophia the Goddess of Laziness. And even though she wouldn’t have the energy to seek revenge she is Cthulhu’s second cousin by way of his Uncle Yog-Sothoth on his mother’s side.
Yeah, but is She BLOOD kin?
Well, blood, ichor, ectoplasm. Who’s to say?