The Word of the Day was absinthe.

absinthe \AB-sinth\ noun
1 : wormwood; especially : a common European wormwood
(Artemisia absinthium)
2 : a green liqueur which is flavored with wormwood, anise,
and other aromatic herbs and commercial production of which is
banned in many countries for health concerns

Around here we’ve had long discussions about absinthe–it seems to come up once a year or so, and for the most part the discussion is “who would want to drink something that tastes like licorice?” Not me, as I find anise repulsive. But that doesn’t make the subject any less fascinating.

Plus, there are things like this:
The Alarming Effects of Absinthe on Guinea Pigs

I love Neil Gaiman’s weblog.

Hello Neil! Seeing as X-mas soon is here, I was wondering how you told your children that there is no real living Santa Claus. Did you tell them as soon as they popped the question? Same thing with the easterbunny and different types of man-made “stories” :) Much appreciated if you answer this, I know you are busy.
Thanks from a big fan in Sweden, Fredrik Josefsson.

My children have, on occasion, strongly suggested that there might not be a Father Christmas. They also seem very doubtful about the existence of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and the Weird Knife Lady In The Attic. I humour them by pretending to go along with all this, but I keep my own counsel on the matter.

A friend of mine, who’s an “actual engineer”, tried this and swears it really works…

“Simply send 6 x 10 ⁵⁰ atoms of Hydrogen to the Star System at the top of the list, cross off that star system, then put your Star System at the bottom of the list and send it to 100 other Star Systems. Within one-tenth of a Galactic Rotation you will receive enough hydrogen to power your civilization until entropy reaches its maximum! IT REALLY WORKS!”

While walking this morning I was thinking about the power that words have. And how I have never been able to use my powers for good.

The first time I noticed the power of words was when I pulled a tornado out of the clear blue sky.

We were driving through Kansas, the first visit for me. Coming from hilly West (by God) Virginia, I was amazed by the expanse of sky and the horizon that seemed to go on forever.

My comment was something like, “I can’t believe how much sky there is! Thunderstorms must be incredible out here!”

The sky immediately darkened, and within a short time the first drops of rain were falling. We turned on the radio only to hear a tornado warning.

Usually, though, what usually happens is I’ll say something like, “wouldn’t it really suck if such and such a bad thing happened?” At which point said bad thing immediately occurs.

I think I inherited this power from my mother. I have a clear memory of pulling up in front of my aunt’s house, and my mom telling my father, “be careful! You’re going to hit the curb and we’ll get a flat!” I don’t have to tell you what immediately happened, do I? The strange part, however, is that I can not ever remember my dad hitting the curb when parking. Ever. It was as if her words drew the car towards the curb and flattened the tire.

So I’m careful now with what I say. Often I’ll start a sentence and then slap my hand over my mouth to keep the words from escaping.

But I still try to use my powers for good. Hoping that one day it’ll take.

Wouldn’t it be great if I found a million dollars?