FINALLY

THE EVE

 Okay, Gentle Readers and Good Friends, the big day is nearly upon us.

Regardless if you're celebrating with a raft of family and/or friends or if you've toned it down to just yourselves or if you're not marking the day at all, the curator of Oddball wishes you all a happy experience.

And whether or not "the scent of football" (what was I thinking?) hovers around your Thursday happening, I hope it's a good day.

As Comical Carol reminded me yesterday, it's only one more way to launch ourselves on to Yet Another Holiday!

IT'S GETTING CLOSER

The skies here are overcast this morning.

There's a light sprinkling of rain out there.

The temperature is in the mid 50's

Feels like Thanksgiving weather for Arizona's Central Highlands.

The scent of football is in the air.

SWMBO is in the kitchen, prepping some dishes for The Big Feast.

Two days and counting.

Meanwhile, beware of astrologers!

SEASONAL DESSERT

 I like pie.

Apple, lemon, blueberry, cherry, chocolate, coconut cream.

Any of 'em.

But perhaps my favorite is the one that is prominent on many Thanksgiving dinner tables.

And I'm not talkin' about pecan pie, though I know many people prefer it.

And I'm not talkin' about sweet potato pie, though that is a great substitution for people whose tooth may not be as sweet as mine.

I'm talkin' about the king of Thanksgiving pies.

Pumpkin pie!

But not everyone likes it and I personally know of one person to whom the following pictures illustrate, for them, the *only* way to enjoy pumpkin pie.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 I got up a little after 11 o'clock last night to look for the vaunted Lunar Eclipse and couldn't see it out of any of our windows.

Then I was up again sometime after 4 o'clock this morning and saw what appeared, without my spectacles, to be a full moon shining brightly.

I guess my view of the astronomical event was . . . eclipsed.

Meantime in Washington, Kevin McCarthy was talking.

And talking.

And talking.

It seems like a good time for some laughter.

I hope you found some lightness in your attitudes from these feeble attempts at comedy.

Once more thanks to all of my contributors.

These weekly forays into frivolity would not be possible without you.

Now everyone listen up: enjoy yourselves greatly these next few days as we all brace for the big day of feasting, football and family feuds.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

PLAN AHEAD

 Well, I hope you're ready.

The big Feasting Day of the year is only a week away now.

When I was a wee lad, there was always a huge bronzed bird placed on the table in front of my carving-knife-armed father.

In later years, Judy and I scaled it back to a turkey breast, both favoring white meat over dark.

And in many years of late, having learned that she doesn't really like turkey, our Thanksgiving meal has become a roast pork tenderloin.

The sides remain generally intact though.

Well, whatever way you do it, it's time to be getting prepared.

Good luck.

CROWS VS. RAVENS

 No, it's not another blog post about football or some other sport.

I know when to quit.

This is about a matter of controversy in the field of ornithology.

Now in case you've forgotten your high school studies, ornithology is defined as a branch of zoology dealing with the study of birds.

And today we are going to solve a long-standing argument about those big black birds.

Specifically, crows and ravens, and which is which.

I have long railed at people who call them all "crows", when frequently the bird they've spotted is a "raven".

My way of identifying the two is pretty simple.

Crows stick to the countryside while ravens are more social and come into town to raid your dumpsters and hang around your parking lots.

But today a friend has sent me a new method of differentiating between the two species and I hereby offer it to all of you.

I have chosen to keep my friend's identity private to prevent him from being shunned in public places.