More Updates

Now I remember the REALLY IMPORTANT UPDATE that completely slipped my mind the last time I posted. The coyotes in the gravel pit. They are back. I remembered it on Halloween when I took the HMS Genius outside after dinner. She was sniffing around trying to figure out what other dog had been walking all over her territory like Winnie-the-Pooh following his own tracks around a spinney of larch trees . . .

(Real-time update: Learnt new word today. spinney. n. a small wood with undergrowth. 1926 MILNE W-t-P There was a small spinney of larch trees just here, and it seemed as if the two Woozles, if that is what they were, had been going round this spinney; so round this spinney went Pooh and Piglet after them.)

. . . so the dog was grappling with the existential question of who you are if you can't identify yourself by smell, and I was listening to the trick-or-treaters making a commotion in the streets. It was a warmish night and they were out in droves, all the small children. The small children decorated like pretty little petit-fours. Small, short-legged, bite-sized children. But our coyotes must be a kinder, gentler breed of bloodthirsty death-hounds, because as far as I know, nobody was eaten. ALAS. As an update this had enormous potential but due to our coyote population being a bunch of pansies, I'm afraid it comes to nothing.

But I do have another Halloween story full of intrigue, mystery, disguise, thrills, spills, close calls, swift escapes, death-defying feats, fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, and heart-healthy whole grain cereal! One morning many months ago I opened the kitchen cupboard and found this peculiar specimen masquerading as a box of Cheerios.


I was afraid to open it in case armed croutons leapt out and burnt down Troy, but I quickly discovered that so thorough was the disguise that it contained nothing more than a freakishly large bag of Cheerios.

What we have here is the first documented case of either (1) a sting operation set up by a wholesale-sized crouton box to infiltrate the General Mills mafia and expose its heinous crimes, or (2) a Halloween party held in, given by, and attended by foods residing in and around a kitchen cupboard. Since croutons are famously inept and therefore much more likely to get the date of Halloween wrong than to be secret agents, I find that option two explains why this oddity showed up as long ago as last February, and yet did not bring about any arrests.

The substance of this update, in case it is not clear, is that the crouton box has at last managed to wear its costume on the correct date, and that must give it a pleasant feeling of vindication.

My next update concerns the amazing discovery I made on my birthday. It is called Ribbon Pie. It is easy and quick to assemble, given that you have just had a birthday and have a new pie plate and fresh ribbons at hand. Voilà:


The paper flower is of course a garnish, as we all know paper is not edible.

Lastly, I must report that my mum has pulled up her mums and now the prettiest thing in the garden is sage, as seen here.


On a related and obvious note, it snowed.


I am no longer sure what season it is and will save that update for later.