Can't get enough spooky lip balm

How did previous generations get by without Target? I ask you.

My cat is possessed, probably

So this has happened several times now. Shouldn't be surprising, should it? And yet, it always it. Seeing your cat's toys arranged into eerily perfect, symetrical shapes is something I guess you never get over.

I was packing for a trip to LA last week, running around the house, as you do. I took a break for dinner and saw this inches from me on the living room floor:

Yup. It's all true. I have not doctored these images and I really have no reason to arrange them myself and then lie about it. (Except I guess it does make a good story and me a bit more popular.) But i'd like to think I'm not as pathetic as that.

The other images are here and here.

Stuffed pumpkins

I am no fan of pumpkin pie. Or pumpkin soup or pumpkin ice cream. And this has never seemed right to me for obvious reasons. So in an attempt to eat actual pumpkin this h'ween season, I decided to build my own skaren-friendly squash dish.

After be-heading a couple of mini, sugar pie pumpkins, I scraped out the seeds and pulp and put them in the oven to roast whole. This takes about half an hour, so multi-tasking by watching a vintage horror movie, like Hammer's Horror of Dracula (which runs about an hour + 15) is advised.

Then I sauteed shallots, garlic and parmesan because those taste good on everything in my world and added chopped up squash. Topped it with more parmesan and put it under the broiler.

The result? Not a bad early fall Sunday dinner. Next time, I'll experiment with some thyme or sage and meat it up with some sausage.

Of course, I also roasted the seeds, which were maybe the best part. In fact, they were the perfect thing to float in my pre-dinner martini.

The most wondrrrrrrful time of year

is here at last! And I, who have no sweet tooth, feel compelled nonetheless to celebrate this day with a sugar cookie for breakfast. Yes, it's in the shape of a pumpkin and it's the kind I used to get from the grocery store when I was a snot-nosed kid. Only now they sell them in ritzy coffee joints, this decade's version of the fern bar.

But I digress. It's lovely no? Let the scary crap begin!