Dropping Down for Thanksgiving

 Grogu getting ready for some Thanksgiving grub:

Originally a helium balloon for a celebration over a month ago, he has been gradually settling down until he arrived just at table height in time for the big meal!

Keeping up that midichlorian count turns out to require a feast...

Baffled by Baffles

I've heard French people exclaim "Baf!" since I was a wee little lad.  I was always interpreted it to mean something along the lines of "whatever" or, at the very least, a dismissive exclamation.

I've long known that to be baffled by something is to be perplexed by it, confused by it, etc.

I've also known that a baffle is a device used to redirect or frustrate the flow of light, noise, fluid, or heat.

The o.g. use is apparently for fire:

Well, as often is the case, these sounds/words are actually related.  It all came together for me suddenly while Isabelle was driving us home and I changed the flow of warm air from our feet to the windshield to get rid of the condensation.  I referred to it as changing the orientation of the baffles inside the air ducts of the car, but then I quickly confessed "I'm not sure I used that word correctly..."

Knowing the origins of words is like understanding the mathematics behind phenomena:  rather than being perplexed and frustrated and diverted by looking at things the wrong way, you can just look at the underlying symmetries and relationships.  From this new perspective it's all so simple as to warrant a mere "Bah, humbug!"

(Scrooge was, indeed, baffled by Christmas, wasn't he?)

AI Art

 I finally decided to dabble in the trendy fashion of AI generated 'art'.  Here are my first few attempts using the site https://creator.nightcafe.studio/

First Up:

-I uploaded the picture of me on the banner here at Riddicisms and asked to have it rendered in an Andy Warhol style:

Next:

I thought about the classic "am I the butterfly dreaming the world or was I dreaming I was a butterfly?":

And Then:

I tried to get an image to go with the poem I wrote a while back "Said/Unsaid" : (my favorite image thus far)

Finally, I tried to get an image to go with my old post about time, free will, and death:

Plums and Prunes

Prunes in America have always been associated with old people to me: some kind of vaguely unattractive thing they would eat for medicinal purposes.

But as we often do in English, the dried fruit we name after the French word for the fruit itself: prune is the French word for plum.

When I was kid, my grandparents had a couple of plum trees in their backyard.  I have vivid memories of carefully selecting the perfectly ripe plum (perhaps a bit over-ripe actually) on the tree and eating it right there, standing in its shade.  (pro-tip: always pick the plum on the shady side of the tree; it will still be surprisingly cool even deep into the day).  The sweet freshness coupled with the softness of the flesh of the plum could not be beat.  Sometimes it would dribble down my chin and I would lean forward so as not to drip on my feet.  It was some kind of holy communion with nature for a young Kenny.

I long ago stopped even trying to eat a plum since they invariably disappointed me.  The version of plums I can access now just don't match up to childhood memory.

"Prunes?" you ask. Well, yes, I buy those in bulk from Costco.  Is there a metaphor for youth and old age lurking in this post somewhere.  Why, no... not at all...