Birth Celebration for Aunt Glo

     It's such a pleasure to go down to a neighbor's home and partake not just of the food festivities, but the multi-generational gatherings

 that seem to so often to take place at the Carpenter's domicile, one example of Eminent Domain. Characters of all inclusive ages congregate

 here and share their wealth of experiences, so if one keeps a proverbial mouth shut, and ears peaked, one generally picks up several pieces of witty dialogue that can be used later in a personal allegorical story.
                  Aunt Glo in the Dark was celebrating her birthright, and of course she remembered when I made my last batch of roasted tomato sauce (which she so generously referred to as sphagetti sauce) and showed her piquant aversion to chickens, asking at the time, if this particular "Rooster" was the one who laid the eggs.
                 Walter, one of the newest people we were to meet at the Carpenter's was affluent with numerous subjects, including bee stories, lots of incredibly useful cultural information on the Jewish people and Israel, and some cannon fodder about the beer and alcohol down the Rhine River, where Joyce and I, along with several family members are going to be in December for the Christmas Markets.  He also had some ribald tales and engineering stories about gas lighting, both in the design and installation phases. I, of course had to confide in him that I was grateful for the stuff and would be using it to implement my usual embellishments later on, protecting the copyrights and changing the nature of the information to protect the innocent.
               Lots of commentary on the State of the Union, and the concepts of typical global distribution of wealth, and the bad fiscal policies that seem to be endangering the fabric of community around the world, along with the nasty rhetoric, uncivil discourse, undulating speculations both in the stock market and the Tea Baggers rookie misunderstandings in protocol situations.  Ah well, silly me, getting all tangled up in Blue and stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues again.
              The food was delightful with pasta, teriyaki boneless chicken thighs, fresh corn, and various profiles in courage that with all the chatter going on, I didn't really pay enough attention to.  We finished up the estuary of culinary delights with fresh apple and berry pie, vanilla ice cream and some homemade Baklava...Hava Negela, Hava Negela, Cum Bi Ya, or however that quaint Bonanza of harangues go.
              This is Steven representing the lost souls of Masada, hanging around with King Herod, so I can watch the annual flock of birds migrating on the Dead Sea, while Israel, like George Armstrong Custer felt being surrounded by the Sioux Indians, on the Little Bighorn River, imbibing the dismal initiations of violence, even though being very well prepared for the onslaughts, from their Muslim compatriots, even though they shared the same first Patriarch of the Hebrews in Abraham, Child