I have been negligent.

It’s very cold these days. There’s just enough time in the morning between turning on the heating when I get my sorry arse out of bed and leaving the apartment for the air to warm up to a point I can actually move my fingers (important for using the indicator when driving – something few people round here bother to do (perhaps they have very cold apartments – or maybe SUVs don’t have indicators)).

This evening there is a smell of steak and kidney pie floating around outside my apartment. And an unexpected mass of mushrooms have appeared, just in time for Thanksgiving. They would make a wonderful stew, unless they are poisonous in which case they would make a terrible stew.

I went to my first Hash last Thursday. It was very refreshing to get together with a bunch of random people, united in their persuit of drinking and r*nning, and always interesting to see the underside of the neighbourhoods you r*n through. This time we ran along a single track railway which used to be used for transporting apricots – there used to be a lot of apricot orchards here before the tech boom. And through a neighbourhood which smelt of horses, past horses breathing noisily and unseen in a field, up a hill with the cars little lanterns snaking up the highway some distance away. This Thursday the Hash is having a Thanksgiving pot luck, which I will probably go to. The Hash’s turkey trot might just save my bacon this Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is, for many people in America, their favourite feast. It is not religious, and compared to Christmas not commercial. It doesn’t have the baggage of that weirdo Santa Claus. And from my point of view it has pumpkin pie, which is delicious.