A stalking

Summer has finally departed Michigan. My friends and I have been out this weekend reveling in the falling temperatures and the changing leaves.

Michigan looks splendid in the autumn and I, like all foxes, look lovely against the fall landscape. My coloring is particularly stunning against the yellows and browns of fall follage. Saturday, I took my friend Shortbread out to see Farmer Maize's cornfield.

As we admired the graceful dance of the cornstalks in the autumn breeze, I got the distinct impression that we were not alone. No, not space aliens. (I believe they reside primarily in Jersey and the Southwest.) No, there was something else in that cornfield with us. We were being stalked among the stalks. Perhaps even a cereal killer was lurking.

I was quite beside myself until Shortbread demonstrated his keen tracking talents. (He is part blood hound, but mostly plaid terrier.) It was a turkey! Alas, before we could even turn around, he was gone.

And we were left singing that old blues song "Long gone like a turkey in the corn." I hope he comes back around again. You can never have too many friends. In the meantime, I've got a new restaurant to visit.

Sincerely,
Creme Brule

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

No, I am not six weeks early. And no the heat has not gotten to me although I do have to say that, as a rule, foxes do not like excessive heat. It rumples our fur and makes our tails look limp.

Today, is Thanksgiving Day for our cool Canadian neighbors. They realize that the end of November is no time to be driving (skidding) over the hills and through the snow-packed woods to Grandmother's house or anywhere else, for that matter. October is a much better time for a harvest celebration, even if the Pilgrims were late in getting themselves organized.

My friend Shortbreadarrived this afternoon from his home in Almonte, Ontario, Canada. He said that when he left Windsor, on the Canadian-US border, it was five below and snowing hard. I told him it was 88 degrees and sunny here in Michigan. Even after we got that old C versus F issue sorted out, he still felt faint.

We decided it was much too hot to roast a turkey. Shortbread suggested that any turkey unlucky enough to be standing outside today was probably already roasted. Clearly, the thing to do was indulge in a little ice cream...at which time we discovered that the best place to spend the day was actually in the freezer.

So Happy Thanksgiving to all our friends in Canada. May your ice cream be cold and your turkey frozen!

Sincerely,
Creme Brule

F is For Finally Fantastically Fall

You thought I'd say that F is for Foxes, didn't you? Ha! We foxes are never predictable.

I love fall. It's the time to rake (and jump in) all those gloriously tousled leaves....to pull on your favorite sweat top and join your friends in a little friendly football...to chomp into a crisp, sweet apple....to take a nap in the fading autumn sun. Yes, fall is supurb!

Alas, nothing gold can stay. (Foxes know lots of great quotes and are quite poetic.) Soon, the luscious days of autumn will fade into the blustery chill of November. That means that in the midst of the long walks, the pumpkin carving and the wagon rides, we all must do a little work. Sigh.


My list of "must-do" projects includes: putting out autumn decorations. There is no reason to rush from summer flowers to Christmas reindeer. I prefer artfully arranging cornstalks harvested straight from my summer garden but you could try pumpkin pyramids or hanging gourds. I like to check on my mums to make sure they are thriving and happy. Remember that mums, like the rest of us, like a good cold drink on a warm fall day. While I prefer apple cider, they like water. And fall is a good time to tackle some of those long-put-off restoration projects like reglazing the donuts...I mean the windows and touching up the paint.

However, the most crucial task you must complete...against which you fight the ever ticking clock...is to visit old friends before they head south for the winter. I happened to just nip into my neighborhood ice cream parlor on the LAST day they were open for service. Ack!

Remember your priorities and, above all else, don't eat all the ice cream. Save some for me!

Sincerely,
Creme Brule

no, no, no

Pistachio says she makes tablecloths from leaves. She never makes clothes from leaves. She says that's what Eve did. Sorry. A little slip of the paw and everyone is up in arms. Geesh. I'm going to eat some French silk ice cream and ignore the critics....

Sincerely,
Creme Brule

Boxing for Christ

This is my friend Pistachio. She's sort of like Martha Stewart without the prison record or the nasty temperament or the weird hairstyle. Pistachio says she's nothing like Martha; she's a little miffed at me. I can tell because she only gave me a small piece of her homemade Hawaiian plum-kiwi sweet bread.

What I mean is that Pistachio likes to wear aprons. She makes table clothes from pressed leaves. She cans her own mint jelly (from mint she grows herself) and she knows 16 ways to use paper towel rolls to make tasteful holiday gifts.

Pistachio loves to jump into a new project. Her favorite is Operation Christmas Child. Each year she collects new items such as combs, wash cloths, small toys, pencils, crayons, tooth brushes and such. She puts them in a shoe box. She takes the boxes (she usually gets carried away and puts together dozens) to her local drop-off center. She usually takes snacks such as cheese tarts, petite fours and mango muffins for the staff too. (If you can work it out, try to get there the same day she does--the snacks are unbelievable.)

From there, the boxes are sorted and sent to children around the world who would receive no other Christmas presents. The best part is that the folks at Samaritan's Purse, who organize this, put a copy of the story of Jesus in each box, written for kids in their native language.

Pistachio says that the message of Christ is the real gift. She says the boxes are just a way to give it. I think Pistachio is right. She wants me to remind you that the deadline for dropping off your box is the second week of November, that you can find more info at www.samaritanspurse.org and that you don't have to bring snacks for the volunteers with you. Of course, a thank you never went a miss.

Sincerely,
Creme Brule

E=mc2

Actually, I have no idea what that means. I never could stay awake through physics class except that one week we got to play with lazers. No, it's not because foxes are lazy. We just don't have any natural interests in gravity, inertia and vectors. Don't vectors sound sort of violent?

But I digress. I discovered--okay, Charles Torte pointed out to me--that I've been going through the alphabet, using a different letter for my titles. I didn't realize that. I guess I am naturally orderly and methodical. Nutmeg Squirrel found that statement funny. She laughed so hard she fell out of her tree.

Anyway, here I am at E and I realized I couldn't think of anything good to say about E. I don't like E. Sure, there is Ernie of the Sesame Street fame but there's also empty, eggnog, exercise and exams. The bad E words outweigh the good ones.

Therefore, I will keep this brief and look forward to the next letter: F!
Sincerely,
Creme Brule

D is for Daily or Delusional?

Charles Torte told me that I am supposed to update my blog daily. Daily? Ack!

Look people, I understand you need me to rid the world of all these offensive misconceptions about foxes. I know you need my wit and my wisdom. I know that your flock to my blog, eagerly awaiting my insight, ever hopeful that I will let my award winning hot chocolate recipe slip.

But I simply cannot blog every single day. Sure, there are fox detractors who will say I do not blog daily because foxes are lazy, unorganized, irresponsible. Not true! I've got important responsibilities--mowing the yard, doing laundry, planning picnics. And how do you think I am able to provide you with thought-provoking blogs without moments of intense repose?

No, no. You will simply have to make do with a few posts a week. I'm sure you will agree with me that it is the quality and not the quantity that is of essence here.

Sincerely,
Creme Brule