Since I imagine my fellow port-swillers have had about enough of Robbo’s religious mania for a bit, and since circumstances pretty much bar me from commenting on the 800 pound Topic of the Day, I’ll instead give you a few odds and ends:

♦   We had three jack-o-lanterns for Halloween this year, all carved free-hand by Self using nothing but a spoon and a kitchen knife.  I’ve never been into “pumpkin art,” but instead retain what one might call a primitivist taste (triangular eyes and nose, maybe some fangs in the smile) from my own childhood.  Another thing I retain is a distinct dislike for sticking my hands into the pumpkin guts while cleaning them out.  But Dad’s gotta do what Dad’s gotta do.

♦    It has become a tradition at the port-swiller residence to begin the pumpkin carving ceremony by reciting Calvin’s line, “Okay, Jack, time for your lobotomy!” Laughs every year.

♦   Last night saw the first frost of the year.  Bowing to this, I finally put the side panels (which had been off since about March) back on the ol’ Wrangler.  Cold canvas is cussed stuff to fool with, so I probably will leave them on until next spring.  However, as is my wont, I will leave the back flap rolled up as much as possible, putting it down only for snow storms.

♦  What Mrs. Robbo says: “We need to paint the upstairs hall.”  What Robbo actually hears: “You need to paint the upstairs hall.”  Funny how that works.

♦   Some time ago I read Joseph Conrad’s The Secret Agent, a novel about anarchists in London in the late 19th Century.  This week I have picked up G.K. Chesterton’s The Man Who Was Thursday, which is also about…… anarchists in London in the late 19th Century.   Interesting contrast.  The mental impression I retain from Conrad’s book is one of sordid, nasty grubbiness.  The feel I get from Chesterton’s is one of mad, almost absurd energy.  In Conrad’s case, I believe the word-painting was quite deliberate.  In GKC’s, I think it’s just his personality bubbling through.

♦  Finally: