I can feel some fall melancholy coming on; a mild glumness as if some minor dementor is flitting around and bringing down my mood. So far this doesn’t feel major or problematic. It’s more like a mild sore on the brain.

When this happens the anodyne is to have things for which to look forward. It is time to fill up my dance card as much as possible. Now is the time to inchoate ‘autumn rituals’ particularly planning All Hallow’s Eve. This year Hallowe’en is on a Friday and The Lovely Neighbor is going to be in town; she will revive the block party. It promises to be quite a frolic.  It’s time for me to get out the trimmings and start working on the annual Hallowe’en dinner.  These manic defenses are always good to keep me busy and not get too into the doldrums of fall melancholy.

I’ve made my first batch of infused bourbon. This consists of carmelizing chopped apples in apple juice and brown sugar, then adding cloves and cinnamon sticks, and topping the cooled concoction with bourbon*.  Let this sit in the fridge for a few days, strain, and add some ginger ale – voila!  I think it’s lovely but Someone found it disagreeable. Someone doesn’t like whisky or bourbon.  It is not the grounds for separation.

We got a room for a Palm Springs in November! I always enjoy going to PS. Chums DougT and Leon AKA The Wild One will be there; I hope Fearsome Beard will drive in and grace us with his presence (or at least his whiskers). This may require coaxing and/or bribery, and if these don’t work, blackmail. **

Prior to Hallowe’en weekend Someone has us scheduled to go to several concerts. They range from operas (live and HD) to Ms. Susan Boyle (the dear!). I would like to stay awake; I need to avoid alcohol and heavy meals prior to kick-off.  Espresso and/or Nuvigil may be taken.

* For once I DO want ‘rubbish”. There is no point using $$ liquor infusion-based cocktails. I had purchase some. I felt a bit sheepish standing in the express lane late Saturday night with a bottle of “Ten High” and nothing else. I could read the Albertson’s check-out lady’s mind: “Wino!”

** I don’t really have any ‘dirt’ on the fellow, but I’ve learned if I make things up they usually turn out to be true.