Annually Further Onset Episodic Déjà Vu

On this day, Carlow scurried hurriedly to nab a fanciful top hat to adorn his cranium. As dapper as he appeared, he drew near to him, to my daunt & appall, a pelt of fur from the past.

This stole of pelage brings the onset of memories of a friend of the former: Phil.

Upon a point along the way of time, it has become customary for Phil to, in a moment of time, become a living almanac page. Oh! the absurdity of a fiendish, and sleepy, rodent in full belief he can sense the shift of the air in an extended forecast of a season's journey. Quite pompous, if you were to ask me!

But my Carlow holds on to his Phil, in more ways than one, to see if the gardening may be tended to in a timely manner. I also believe he may be catching a bit o' a bug in forecasting the changes of weather. 

The most incongruous fragment of this entire ordeal might very well be that this has apparently been scampering about for 130 years. How can this possibly be? 

Now, even though I have been to the early, ridiculous gatherings, it seems like just a year or two ago we have had dealings with Phil & his vaguely gentlemanly, rhymey-timey committee. The place their top hats upon their parted coifs, and believe they speak the "groundhogese" Phil dotes upon their waxed ears (possibly built up from the rich amounts of pomades used to slick the follicles into place upon their scalps).

Here, Carlow & I, have taken a short time to settle in these modern times of Possum Trot, so imagine my consternation of my early days, before the hiraetherism set in, right there before us. Quite surreal to see my Carlow wringing his tentacles in great excitement to see Phil & his committee still performing these antics.

I realize I have traveled, albeit to the possible bewilderment of the folks in my surroundings of how we got here in the first place (vortexes, portals, and such...), it still appears we have been in this place before. Seems like the yesterday of yesteryear as to watching the spectacle of Gobbler's Knob. And yet - here we are; through the portals & vortexes of time as we travel about, in our hiraetherism, the ages appear the same within the same spectacle - frighteningly so.

Maybe, ever so possibly, we have done this oh-so-many times before this one. This day - of a forecasting almanac of a groundling woodchuck! Telling the same gentleman (whom I postulate were there at Gobbler's Knob to begin with) about not laying eyes upon a shadow. 

Spring, we now speculate, shall hence forth early? It is an early February day, upon the calendar - though it is to be Winter's playground, Spring has, indeed, taken the day instead.

That Phil - gives me a bit o' the jimjams. 

Yet Carlow nestles with his pelt in grand admiration for Phil.

Here's to a possible-early Springtime, though I remain baffled upon the fact Phil continues on these days. I was to think that these groundling woodchucks only roamed these soils for all-but-a-few years. Either there has been much déjà vu, or Phil is keeping in the best of health for these 130 years.

That, or there is a treacherous obligation to keep the namesake going...

As a Poulpé involved in the teuthology field, I recognize how this can be quite taxing.

Well then, the Groundling Woodchuck Day has apparently been "Merry" with announcement of possible early Spring! I shall brew some tea to celebrate. And I shall allow Carlow to nap in sweetest dreams with good news of Phil's (whichever he is in line) grand announcement. The thought of him in dreamland forecasting a continual dampness for "wet season" surely entertains my thinks.

I do wonder if we'll experience this type of moment again...
Merry Groundling Woodchuck Day, to you, anyway.

Aetherventures & Seasoned Tradition

Greetings after long while.

I slipped away for some sea-worthy adventure from something of a day having to do speaking like a pirate.

Why is there a day for this? I may never fully understand. However, it seems to be a modern day taking in, so I thought I should take it upon myself to have Carlow and myself "enjoy" the day? Quite strange, but wanted to see what it was about.

Carlow, quite a worldly cephalopod, decided we needed to take a boat ride to commemorate. He decided to navigate.

Unfortunately, Carlow got us lost for quite some time.

However, after a Three-hour tour turned into several days-worth of floating, we made our way back after my resistance to Carlow's failed navigational skills (or lack thereof), and we found a map, compass, as well as better direction. We finally made our way back to our Possom Trot staying-quarters.

It happened just in time to take a part in a Halloween trick-or-treat style event where there was not space for door-to-door, but rather automobile-to-automobile to which the back end of the machines to hold space for trunks and luggage became areas with elaborate decorations of fun & frightening in ornate manner.

I took my own carriage to do the same. It seems headforms tend to terrify & make for odd; with that said, I boasted some fine millinery of bowlers & top hats for display on masked forms. Since this was held in the fall of night, I found some wonderful Edison-style bulbs strung together to be lit at once.

Since I was still on a bit of the unpleasant side with Carlow, I had him help hold the string of illumination for the evening - much to his dismay.

Upon our arrival of the event in the lot, I rather enjoyed cozying up to a rather handsome gent who happen to be present.

After witnessing several mostly-miniature-sized characters in costumage ranging of all sorts, all for a few treats in a bag for loot and excitement; there were hours-worth of them!

An event like this, is, of course, leading to the door-to-door treatery. Hoping to have sufficient sweets for the night of frights & costumed characters. The night also held a importance of a championship in the game of baseball on the line. The Telly Vision was set to keep up with the KayCees as they were trying to make their run at a victory toward the championship! I, of course, felt I should root for them, so I answered my Possom Trot door in my costume dressed to the nines as this lovable team might take the crown! And Carlow joined me.

Another night of many-many eventual door adorners led to a large total of characters! And Oh! were several taken by my fan attire for the game. What a wonderful night. And to have the hometown team win the evening certainly helped the aire of the night!

What a delight it would be to be photographed with this gentleman:
KayCee, The 'W' Guy

With November now in swing, a harvest time is coming to celebrate!

A lovely, and quiet, holiday of the giving of thanks was had. It was topped with a lovely dinner of turkey and some delightfully delicious fixings to pair with the entree.

And it has now turned to a focus on Christmastime.

I had the marvelous pleasure of being able to take a moment to see blood of Charles Dickens take the stage! I was thrilled to witness Mr. Dickens' great-great grandson perform his ancestor's tale of 'A Christmas Carol."

Oh! the delight!

As I have been in these times, I have seen different tellings of the tale. As I was so taken with this one-man telling, I began to be troubled by an inconsistency of one character of the story:  the visit from the first spirit.

I was going to be able to watch a moving illustration telling of the tale. Lo! and behold! The first spirit, of Christmas Past, appeared quite differently yet again.

With the town libraries hosting Mr. Gerald Dickens, then after watching the moving illustration, I had the strong urge to read the book again. I needed closure on this Ghost!

Eventually I pulled out a copy of the story, and took in some of my childhood as I began to re-read the words of Dickens. I brewed up some Earl Grey tea with a splash of milk and rum (because - "spirits"), found some festive music to softly set the tone, and began to pore over the classic print.

Even Carlow is helping hold my spot as I read

As I read it through again, I was amazed at what had left my memory by relying on only visual re-tellings for so long. And, even before the re-read, I felt the message hang onto me more so than usual at this time around.

I was grateful to have my urge curbed by knowing how I would envision the first spirit now. I can now begin to wrap my brained thoughts around interpretations again.

Then the words of Dickens, using Jacob Marley’s Ghost as the vessel in the tale, had this message to share, which quite grabbed my attention:

"Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed,...not to know, that ages of incessant labour by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunities misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I! 

"...At this time of the rolling year,...I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me?"

Now, as these charitable times are swirling in the air, as well as halls decked in greenery, bells, and shine, I implore you to really pay the story greater attention for its continued message throughout.

And now, we shall see what other aetherventures I may be led upon. The holiday season is fresh, and there are many that can benefit from help, grace, and kindness of every heart - may the harder hearts be softened for this time, all the whole year through!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Taking in Steampunk'd

Here in the modern world, there is this thing called "reality T.V."

I have figured out these are moving pictures on this screen of sorts. This screen on a box, which oddly doesn't run on anything steam (which apparently is a good thing), is called a Telly Vision - hence: T.V.

Then, in this "reality" realm, these moving pictures contain people who are not supposed to be actors or acting in a non-planned fashion. They interact with each other while being challenged. It seems a bit barbaric how it goes about. Being thrown into a lion's den, of sorts, to see who might be ravaged by the mobs first.

It's a bit stressful.

I did, however, come across information about one of these "reality T.V." moving picture shows. It had to do with steampunk! I was intrigued.

Though I have found myself to be quite busy as of late, it has become quite difficult to work in watching this moving picture show of reality folks when I should be able to.

Thank goodness for this modern contraption called a Digital Video Recorder. This means there's this box that you can somehow tell to watch the moving picture show for you, then it will show it to you when you can come back to it. Still, without steam! Incredible...and apparently still a good thing.

Well, I felt it would be most proper to find proper attire to enjoy this moving picture show.

Not only do I get prepared, but I do include Carlow to view the screen with me.

2nd Week's Attire

3rd Week's Attire

4th Week's Attire

I do not have photographs of my Episode 1 attire, I have decided to record what I have worn for posterity's sake. Carlow was none-too-thrilled.

In this moving picture show, there are several makers in the steampunk realm. One is to be eliminated after each challenge, where they are judged. The maker I have rooting for was rudely eliminated in Episode 4. Devastating.

Since it appears on the screen box, or the Telly Vision, only on the Wednesday of each week, I must wait 7 whole days until the next viewing. However, there will be no viewing this next week. It is just rumor, but it is believed they must take 14 days for those who keep up with the moving picture show to fully mourn the loss of Tayliss Forge off the show, as she was rudely banished from the manor.

Even Carlow shed a tear.

So I shall find other distractions in the meantime until the moving picture show returns on the screened box.

Which, oddly doesn't run off of steam.

Which is apparently a good thing.