Mutterings of a Mad Woman

Today I'm off to frolic in the Distillery District for the last day of their Christmas Market. It's the closest thing Toronto has to a traditional market like the ones in Europe (I've been blessed with having the chance to attend one in Munich).

It will be a full-on Christmas injection: carolers, mulled wine, reindeer, Santa and probably the act of spending too much money.

The one thing it will be missing is Krampus, so I thought I'd share this video of the Krampus parade in Austria. I know we often throw around the word amazing, but in this instance it's not only fitting, but perhaps understated.

Now excuse me while I plot a way to convince Yetch to take me to Austria for next year's parade.

No sudden movements.

There's a fairly frightening creature near my desk.

His golden Dagon adornments confirm my suspicion he's connected to Innsmouth and make me ill at ease, as do his claws and teeth.

And that stare. 

He got here by way of Georgia. I don't know yet what he wants. Or if I can use his arrival to my advantage.

For now, we both wait. And watch.

I am one of those people who, when pressed, will admit to being a skeptic and pessimist; that I believe, overall, the world is full of terrible beings. 

While people can be wonderful in moments, I still think we encounter more negative spirits than positive ones. Or at the very least, tend to show each other our more selfish sides than sharing our giving, loving selves.

There are few things (and I mean a trickle in the stream) in this world that always reminded me that we're not all lost in this bungled existence. At the top of the list was Ludo. 

I've had many dogs throughout my life, but this creature was different. He was some strange little benevolent gentleman in a furry body; my touchstone whenever I had just about given up on hoping the universe would redeem itself.

Today we took the old man for his last car ride. Before heading to our final destination, we stopped at his favourite place in the world (besides home): a leaf-lined path through the woods up north. We didn't stay long or travel far, but even in the short stroll he was able to take in his weakened state, he seemed more alive than he has the past few weeks (though still heartbreakingly ill). Or maybe more at peace than he has been. 

Death is sad, yes. And losing a creature you've a bond with is devastating. But more than that, the world moves on, not knowing it's lost one of the few lights in the gloom. So today, in my own small way with this post, I wanted to make sure as many people as possible knew that one of those lights has been extinguished.

So raise a glass to the old man. Bid him a deserved farewell. Toast all things and people that bring light into our lives. And tonight I'll light a candle because my world has gotten noticeably darker.

Up early on this Sunday morning (thanks to change in the clocks and Yetch's inability to turn his alarm off). While making pumpkin pie I saved some of the filling to infuse in milk and make myself a pumpkin latte.

Halloween over? Never. It simply lurks.