#themansionwitch

“Really? I rather like it. It’s a very fall thing to eat, isn’t it? That and apple pie and pecan pie, I suppose. But to each their own." 

Plopping the turkey onto the holder, he remarked, “The kitchen here sure has changed...I remember how it looked when I first came here back in Louisiana, and then it changed a little when this place got moved out here to Anaheim, and now it’s changed even more, ay...”

“Edda… Edda… … … Edda… Do you ever miss–miss… D'you ever miss home? I sometimes think –I thunk about it a lot.”

He looked back in her in idle surprise-she spoke Gaelic? Giving a smile, he asked, “Oh, yes? And how do you celebrate Lá Fhéile Pádraig, then?” There was a banquet and a dance held in the ballroom whenever it was celebrated at the Mansion, with everyone garbed in green-Randall himself broke out a specifically emerald-green suit of his own making, special for the day, and wore a shamrock on his lapel for it. He still didn’t join in the ‘drowning the shamrock’ trend-placing it in the bottom of a glass of beer or whiskey-however.

     “Constance always gets snippy around the holidays, and that snake they insist on keeping up there rarely helps matters. One thing lead to another and– I thought it might be best to let her work things out on her own.”

"Self reliance? Yeah, same. Everyone needs someone else at some point in their lives... uh, existence, whether they want to admit it or not."

"Hakuna matata, as the children say. I wouldn't have done any better. How's Finster?"

“Don’t worry,” he assured, adding, “As I said, I started early, give myself plenty of time to cook this bird-I’m sure we’ll all last if it takes a while.” After all, dinner wasn’t for a few hours, and there were plenty of other little snacks around to have in case anyone get peckish.