Evening sets in Marshfield--though in other parts of the world it is more (4:00 P.M.) commonly known as afternoon. Listen, if I don't get a comment soon I'm going to do nothing but talk about the weather. This morning I was about to head out for my workout and clicked on Intellicast to see if I should put on another layer. I tapped in 04654 and the temperature reading was 62 degrees. I figured I must have typed in an incorrect digit and I was getting the weather for Atlanta or some place. But on closer inspection I see that I really did hit on Machias, ME. Turns out we had the highest morning temperature of any place in the continental U.S. So I ask you again, Global Weirding or what?

You know how I was talking about S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) up in this blog? Well it occurred to me that not only am I completely symptom-free, but part of the reason for that is my approach to the other SAD (Standard American Diet). When you keep your system fueled and running clean with God's perfect foods (fruits and veggies!) you almost can't help but feel happy.

Ironic, I guess, that I've never considered myself a person much interested in small talk, yet every time I do a post, if I don't have a poem or event I want to talk about, my inclination is to comment on the weather. You know, like how we got a foot of snow a few days ago, then this morning the snow was melting into a tropical fog. Is it Spring, is it Winter? Or some neverworld in between?

Our very first very vegan Thanksgiving was a smashing success. My plan going forward? I'm going to be a freak for the Quinoa. That's right, I'm taking it to a new level, giving up the processed flour for the whole grain. But did you know that Quinoa is not actually a grain? Look it up on Wikipedia if you get a chance. Those Incas were onto something.

This morning when I walked out to the workout shed there was less than an inch of snow crunching under foot. Now, just a couple of hours later, the friendly deer has to dig her snout into a few inches of fluff to root out her berries. What a wonderful day for a wood-fire and a snuggle-wuggle with our children. Then we prep for what is sure to be a most vegalicious Thanksgiving.

Self-portrait in the boonies. Finally I threw in the towel and got with the Facebook. Old high school friends, seeing a picture of Jake which I posted, say he's a dead ringer for me in my younger years. But look at that mug--I'm all nose. Jake, the lucky devil, has a perfect little pug nose. He's a kinder and gentler version of me, too, but I guess that's another story. So what have we established in my time doing this blog? I can't sing, I'm a mechanical nit-wit, and my nose is threatening to swallow my face. It's a wonder that I function at all...

This is the Machias River as viewed from the old railroad bridge in Whitneyville. I thought it went well with the following haiku, penned by my wonderful mother-in-law, Judy Cirillo:

River nature's gift
Again you are unsullied
Shimmer with sheer joy

All submissions are welcome, people, so send me something.