The woods feel Swedish.

This sight feels familiar.

5.7kg (12.5lbs) of wild mushrooms.

Which means hours of cleaning.

Hours of frying.

And a big mess.

But it’s worth it.

Mushroom picking indicates that it might be fall.

Which it is.

Fall makes Italians feel like tough guys.

Fall is when cats come home. This makes them angry.

But they get over it.

Fall also hints at upcoming holidays.

But this is not the right holiday.

There’s a tastier holiday, first.

Full of calf liver.

And cannolis.

And squash.

And turkey.

And friends.

And drinks.

And desolation.

After the holiday, I learn to shuck.

Then lose our bed.

Then find a new one.

And then it’s time for another holiday.

Sigma can’t wait.

And then I get stranded in Frankfurt.

But eventually make it to dinner.

Which has donuts.

And Dolly.

This holiday is notorious for its cookies.

They claim their first victim.

Dolly is the next to take the bait.

Then Michelle.

No, wait, that one is for Russ.

The instigators watch with pleasure as the crowd succumbs.

Cookie madness is upon us.

After cookies, it’s a nice time for a walk.

Then it is a nice time for rotten eggs.

And jellyfish.

Then maybe an avocado toast?

Brandon does not approve.

As I depart, I claim the most valuable of all family heirlooms.

And get back just in time for a new year.

Here’s to a photogenic 2018.