octobers are basically made and broken by lunar alignment. this year the full moon comes on the twenty-sixth, which gives me bioassay tingles all over the place. we went to the ‘fway last night, after dark, for weekly casserole-cooking extravaganza supplies. stephen is to create bite-sized squares of macaroni and cheese, deep fat fried in peanut oil. the recipe calls for 18 eggs, and requires an intermediate day to congeal. andrew filled the dutch oven with his usual array of quality ingredients, because he has high standards, immense patience, and a penchant for bolognese. the rest of us looked on enviously and tried to capture the errant splatter of bacon fat. constrained by a recent dirth of glass ovenwear, i filled my aluminum stock pot with roasted vegetables, which may become soup-impromptu at some point midweek. by midnight, the kitchen was an eighty-degree garlic steambath. i am not one to complain on a rainy night.
the house next door is making goat noises now, and we are nearly all in attendance. i am sure that this will compliment their backyard rooster, whose body clock is reasonably well-tuned but sometimes falters in the light-polluted hours between two and five. as dinner-time approaches, everyone is decked out in long sleeves and tuning up the collective record of common sense in the face of exploding grease. not even the ethical violation of health food’s very most basic tenets will discourage me from being included. note: deep fat fried cinnamon-sugar rice cake. note also: intense skepticism. there is no shortage. my head is a vinyl outbuilding, and it hurts. delta(chairs) [the change in expectations].
