Science headache

The latest concept in the world of physics seems to be that the entire Universe is just one huge hologram. Does this mean that God has one huge disc that has everything on it? This could explain alternate realities if God has burned some other copies. The whole hologram theory just confuses me. I thought that black holes were hard to understand before. Now they may just be huge spinning discs with the data for the Universe on them. First came the concept of the Big Bang, then came the concept of the Big Crunch. Could the Big Crunch come if God hits the defragmentation button? If we are simply holograms, when I am lying in the dark why can't I stick my finger through my chest? Could Dark Matter simply be smudges on the disc? When we die do we simply end up in the Trash Bin? Sheldon Cooper, where are you when I need you?

Pants on Fire

I have been monitoring the stances of the Republican candidates. Are they even reading their speeches beforehand? Sentence after sentence, they seem to contradict what they said moments ago. They all seem to want to tamper with the Constitution. What was it that Thomas More said about the Law? It appears that they would like to turn the Supreme Court into a branch of Dewy, Cheatum, and Howe. They all want to mess with the health care system but no one is proposing that the legislators stop receiving totally free health care. The Japanese and the English and the Scandanavians all seem to have solved the problem of health care but no one is proposing to follow any of their examples. The natural resources of the United States should be the property of the people, as Norway has determined, and all of that oil and gas revenue might pay for a pretty good health care system. A man's view on abortion is about as relevant as a woman's view on emasculation. As an old Italian lady told the Pope when he made a speech on birht control "You no playa da game, you no maka da rules.".
Herman Cain seems to be the only candidate that has some solid ideas. I don't know how workable they are but at least he is not constantly backsliding on them. He may have some touching problems in his past but consider the former holders of the Executive office. Roosevelt had a mistress, Eisenhower had a girlfriend, Kennedy was responsible for our immense crop of wild oats, Johnson was a notorious rake, and Clinton should have provided free dry cleaning for the White House staff. The Legislature chose to pillory Clinton. Pretty strong medicine for an organization that gives new meaning to the phrase "Turning over a new Page.". That leaves Truman, Nixon, and the Bushes untainted. Truman's motto was "The Buck Stops Here!'. The others had a policy of "MMMM, bucks. Einie, Menie, Minie, Mo, How can I spend all of this dough.". I must exclude the elder Bush from all of this bile. I think that he was an honorable man. Jimmy Carter is one of the most admirable human beings that ever lived. Truman is gone. Jimmy, how about one more run? Romney just wants to have something to pass the time while he waits for a vacancy in the Trinity.

The Wonderer

When I was young, I used to wonder "What will become of me?". All that I wanted was a family and to become a marine biologist. Now I wonder "How could this have all happened?". I got the family but I broke it. I gave up on the biologist thing and took a dull repetitive job to make the family work. I looked forward to gravitas but I did not give up my childish ways.
I still have dreams but I have given up on dreaming. The days are dwindling down but the fire of the boy is still an ember in my mind. The mind is filled with ashes but there is still the glow of what could be. "Que sera, sera.". A small home, a large piece of land, a stocked larder, a woodstove, and my family around me are the things of the dreams but they no longer press on my mind. It is unwise to press the mind for it might eliminate the wrinkles and the wrinkles are where the glow is. To have dreams without dreaming is to say "I wanted more but I will take what is coming and be glad of it. It has been a good run.".

Caffiend

The forecast for tons of snow was wrong in this area. We got a few inches but the forecast for downed trees was correct. The power was out for several hours. I awakened about 6 A.M.. There was no power. That meant no coffee. I heated water with a candle placed under a small pot. The result was about one half of a cup of tepid coffee. The power came back on about 10:30 A.M.. Considering that it was a Sunday and the power was out all over the region, the power company did a wonderful job of restoring the power. I sat in the kitchen with the Sun pouring in through the window and read and sipped tepid coffee. The power came back on, acompanied by an accolade of beeps from all of the electronic things. There are so many things in life that now go BEEP. It used to be just the Roadrunner that went BEEP BEEP. It would be good to hear a healthy CLANG once and a while. It used to be that even if the power was out, the telephone would still work. The telephone company has its own power and batteries. None of the telephones worked during the outage as they all need to be plugged into a recepticle to work. I do miss the Plain Old Telephones that were black, could be dropped out a third story window and still work, and had a dial instead of going beep beep. I also miss Carmallow Bars and Welch's Fudge, Pizza that was not buried under two inches of goop, and the old L.L. Bean catalogue, the one that had fishing flies and down jackets that were good to thirty below. I miss Casanov's Bulkies and Nepco knackwurst and Orange Crush in the brown bottle and the big Flexible Flyer sleds. I think that I miss my sanity most of all.

The day No Child was born

Last night was full of disconcerting dreams and thoughts. I kept returning to the day No Child was born. No Child was born just moments after Wonder Child was born. No Child heralded the end of many things. It was the end of trust and the end of tenderness. It was the end of the comforting feeling that no matter what happened, someone had your back. Disturbing dark feelings are rampant now. It will take a while to cleanse them.

Opposition

I watch two television shows. Two and a Half Men and The Big Bang Theory. They are now on opposing channels at the same time. I am opting for The Big Bang as Two and a Half Men is not the same without Charle Sheen's little bit of evil as a condiment. The Big Bang has the classic comedy situation where everyone around Leonard is crazy, therefore he is seen as the odd one. It reminds me of the old Burns and Allen show.
Last night was full of dreams and periods of awakening. The dreams were not scary but many of them concerned things from long ago. I awakened once and realized that I could not remember William Wallace's name. I was pretty sure that the first letter of his name was W and therefore started adding each vowel to the W and when I reached i it came to me. It is reminiscent of Grendle. I now have a pneumonic to recall Grendle. I picture the monster dressed in a G string. It may be a little odd but it works. Wallace will now forever be dressed as Willie Wonka.

Looking Up

Things are looking up. The landlord managed to clear the drain problems. That old man knows what he is doing. He cleared twenty feet of solid muck out of the drain using several lengths of pipe.The toilet now flushes well, the bathroom sink now drains, and the kitchen sinks now drain.
I am going to have to replace the Halloween candy again. This time it was Butterfingers and Peanut Butter Cups. If Halloween doesn't come soon I am going to have a serious case of sugar diabetes. The weather has turned seriously cool, not freezing but seriously cool. Under two blankets, this is really good sleeping weather.

Destructo

Three days ago the landlord's son knocked on the door with a plunger in his hand. He said that he came to unplug the toilet. I told him that the toilet wasn't plugged up. He asked for a cigarette. I made the mistake of letting him in. The camel's nose was now under the tent. He noticed that there was a small amount of water at the base of the toilet. I had just finished mopping and must have missed a spot. He took the toilet off of its mounting. He was wearing one of those seventy-five dollar Home Depot tool belts with just a hammer in it. He had busted off the toilet mounting bolts and did not have another wax ring to replace the one that is always destroyed when you remove a toilet. He sent his Father off to Home Depot to get the parts. I made the mistake of offering him a cup of coffee. He noticed that the water in the bathroom sink was turned off. I told him that it was because the faucet drips and the sink does not drain. He turned the water back on and went and got some nuclear drain cleaner and poured it into the bathroom sink. I told him that I didn't think that the bathroom drain was the problem because the kitchen sinks, which are on the same drain line, have not drained in four years. My Father used o tell me "Nils, the only time you should open your mouth is to change feet.". He went to the cellar and got some drain cleaner that you need to be wearing a Haz-Mat suit to use. He poured it into the kitchen sinks. It is still there. It was then that he told me that he was a plumber for three years. I suspect that I know who installed the plumbing here. He left and may be back today.
The status now is: 1. Toilet is backed up and now actually leaking at the base.
2. Bathroom faucet is now happily dripping away.
3. Kitchen sinks are half full of a toxic brew.
Before he left he told me that he was going to fix the porch stairs. I may soon need a parachute to get down. He noticed the leak in the kitchen ceiling I told him that his Father has been aware of the leak since April first.
The man is a walking disaster. My Brother diagnosed the drainage problem months ago. The sinks drain line was installed horizontally which is not right to do. My Brother is amazing. He tunes up his own oil burner, he installs ducts to combat his ice dam problem. He put a new floor,ceiling, and walls in his kitchen and is building new cabinets. During the recent flooding, he rigged up a bilge pump in his cellar to run off of a car battery in case the power went off. When am I going to learn to listen to him and avoid "Mack and Meyer for Hire"?
As much as I dislike moving, the time may be coming. The only thing that handles water that is still working is the tub. Yesterday I did dishes in the tub.

RPBC RIP

There were forty Reese's Peanut Butter Cups the other day. Now there are only nine. I will have to go out today and purchase some sort of candy that I don't like, if there is such a thing. Gummy Bears or Oh Henrys might fill the bill. Mounds or Butterfingers would stand little chance of making it through the night.
The nights have been crispy and the days are warm and bright. The leaves are beginning to get some color. The glories of Fall are upon us.
Yesterday I made Barnyard Vegetable Soup. It came out pretty good. Leeks, carrots, potatoes, parsnips, parsley, garlic, tomatoes, cabbage, mushrooms, and beef broth are a good combination. They sufficed for the day with a large amount of grated Asiago as a topping. I did need to add some salt. As La Petite Anglaise used to say "Soup without salt is like kissing a man without a moustache.".

Coughing, Viruses, and Sneezing.

Yesterday I went to CVS to pick up a prescription. There I was , standing in the pick-up line with about twelve other people. I didn't ask myself why people are picking up a prescription. They are there because they are sick. Sure enough I awakened in the middle of the night with chest pain. At first I thought I might be having a heart attack. I lay there telling myself that heart attack is the way to go. All of the other ways are too drawn out and tedious. Then I realized that the mucas coming up was a sign of something in a lung. Oh joy, I have not been sick in about seven years. One trip to CVS, the first in seven years, and I picked up some denizen of a disease. Hot tea with a lot of lemon and honey is going to have to deal with this. I don't want to go to a doctor because why are the people in the waiting room there? I had a flu shot several days ago so that can't be the problem. So there will be several days of sitting cuddled up in a nice soft warm blanket, sipping hot tea with lemon and honey, and reading all of the books I have failed to finish. The one positive aspect of the trip was that I purchased a ton of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups for Halloween. Once again I will hope that no children come to the door so that I can eat all the cups myself the next day.

Itsy, bitsy, dampy

The itsy, bitsy spider is trapped at the bottom of the water spout. It has rained every day for several days. The rain is too late to help the corn and the pumpkins but maybe it is an indication that there will be a good snowy Winter.
Sitting sipping hot chocolate in front of a warm window and watching the huge flakes slowly drift to the ground is one of the many pleasures of Winter. Walking in new fallen snow and seeing the signs of all of the little creatures that are out and about is another.
I read that another man has been killed by a missle and drone attack. It seems to me to be an awfully sneaky thing. Perhaps the entire project should be labelled 'Operation I'll be Back'. Because the opposition does sneaky things is no reason for us to.
The color is starting to come in to some of the trees. It is late but it is still very welcome.

Frost Free

The frost has not come yet. There were a few nights when the temperature got down as low as thirty-five degrees but the last few nights have been fairly warm. The days are in the seventies and the nights are in the high forties. This is heaven! I went for a long walk yesterday. The Sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze, and all was right with the world. I stopped at the grocery store (Suprise, surprise) and picked up mushrooms, leeks, beef broth, two kinds of cheese, and beef. I am going to try Swedish Meatballs again. While I was dawdling in the meat aisle, I noticed that they had flat-iron steak and short ribs of beef. Those things are perfect for grinding up into hamburgers. I will try to walk back today and purchase both. Topped with American cheese and a thin slice of onion and resting on a nicely toasted bulky roll, heaven will be inside as well.
One thing that I was sad to notice was that the color in the leaves is not there this year. Even the sugar maples are just brown and pale yellow. They are still crunchy underfoot. So this Fall will not be the riot of color we are used to but more like a bowl of Corn Flakes.

Wastebook

I tried that Facebook for a while. I don't think that I will use it again. They should format their activity with crayons and colored paper. There is one particularly obnoxious person that I get on the News portion.
There may be a frost this week. It is time to pull in the tomatoes, peppers, basil, parsley, and sage.
Yesterday I went and got a flu shot. I had some questions about Medicare. It is apparent that no one, not even those that supposedly deal with it every day, understands Medicare. Evidently doctors understand it and it is the source of an unlimited supply of golden eggs for them.
When I was much younger, I used to caddy for a very successful stock broker. He used to drink quite heavily on the golf course. One day he said to me "The easiest people to cheat are doctors. Next to their wives, they are the greediest people I have ever met. If I say to you 'Give me a dollar today and tommorow I will give you one hundred dollars." you would laugh in my face. Not doctors, they will dive in and try to invest one thousand dollars.".

Proscription

It has been in the news that the government of the United States of America authorized the killing of an American citizen without a trial. This event had to be approved by the President of the United States. I have read all of the arguments which try to justify such an action. The man lied about his place of birth in order to get more money for college. If lying on a financial aid application warrants the death penalty, the Ivy league may experience a marked decline in alumni. The chuckles of Cornelius Sulla must be echoing through the halls of the White House.
The rape of America began on 9/11. It was on that date that we lost our innocence. I have no answer to the troubles that terrorism has brought on to this country. We lost much more than two buildings and their occupants. I lament the diminuation of the pride that I have in being an American. Where we are headed I don't know. I fear for my children and my grandchildren.
When the Devil comes to the door, we have only the Law to protect us. Are we to suffer the same fate as Thomas Moore? Alas poor Liberty, I knew her well. So Mr. Terrorist, you will never understand the root of the antipathy I feel towards you. It is not so much the death and destruction you have heaped upon the world, it is the defiling of the blindfolded Lady with the scales in her hand. Timothy McVey hides behind her robe. Sirhan Sirhan hides behind her robe. Charles Manson is staring up into her her robe. They had better all be listening for the sound of a drone.

At Last

Sweater weather is here at last. There are bodings of a very cold Winter. The squirrel's tails are very bushy and the other day I saw a wooly bear caterpillar with a very wide brown stripe. These may be very unscientific ways to predict the weather but they are as relevant as any long term forecast I have ever encountered.
The first frost cannot be too far away. I will have to pick what remains of the tomatoes whether they are ripe or not. I have bananas and a paper bag so ripening them should not be a problem.
For the first time in my life I think that I am experiencing loneliness. I hesitate to go to the Senior Center for some social interaction I will go there tomorrow for a flu shot but it makes me uncomfortable to go there. When you walk in you feel like a steer at an auction. All of the women sit checking you out. There are not many men there at all. The administrators urgently try to sign you up for the meal program. I have seen their menus. I think that Gerber does all of their cooking.
Yesterday I made sausages with tomato gravy. The gravy contained a great deal of garlic, fresh sliced mushrooms, hot cherry peppers, sliced red and green peppers, onions, basil, oregano, and crushed red pepper. This topped bucatini and was topped with a great deal of grated Asiago. Such a meal at the Senior Center would induce mass apoplexy. Their idea of spicy is chicken with ranch dressing. "A Pox on Your Tastless Porridge.".
I am not easy to get along with and I never have been. I'd better get used to the loneliness. It is better than eating mush and engaging in meaningless conversation designed to offend no one and interest no one. I do miss talking with my children. From the time that each of them were very young, I found their opinions and thoughts relevant and stimulating. They think before they speak and think while they are speaking. They get these characteristics from their Mother. All that they will ever get from me is my cook books when I am gone.

Tales from the Larder

Yesterday my Brother took me to the grocery store. Enough food was purchased to hopefully last a month. Knorr stocks are being heavily advertised on television but they were not in the store.
Today in Netscape's What's New they listed "Ten Bad Foods that are Good for You". The foods are corn, potatoes, one egg a day, skinless chicken thighs, coffee, peanut butter, spaghetti and meatballs, avocados, and burritos. I have never had an avocado or a burrito but all of the rest are constantly on the menu. I am told that red wine is also good for you and I do indulge in a glass of ruby port almost every day.
Not on the list were two of my favorites, Italian sausage and cheeses. I could easily cut back on the sausage but the cheeses never. Cheese is milk's bid for immortality. The French, the Lords of the Table, have fifty different kinds of cheese. Cheese must have something to do with the French Paradox. They finish each meal with fruit, then cheese, then a green salad, then a lot of wine. The French eat foie gras, pate with pork fat, oodles of cream, easily a loaf of white bread a day, and have the lowest rate of heart problems in the world. I am sure that they only do these things to infuriate the English, a pastime they never seem to tire of.

Not So Great Pumpkin Season

The weather here has been wonderful. The days start cool, get warmer as the day progresses, and cool off in the evening. The leaves are starting to change color and all is right with the world. There is however, a crisis of monumental proportions looming.
There is a projected shortage of pumpkins predicted. It seems that all of the rain in Vermont washed most of the pumpkins into Lake Champlain. Give us a break! When the price of pumpkins gets to four times what it was last year, a miracle supply of pumpkins will somehow appear. The farmers in Vermont have been biding their time for many years. They have followed closely the progress of the petroleum companies and decided to strike now. Next will come the Great Cheese shortage and this coming Spring there will be a Great Maple Syrup Shortage.
There will be a new festival in Brattleboro this Fall. The Lake Champlain area will host a Bobbing for Pumpkins Week soon. Vermonters never mention the Great Conversation Shortage.
Here in Massachusetts we will continue to enjoy the halcyon days of Fall and start riveting our pumpkins to the porch railings. We anticipate a rash of pumpkin-jacking.

Long Walk

Yesterday was so beautiful that I went for a long walk. The destinations were the same as always, CVS and the grocery store. I purchased multivitamins and things with which to make Swedish Meatballs.
I am reading the follow up books to "A Year in Provence". They are not as enjoyable as "Under the Tuscan Sun" was. There is too much sarcasm and negative portrayals of the local inhabitants. "Under the Tuscan Sun" was a joy to read and reveled in the pleasures of the land and the house. The Provence books seem to concentrate on the failings and idiosyncracies of the local inhabitants. The former book was a mystical tale of joy and admiration, the latter is the wisecracking of another Rusticophobe. We get enough of that here, we don't need to go internationally to find more.

September sixteenth is so cool!

I woke up about an hour ago. I had to close the windows and put on the red flannel pajamas. The weather is appropriate as today is the birthday of someone that is very cool. My family was astounded when she was born two days before our first anniversary. She was the first first born in our family that was not five months premature, weighing ten pounds.
Irish wedding proposal: "You're gonna have a what?".

S

I awakened around four A.M. this morning. As I lay in the dark, a curious thought and problem arose. I was trying to remember the name of the ancient Indo-European language and all that I could recall was the first letter S. I kept substituting vowels for the second letter and after about fifteen minutes it came to me, Sanskrit. It puzzles me how a term that I have known for so many years could remain buried. Then a line from antiquity came to me, something that I have not thought of in at least fifty years.
I first thought of the line when I saw my Father, a man whose vocabulary was immense, struggle to remember a term. It is a line from Virgil. "The years take all, one's wits included.".
What is going on in my "little grey cells"? How can a word that I have probably encountered a hundred times in the past year escape me and then one that I have not thought of in fifty years come back?
I have one explanation that I recently embraced. I think of my mind as a fine Sheraton secretary and my memories stored in the drawers, written on fine rag paper by a gold tipped fountain pen, but sometimes when I go to retrieve one of the memories, the drawer is locked!
Perhaps I should purchase a book of crossword puzzles to give my memory a workout. Reading doesn't seem to be helping. The television will remain off except for Thursday nights at eight P.M. and Sunday nights for Masterpiece theatre.

Christmas Stocking

I recently read that there is going to be a huge shortfall in the corn harvest in America. Less corn means less feed for cattle and people all over the world. Food shortages produce some violent reactions anywhere that they happen. Americans express a mild sympathy for famines in Africa but how are they going to feel when food shortage demonstrations and riots happen in New York and Los Angeles?
America is not the world's referee, despite the opinions of Washington D.C.. We are the world's bread basket. Next to gravel, we export more food than anything else. Recently some genius discovered how to convert food into automobile fuel. Now we will be able to ride in a limosine to the cemetary instead of being carried.
I think back to Maslow's list. Oxygen, water, food, and shelter are the things we need, in that order. The Earth tries hard to provide those things but someone has been messing with the process. It could be that Gaia has decided to erase the board and start over.
SUV's, stealth weapons, and spaceships are not on Maslow's list. It could be that wool may need to be added. I read that if global warming keeps going, it is going to get very cold in Western Europe.
I don't know what the timetable for the shortages is but, for myself, I think that it is time to start stocking up for Christmas. Canned goods and white rice and doomsday supplies are definitely on my wish list. What will Christmas dinner be like when I sit down to a nice roasted Spam? Dinty Moore will be invited for New Year's Eve. Crack open a bottle of Poland Springs 2011 and let the revels begin!
The Neandertals held out for quite a while in their rock condos in Gibraltar. Who will be the next tenants?
The human race has its priorities all messed up. Rock stars and sports heroes are idolized. Our children are ignored all over the world. Old McDonald shoud be the hero we all aspire to emulate. Feed the children, make sure that your wife has a safe and secure place to live, and stop messing about with all of the toys we have accumulated. Maybe, in some future Eden, the human race will finally decide to put an Amish woman in charge of everything. Is Gaia Amish?

Ten Years Ago

Ten years ago, the world held its breath. Ten years ago some radicals put the pot on the stove. The world has been boiling furiously ever since. So much death and so much destruction, so much sadness and so much suspicion, the world has gone crazy. Maybe someone at the United Nations should dial 911.

Sunny Day, Everything is A-OK

A glorious New England Fall day. The Sun was warm, the air was cool, the leaves are changing, and a Simpson Sky reigned overhead. I walked to the library, my home away from home, and watched the river raging over the dam. The water is a deep sepia from all the leaves it is accumulating. It roars over the dam and the smell of compost is in the air, refreshing the mind and the spirit.

Rain again

There seems to be more and more rain in our forecasts and actuality. The average rainfall for this region is forty inches a year. We have been getting two or three inches each day. There is serious flooding in many towns and states.
I think of the Southwest or the Sahel and realize that we are lucky. Fresh water is a blessing. Somewhere in the back of my mind is a quote about the blessings of water. It may have come from Lord Byron but I am not sure. The source will come to me hours from now. My long term memory is getting very loooong.
The spider in the water spout is wearing a life jacket. The tomatoes are starting to crack.

Rain

It has rained sporadically here for three days. I just saw some lightning and heard the thunder several seconds later. It is raining quite heavily now. The sky didn't begin to brighten until after six A.M.. The season has changed and a flannel nightshirt is now a necessity.
I just started reading "Under the Tuscan Sun". It is even better than "A Year in Provence" was. It brings on longings. It also reminded me of the introduction to the most fabulous Italian cookbook that I have ever encountered. The author wrote "If you want to experience real Italian cooking, first buy a small farm in Tuscany.". Such are the thoughts that dreams are made of.

Wisdom from the Past

My Father used to tell me "Nils, the only time that you should open your mouth is to change feet.". I recently forgot his sage advice. I hope that I have rectified that mistake.

Moving Day

It took the squirrels about two minutes to adapt to the new feeder location. I am going to have to find out if squirrels hibernate. Squirrel food is running about forty dollars a month and I am sure that will increase as the weather gets colder. If they hibernate, that would ease the burden on the budget. If they don't, I will bear with the increase. I seem to have an empathy for them. Alone, sleeping out in the cold, worrying where the next meal is coming from, I have been there but things are different now and I am thankful for it. I wish that I had more resources and could help the local food pantry. It seems evil that our government is advocating turning corn into fuel for automobiles when people are hungry in this country. This policy has only driven up the price of so many food items. Someone has gotten their priorities confused. The only way that I can see to stop the avalanche of fuel consumption and its inherent problems is to allow gasoline to go to fifty dollars a gallon and give farmers a large discount on it.
The Amish seem to be doing quite well in their lives. Food and clean water and clean air are necessary for life, SUVs are not. Our society may be heading for collapse. There are theories that the Roman Empire collapsed because of lead drinking water pipes and pewter drinking vessels.
If the environmental quagmire we live in continues, there may come a time when we look to the Amish for advice on prosperity instead of Warren Buffet. A full belly is more comforting than a full wallet. Someday we may be forced to chew on the wallet while the Amish are chewing on chicken and dumplings. Food or fuel oil, take your pick!
That is all from the Country Curmudgeon.

At last!

The days of Fall are finally here. Cool mornings and warm afternoons and even cooler nights have been anticipated for some time. All is well in this tiny little town.
I have not heard from some people that I long to hear from but they have their own lives and I remember those days of scurrying and bustle, trying to deal with the business of living. Things are slower and simpler for me now and I wish them the same blessing.
It is just getting light outside now. Sunrise is about an hour later than it was just a short time ago.
The landlord has complained about the squirrel feeders I set up on the porch. He is fearful that the squirrels might damage his new automobile. I moved the feeders to the ground several feet from the stairs. I put them under the stairs so the squirrels don't have to worry about hawks. Mister Peanut doesn't have to worry about his car now but he has another reason to worry about squirrels.
I recently purchased a hummingbird feeder and will try to set it up today. I am sure that he will object to that. The humming of the birds might interfere with his communication with the alien spaceships that are in orbit overhead. He is over ninety and still spritely and active. He will hang around until there is a vacancy in the Trinity. He is hard on his son, as he should be, and hard on his greatgrandson, as he should not be. He believes that the Democrats are trying to destroy America which leads to some interesting conversations between him and me.
I miss the rational thoughts of my children. They are three of the five people that I have respected in my life. Conversation with them consists of a free exchange of ideas and thoughts. There is not an outpouring of opinions that have no basis behind them or a litany of superstition
and prejudice. They think about what they are saying before they say it. This makes them pariahs among the rest of the human race.

Irene Update

The storm was not a big deal. The projected path was right through my bathroom but it failed to appear. There are a lot of leaves down but there was no loss of power and, as I live on the third floor, there was no flooding. It is light out now and a little later on, it is too cool now, I will go out and check the plants and yard.
The weather forecasters should be back soon. They all ran to tell the king that the sky was falling. This might present a problem if another such storm comes. People will pooh-pooh the dire warnings and not prepare as much. The consequences of such behavior could be sad.
As of now, no one will have to water their lawn for several days. When they do need to water, they will simply have to pump out their cellar.

Damp

It is a bit damp here. The approaching hurricane is being felt. Since yesterday afternoon there have been alternating periods of torrential downpours and no rain. There is much talk about how soaked the ground already is from the past few storms and how there may be quite a few trees down if the hurricane hits us. The electrical power may go out. If that occurs, there will be much cooking when the power comes back on as everything in the freezer will probably have to be cooked.
There will be no computer to steal four hours of the day. There will be no television. That means that there will be no Masterpiece Theater. If the disaster occurs during the daylight hours there will be only one horror to endure, there will be NO COFFEE!
The rain has just started again. It sounds as if it is quite heavy.

Predictions

The weather forecast for yesterday was ominous. Torrential rains and thunder storms and very high winds were predicted for this entire region and those were not part of the hurricane that is supposedly coming this way.
My Brother Paul called and we arranged to meet. He picked me up and we went to the grocery store and got two nice porterhouse steaks and some fresh corn on the cob and some fresh mushrooms and some butter and a loaf of French bread. We stopped along the way and purchased some of Holland's most well known elixir.
We went to his house and picked up most of the potential projectiles in his yard. We cooked inside because of the weather forecast. It didn't seem prudent to be out in the yard grilling during torrential rain or standing next to a huge metal gas grill during a lightening event.
The rain never appeared. We sat on the porch waiting for some salesmen to appear but none ever did.
I am hoping that the predictions on the hurricane will prove similarly incorrect. If the weather computers are correct, the hurricane will come right through my bathroom. I think that the high winds are inevitable but all will be well if the rains stay west of here and the tree roots don't get sodden so that the big trees topple. Earthquakes and hurricanes, these are not normal for Massachusetts. If a plague of frogs and flies come, as a first born I will start to worry a lot.
Today I am going to go out and purchase some more flashlight batteries. I always have water set aside and candles at the ready but I don't have any spare batteries. I live on the third floor of the highest spot in town so I don't think that I need to unpack my waders.

Chip or Dale?

Yesterday I went to the hardware store and got a new bag of feed for my little visitors. It is labeled Fruit and Nut. The bag brims with nuts and dried fruits, cherries and cranberries, and other assorted goodies.
My little visitors seemed thrilled with it. I sat on a makeshift stool that I have on the porch and watched as they explored the new menu. Just two squirrels showed up. They seem to hear the sound of the food being poured into the feeders and show up a few moments later. They were reticent at first but eventually accepted the fact that I was there.
Soon the chipmunk showed up. The squirrels chased it off at first but after the squirrels left, the chipmunk returned and appears to have no fear of me. I enjoyed watching the tiny creature stuff its cheek pouches with food, scoot away, and then return to fill them up again. It seemed suspiciously interested in the tomatoes and relished the fresh nasturtium seeds that I had put in the feeder.
The hummingbird appears each morning to sip at the nasturtiums. The sparrows that live in the quince bush clean up all of the tiny bits that the others leave.
It was a quiet day in Lake Uxbridge. Going to the hardware store may seem like a simple day but it was the highpoint of mine.
I have had ecstasy and depression and joy and fear and pride and self loathing in my life. This quiet time and place suits me now. There are several whoppingly big Brandywine tomatoes that will be fully ripened today. Tomato sandwiches are surely coming today!

Brandywine Heaven

The Tea Pot Crisis has been resolved. All that was necessary was to double the amount of woodpecker food that I put out each day. Evidently the creature was not using the tomato scavening to nourish itself. It was simply trying to send a message that it was still hungry. I like to think that it was sending a message "More food or the tomatoes are history.".
The Brandywines are ripening. I ate the first one yesterday. After ten months of supermarket (blah) tomatoes, it was heaven on the palate. I had forgotten what sunshine tastes like. Immediately the thought of the tomatoes my Father used to raise in the backyard. The Nona Rosas are ripening in a torrent. They are very small grape type tomatoes and are wonderful fresh and quite a treat sauteed.
I have a full row of basil to use for cooking (MMMM!) and flat leaf parsley. The garlic is almost ready to harvest and the hot peppers are six inches long. Tomatoes, garlic, basil, and parsley, how do you define paradise?
There is a hummingbird that comes each morning to the nasturtiums and a male cardinal, sparrows, and a chipmunk that clean up after the squirrels. Squirrels, it started out as two that visited regularly and it is now six. They do not share well at all. The biggest ones chatter and bully the smaller ones and do not leave the troughs until they are sated. They eat all of the fruits and nuts and leave only scraps of corn for the weakest. They are all wearing tiny campaign buttons with an elephant on them. Someday the eagle that soars overhead may rectify this situation.
Life is good. It is not throbbing with ecstasy but it is good. Becker's rubber band is stretching but has not snapped back.

Tea cup crisis

There is a new crisis brewing. Two nights in a row something has been munching green tomatoes. The teeth marks look like a squirrel's bite but I don't think that squirrels are active at night. This has got to stop! So far the creature has only been taking small green tomatoes but there are many large green ones, heirloom Amish types, that will probably be next.
To quote the good President Bush "This will not stand.". I think that the teeth marks are from a squirrel or a rabbit. Anything bigger is probably going to have its way. It doesn't eat the whole tomato, it just nibbles at the skin and outer pulp. This is the first crisis that I have had in a long time. It is not as bad as the Great Turkey Soup Crisis but it is still bothersome.

Pork O.K

.The pork came out O.K.. It was very tender and had a crispy outside and the sauce was spectacular. Adding the balsamic vinegar was a definite plus. The problem now is that I have an enormous amount of leftover roasted pork. I can see what is on the menu for the next few days.
Last night I lay awake for several hours wondering about the concept of the soul. My mind wandered from the Christian concept, to the Egyptian ba, to the beliefs of India, and to the American Indians. Finally it rested on Thor and the Asgard race. There was a movie years ago with Mick Jagger titled "????? Jack" that also addressed the issue. Is the soul a collection of electrical impulses or is it part of String Theory? Do the Upanishads have the answer? Do animals have souls? Is there any way for a feeble human brain to understand a concept so mysterious? In the end we will all find out. Or Not.

Nightshirt 1.1

It was another cool night. This time it was necessary to wear the nightshirt to bed.
There have been questions about the fourth jewel. The fourth jewel shall forever remain a mystery. She is like Sherlock's Adele, smart, pretty, sensuous, and oh so vexing!
Today I will try a new method for roasting pork. The Boston Butt has been marinating in Kosher salt and light brown sugar for two days. The only problem will be that it has to roast for six hours at 325 degrees. Then will come the sauce. Peaches, salt, sugar, white wine, rice vinegar, thyme, and whole grain mustard are macerated together and half of the sauce is applied to the roast during the last half hour of roasting, the rest of the sauce is served at the table, reduced with the jus from the roast. The recipe calls for an internal temperature of 190 degrees. That temperature should reduce all of the collagen and eliminate any fears of trichinosis. Served with glazed carrots and pan roasted broccoli, it should be worth the wait.
I have a superb bottle of balsamic vinegar that just might be substituted for the rice vinegar. The balsamic vinegar will definitely go onto the Brussels sprouts. It is the only way to make them edible.

Massachuetts is so Cool!

The weather finally broke here. When I got up this morning, I had to put on a nightshirt. It is not just cool, it is a little cold.
I am sure that there are hot days ahead of us. September can be hot. I can remember going to high school in September, proudly wearing a newly purchased sweater and sweating like a Cub Scout at Neverland. Soon will come the halcyon days of Fall.

Politics again. Once more into the breach.

The political situation is heating up already. It used to be that we were only subjected to this fiasco once every four years but now the season has been extended. It reminds me of some of the professional sports seasons. The reason for the extensions is the same, more time to gather more money.
It also reminds me of a Mencken quote. "He is in favor of common sense, common honesty, and common decency. This makes him forever ineligible for public office.".

Even the Heavens Celebrate

Yesterday was August twelfth, a most auspicious day. It is the birthday of one dear to my heart. Even the heavens celebrate this day. The sky is filled with shooting stars, the Sun shines brightly, the clouds are a glorious Simpson display. The Universe rejoices that the Big E was born this day.

Self Respect

Self respect is the secure feeling that no one,as yet, is suspicious. Mencken.

It's Coming!

It is five o'clock in the morning and the temperature in my home is still eighty degrees. It is cooler on the porch but this is mosquito time and I don't spend much time out there during mosquito time hours. There are a few nasty viruses aroud here this time of year.
It is quarter after five and the sky is lightening. A few weeks ago it began to lighten about four-thirty. Lo and Behold, that means that Fall is on the way! The tomatoes on the porch are huge but still very green. The peppers are on their way. Fall, when New England turns into a paradise. The days of sweaters and flannel sheets and wool socks and jackets and beef stew with dumplings and hot cocoa and spiced cider with cinnamon doughnuts. Fall, with ice-blue skies and cool breezes and Fall's palette of leaves. Fall, when the heat is gone and the heat is not on.
Soon will come the day when we gorge on our pre-hibernation feast. Then comes the glory of Winter, with its ice-cold winds, its layers of soft fluffy snow, its icicles dangling from the roof, its chickadees and juncoes dabbing at seeds atop the meringue of Winter. There will be hours spent on the porch without worrying about some virus gifted to us by the Old World.
I look forward to Winter as some people look forward to Spring. That is because I am a Swamp Yankee. Swamp Yankees look forward to Winter because they get ready for it. Food is stockpiled, firewood is stacked, down jackets are taken out of closets, candles are laid out so that they are readily available, and cans of Dinty Moore are almost bursting the cabinets.
There will be walks where the crunch of snow and the brisk breaths of clean air clear the mind and the lungs. It is coming. As the Sun rises later and later each day, it foretells the days when we rise later and later each day because we want to stay snuggled under the wool blankets. Does Summer ever have the word snuggle associated with it ? Winter has "Mama in her nightshirt and I in my cap". The treasures of that day do not come from unwrapping the boxes under the tree, they come from unwrapping the nightshirt.

You Are Pre-approved!

The government debt crisis seems to be worsening. The solution that Congress seems to have selected is to get another credit card. I wonder if they have ever considered stopping borrowing. I assume that such a plan would involve quite a bit of belt tightening for some time.
The United States of America is a great, safe place to live. Americans are like tenants in a huge 300 million family home. We pay a certain amount of rent each year, called taxes, and we are able to use all of the facilities of the home. Corporations and oil companies are aware of the benefits of living here.
Now the landlord is in fiscal trouble but the dolt won't even consider raising the rent. Some very well off tenants live here practically rent free. It is much like having a relative that pays no rent. Some of the well off tenants have summer places in other countries. It is like having a child that has an apartment across town and therefore pays no rent at home but shows up at suppertime every day with a bag full full of dirty laundry. It might be time to tell certain corporations "You either live here and pay rent or hit the road permanently.".
Congress doesn't have to fret. I am sure that there is a letter in the mail, postmarked Beijing, that states "You have been pre-selected for our new Brass Credit Card.". Fees and credit terms will be printed in very small letters on the edge of the paper.
Belt tightening has one very large opponent. It is the Beltway! Maybe Congress should buy some Powerball tickets. That would be acceptable to both parties and if they win, they could go on with their life of limos and free lunches and cruises and sailboats and the really big shrimp and cigars and brandy.
I recommend that a motto be inscribed on the Capital building. "L'Etat c'est nous.".
As for the recent budget talks, I am reminded of something Samuel Clemens once said. "Facts are stubborn things but statistics are more pliable.".

The Budget

All of this crisis over the Federal Budget and how to balance it reminds me of two ideas.
Maslow stated that all we need to live are air, water, food, and shelter. Clemens stated that "Civilization is the limitless multiplication of unnecesary necessities.".
As far as I know, the gvernment still has a Tea Tasting Board to maintain the the quality of the taste of this heavenly beverage but has allowed the air and the water and the food and the shelter of the average American to go to hell! Is the board that was appointed in the seventies to oversee the fines on oil price gouging still meeting regularly and still holding all of the money?
When the average American reaches a budgetary crisis, we check our pants and under the couch cushions for spare change and have a garage sale. Has the government checked under the couch cushions lately or checked the garage for exercise equipment still in the boxes?

Puritans

Puritanism: the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy. Mencken.

Immorality

Immorality: the morality of those who are having a better time. Mencken.

Conscience

Conscience is the inner voice that warns us that somebody may be looking. H.L. Mencken.

Cynic

A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin. H.L. Mencken.

Refreshing

The weather here has cooled off quite a bit. It is actually pleasant , both outside and inside.
I watched the President on television. I noticed that he has a habit of putting his hands in his pockets at times, while he is speaking. It is so refreshing to see a politician with his hands in his own pockets.
I also watched his nemesis speak. That man could easily get elected to the governorship of Massachusetts. The Kelly green tie would make him a shoe-in. He would enjoy Amrhein's. As he is a Republican, he cannot put is hands in his pockets. His pockets are stuffed so full of cash that there is no room for his hands. He has to put his hands in other people's pockets.

Waiting for Winter

It is hot here. It is 4:30 in the morning and the air has not cooled off yet. It is 85 degrees in the living room. The air out on the porch is a little cooler but not much.
This is New England, not southern Texas. Southern Texas is the only place that I can remember being this hot and humid. At least Texas had cheese, beef, and onion enchiladas and lots of shrimp.
I am looking forward to the Winter. I find the cold weather easier to deal with than the heat. Put on your long johns, put on a sweater, get out the down filled parka, and everything is fine. Winter is the time of beef stew and apple pie and roasted meats and mashed potatoes and biscuits and lots of gravy.
This heat is the time of iced water and cold chicken. Blaaaah! I recently read an article that stated that the maple trees are slowly moving North towards Canada. Trees supposedly don't have a brain. They may not have a brain but they appear to have common sense. I hope that they are able to find the Entwives.
We still have August to endure. Then will come the blessed days of Fall and then the glory of Winter.
I am told that this weather is the result of El Nina. I would wager that she likes Southern Texas. I think that right now she is chomping on cheese, beef, and onion enchiladas and tossing down an ice-cold Lone Star.
Who would have thought that Al Gore would be the twentieth century's only Prophet?

New Game

Yesterday was another game. I am 1 for 3 in that game.

Latest Statistics

As of yesterday I am 2 for 4.

0 for 4

I never miss one but my own is 0 for 4 this year.

The Day Before

Worldwide celebration of Cinquo de Mayo has overshadowed its preceding day. Not many people know that that day is traditionally the birthday of the world's most famous little green man. It is a day of hope and purity and strength of purpose. As he would say "May the Fourth be with You".

There are Times and There are Places.....

There are times and there are places in my mind that I won't go. This morning I had occasion to visit one of them. It was a tumultuous and extended time. I had put the dark portion out of my mind for a long time.
I am auditing how my life has changed. There was extreme bliss but there also seemed to be a crisis every day. None of the crisises were overwhelming. Most of them were the teapot types of tempests.
It was not easy to become accustomed to this new way of life. It is now. "I eat when I'm hungry, I drink when I'm dry, and if moonshine don't kill me, I'll live till I die.".
There is no one peeking over my shoulder, lamenting that I have not achieved what others have. I have sufficient resources to live a simple life. I feed two squirrels each day. I cook whatever I feel like cooking. If I want tomatoes and elbow macaroni, I have it. If I want chocolate cake, I have it. If I want steak, I have it. If I want to relish a nice bottle of Port, I indulge.
It all seems to boil down to one realization. There is no way to get out of this life alive. There are only two experiences common to all human beings. You are born and you die. Whatever happens during the interval is up to you. Bhudda said "You are your own master.".
I have one forlorn hope that I am sure will never come true. If it does there will be an abundance of bliss.
I have one rule that I try to always follow. I try to keep my nose out of other people's business. I also try to keep their noses out of mine. I don't have much business of my own but what I do have is closely guarded.
There are a lot of loose women in this town. I don't mean morally loose but they are unattached due to divorce or death. It seems to bother quite a few of them that I am wandering around loose. Some of them have taken an inordinate interest in my business. I have only one response to their inquiries. "Let me tell you about my business. My business is My Business!".
This very pleasant life is winding down. Soon will come the long grey night. The interval has been worth living. It was filled with rapture and sorrow, triumph and disappointment. It has not always been pleasant but it has always been interesting.
I leave behind one legacy. I was part of producing the three most wonderful people that I have ever met, my three daughters. I will close now as I could go on and on for pages about the wonder of my children. Each of them is their own person. They each have found their own path. They are funny, they are bright, they can be pensive and they can be silly. The thing that I am most proud of is that they are never mean. Each of them possesses an ascerbic wit but they keep it in check and do no harm with their tongues.
Besides them, I will leave behind the KitchenAid mixer and the red coat. It is enough.

What's that lurking in the bushes?

There ia a dirty little secret somewhere, just biding its time to come out. There are too many unanswered questions and too few facts. All of the world wonders.

Sow it Goes

A man is dead. The entire country seems to be reverberating with the sound of rejoicing. The repercussions of his death are yet to be known.
I was pleased that our President did not hoop and holler with joy over the man's death. He just quietly announced it.
I will sit and ponder this event. I cannot rejoice over the death of a human being, no matter what the justification is. Life is too precious. When I pass, I know that there will be minor rejoicing in several small quarters. I will not go gently but I know that some day I will go. Say of me then that "He walked softly and tried to do no harm. He was not a titan or a demon, he was just a man.".

Our Tax Dollars at Work

The United States Congress announced today that it has repealed the Law of Gravity. Citing the dismal conditions that are plaguing the world today, the Congress feels that Americans need something to enlighten their spirits. Congress has addressed this issue before but has always felt powerless to effect laws of physics. With their recent successfull legislation that extended the day, they felt that now was the time to address this grave issue. The Law of Gravity will be replaced by the new Law of Silly. The new law will erase all of the foreboding that presently plagues Americans. The new law is dedicated to all of our hardworking legislators. "Don't Worry, be Happy. Congress is at work.".

Newton

I was raised in Newton, Massachusetts. I was watching the news yesterday and they had a clip from Newton. A flood of memories and thoughts came rushing back.
Newton has a unique character. There is a stone tower in Newton that was reportedly built by the vikings. The city is almost entirely enclosed by the Charles River. It is known as the Garden City because of all of the flowers and trees. Newton has a very ethnically diverse population.
There is a section of Newton, called the Lake, that is strongly Italian in nature. The crosswalks and the fire hydrants are all painted red and white and green in that section. It is the home of DePasquale sausages. DePasquale is a store front that has been making sausages for about a hundred years. You can also get a pepperoni and hot dog sub in the Lake.
Newton's claim to fame is that a certain cookie is named after Newton. Originally the cookie was made with strawberries and was known as Cambridge Strawberries. This didn't work out very well so the formila and location was changed and the cookie became known as Fig Newtons. The Stanley Steamer factory is still standing in Newton.
Newton has a large population of Jewish people. That explains Newton's excellent schools and libraries and police department and parks. Jewish people are willing to tax themselves for things that are important but not for silly things.
I left Newton when I was about nineteen. I worked all over the country but kept coming back to Newton. I don't know if it was Newton that I missed or Massachusetts.
For a while, after our first child was born, we lived in Amesbury. We moved there because the rent was much cheaper than where we lived. I worked in Boston at the time and often worked twelve hours a day. The commute was about forty-five miles each way and there was no public transpotation that accomodated my schedule.
We moved back to Newton because the commute was too much. In Newton I could catch the Mass Pike bus and be at work in fifteen minutes. We lived in an apartment where the neighbor downstairs made wine in the cellar and shoes on the back porch.
We moved to Plymouth because I thought that that was the only place that we could afford a house. In the beginning in Plymouth, the commute was forty-five minutes each way but it was on public transportation and therefore included one and a half hours of naps each day. The transportation was on a bus that followed route three and the dreaded Southeast expessway. It is hardly an expressway. It should be called the Escargot Expressway.
Over the years, as the traffic grew, the commute became one and a half hours each way. The strain was extremely debilitating. I never seemed to see my home and family in the daylight. The taxes began to rise in an almost exponential fashion as the town grew. The town installed teak benches at the new library but did not provide funds for more books. They did install air conditioned offices in it for the town officials to have their meetings. Silly seemed to be on the town agenda almost constantly as the nuclear reactor paid almost half of the town's taxes. That largess was soon exhausted.
My thoughts return to Newton again. Newton with its association with Horace Mann and John Eliot and the Stanley twins. Newton with its fifteen playgrounds and no Walmart. Newton, a crucial stop on the pre Civil War undergroud railroad. It seems so cruel that we can never go home again. Newton where the bones of my ancestors are buried. Newton, where there is a burial plot reserved for me and one for my brother, We will rest beside my Mother and My Father, about one hundred yards from my Grandmother and Grandfather, Hulda and Olav.
Newton, I do give a fig about you! I remember the short commute and how it enabled me to see the light.

Sharing

Evidently squirrels don't believe in sharing. The word is out about the sunflower seeds on the porch. There was a squirrel melee on the porch yesterday. I should have known that there would be trouble when I noticed that my porch is now listed on Squeakileaks.com. They tear into one another until only the biggest and fattest one remains. All of the others run away. (Running away is the oldest known form of self defense).
There was a large flock of robins in the cedar tree yesterday. I think that they consumed almost all of the berries, unlike the cedar waxwings that consume a few and leave the rest for another day.
Yesterday I tried to make codfish cakes in the Portuguese manner. It was a dismal failure. I still have some salt codfish left and I will try the Cape Cod manner using potatoes instead of day old bread. The Portuguese cakes just didn't hold together and I ended up with codfish hash. I was hoping to duplicate the codfish cakes of Antonios in New Bedford, a dish worth driving to. It was a shame because salt codfish is more expensive than prime rib and doesn't taste anywhere near as good. I will not purchase it again. My Mother used to make creamed salt codfish over new potatoes with fresh peas. It must have been the fond memory of that dish that caused me to purchase the cod. Hmmm, maybe the solution for what to do with the leftover codfish is there, Fannie Farmer has a recipe for it.
The codfish no longer comes in a nifty wooden box with a sliding top. It is now packaged in some sort of plastic composite, still with a sliding top. The old box was great for holding all of the small treasures that a boy picks up during a day, big rubber bands and robin's egg shells and shiny things and marbles and small pretty rocks and different tonic bottle tops (the kind with the cork liner inside that can be taken out and used to pin them to your shirt).

Someone

Someone is eating the sunflower seeds. Yesterday I noticed that the ones from the day before were all gone so I put out another handful. This morning I saw that some snow had fallen during the night and I could not see if yesterday's were gone. I will have to find a more secluded spot to put the seeds in. The flower pot is high on the railing of the porch and the squirrel is very exposed if it is eating them. There are often hawks circling overhead and I would hate to be the reason for my little friend's demise. Most bird feeders eventually become cat feeders but I will be remiss if I allow the squirrel feeder to become a bird feeder.
I made a small discovery yesterday. I was making noodles and stir-fry. I used linguini instead of noodles. The linguini is at least as good as the noodles, less expensive, and much more readily available as I have a rather extensive supply of pasta.
I don't want to use up all of the linguini however. I have a delectible bowl of pesto waiting for some linguini. The pesto was given to me by someone that knows me well, someone that I love dearly and respect quite as much. It will be such a treat to have pesto in the Winter time. The basil plant that I have in the window can't possibly produce enough leaves for a good pesto.
I have tiny little bugs on the lemon tree and the sage doesn't look too healthy. The thyme is flourishing and the garlic that I planted two weeks ago is at least a foot high. The garlic is the first garlic that I have ever succeeded with. I was at the grocery store and their regular garlic was looking very tired so I purchased a tray of organic garlic. Surprisingly it was less expensive than an equal amount of the regular garlic. It is very healthy, the cloves that I planted sprouted immediately, and the taste in a dish is less assertive but much appreciated. The bulbs that remain in the tray have not sprouted yet as the regular garlic would have. Hmmm, some nice roasted garlic might go nice with some linguini and pesto. Someone else might say that that would be too much garlic but I don't think that there is such a thing.
Would a squirrel eat garlic cloves? They do dine on tulip bulbs and those can't be that tasty.

Munchkin

Yesterday a squirrel came to the flower pot and munched down a good handful of sunflower seeds. I replaced them and hope that it comes again today. There were other squirrels romping about in the yard but my little visitor evidently didn't share its discovery with them. The squirrel was hardly emaciated. In fact it was a little porky. It is a true American gray squirrel. There were tinges of brown on its belly. They may be from the squirrel being hunkered down on a nice blanket of browned oak leaves. I will try to keep putting out the seeds. They were originally for the bluebird but I will put out enough for both creatures.
It is pleasing to be able to share one's bounty with fellow inhabitants of this world. I wish that I had the resources to be able to share my larder with my fellow human beings. It is not right that there should be a hungry or a thirsty human being anywhere when I have so much. My thoughts go back to the vacant stare of the child huddled beneath the robes of Christmas to come.
Many years ago, Malthus issued a warning to the world. There are huge fields of poppies growing in Afghanistan. They will be processed into narcotics to feed the growing addictions of the wealthier portions of the world. If there was less wealth in those portions, there might be wheat and barley growing in those valley fields in Afghanistan instead of shell craters and graves and poppies. This is an old thought that harkens back fifty years to a younger and more hopeful time and boy. It was a time of riots and tear gas and innocence and belief that things could be different. There was a river of hope flowing through the youth of America. It was not the Nile river as it now is. Soon those young Egyptians will have cars and homes and IRAs and microwave ovens and big screen TVs and SUVs and immigrants to exploit and look back on the time when they stood up for something instead of sitting on their fat wallets.
President Obama, leave them alone. Maybe, just maybe, they will accomplish some change instead of betraying themselves and their principles. Change, you remember change don't you?

Storm?

I woke up at 1:30 A.M.. I looked outside, expecting to see polar bears roaming in the driveway. Nothing seems to have happened. There is no further accumulation of snow and no deluge of ice. Somehow this little town has dodged the blizzard of the century. Could this have anything to do with Puxatawny Phil? Despite all of the Accuweather radar and computer forecasting, could a small furry mammal be in charge of the weather? It is a reassuring thought and makes more sense than all of the charts and diagrams. Someone had better make sure that that little woodchuck has some nice carrots to munch. If he is unhappy, we could be in for some trouble.

Since we've no place to go ....

Yesterday's storm was no big deal. It snowed but it was a very pleasant snow. I went for a walk and was surprised at the havoc it was causing. The trouble seemed to be with four wheel drive vehicles. Some of the people that have them don't seem to realize that they too have to slow down in a snowstorm. Four wheel drive doesn't mean four wheel stop.
As I was walking, several people pulled over and asked if I needed a ride. This is that kind of town. They looked a bit puzzled when I said no, that I was just out for a walk. The walk was a bit tricky as there is a layer of ice under the snow. I just slowed down as two foot drive does not mean two foot stop.
The weather forecast is for a doozey of a storm today. I have plenty of supplies and have no need to go out today. As long as the power holds out I will be as snug as the proverbial bug. If the power doesn't hold out, I have lots of sweaters and candles and flashlight batteries. The forecast is for snow and ice. Snow is not a problem for New England but ice can be. I remember the Blizzard of 78. I made it into work and had to stay there several days. The highways were clear but the company that I worked for wouldn't let anyone go home. We got paid triple time for all of the hours that we were there. The check was two feet long. We used the money to purchase a four wheel drive vehicle. We later learned that if the car in front of you is stuck it doesn't matter how many wheel drives you have, you are going nowhere.
The only thing that I am missing is a fireplace. A fire is so delightful and if you've no place to go,..........

Magic

Sunday I was visited by three very wise people. Not only was it a joy to see their smiling healthy faces but they came bearing gifts. I don't know how they picked out the gifts but it is as if they have a catalogue of things that I like.
There was a french Army mug, which I am still chuckling over, pesto, tortellinis, pesto, chocolate, and miracle of miracles, real balsamic vinegar! It wasn't the supermarket vinegar but it was the kind that you need a co-signer to purchase, investment grade balsamic vinegar. The kind that is dark and smooth and sweet. Oh the dishes that will be complimented by this magic elixir.
It was such a joy to see them again. My darling daughter with her wit and candor and compassion and beauty and intelligence and above all common sense. She still has regard for a gap toothed, gray bearded, stinky old man just because he is her father. My son-in-law, with his quiet reserve, his piercing intelligence, and his interest in everything around him. My grandson, with his joy of living, his tested honesty, his politeness, and his adoption of his parent's way of life, and their gentleness. It was a perfect day.
There is a storm coming. A big whopper of a storm. I have enough supplies to last me at least a week. I have to go out today for just a few minutes and then I will hunker down and await the glory of a Winter blizzard. As long as the power holds out, I will cook and clean and read and enjoy the storm. All of the things that make life enjoyable will be here, along with some great vinegar.
I saw the Bluebird again yesterday. I hope that it fares well in the coming tempest. I will put out more seeds after the storm has passed.

Domani

There are times when I am happy with myself. There are times when I am not. Lately there are a lot more nots then ares.
I am used to failure. I have failed at many things over my life. My Brother has called me Gunner. "I'm gunner do this and I'm gunner do that.".
My latest failure is despicable to me. I constantly tell myself that I am going to do a certain very important thing and then, day after day, just keep putting it off. I have had two weeks to prepare for a certain very important thing and have just kept putting off and putting off the preparations. I will have to scurry around and scurry around today to prepare.
I was going to do the preparation yesterday but my Brother called and took me to the grocery store. It was difficult for him to get here as there is no place to park on the street. The snow is piled three feet high on either side of the road and the driveway is still deep in snow. Luckily he has four wheel drive and was able to reach the base of the driveway. I could not pass up a chance to overstuff the larder.
So I missed the chance to do the preparation yesterday. I am preparing for a visit by my dear, dear, daughter and her lovely family. I am concerned about the snow and the possibility that they will not have anywhere to put their car but I so much want to see her.
Failure has become the deciding influence in my life. I used to accept it as part of my make-up but in this incident I find myself despicable. Three people want to come and see me. My first-born, dear to my heart and mind, her so very admirable husband, and their brilliant and charming son.
So I am going to try to change. I am tired of living so far away from people and those that I love. I am going to try to change the way that I constantly put things off. I'm gunner do this. It is surprising that any human being would want to see me but I have read that they recently watched a movie called "Despicable Me" and that might have inspired them to think of Me.

More and More

It has been snowing all night. I am not sure how much of an accumulation there was overnight but the dilemma is, what to do with the snow and all of the other snow that is under it. There has been a snow storm almost every day for the last few days. None of the previous snowfall seems to have melted before a new one piles on more. I do very much like snow but the present situation is going to become troublesome when all of the snow starts to melt. I live high on a hill so there is no problem with flooding for me but the town's sewage treatment plant is upstream from the town's fresh water supply. Someone forgot about the six P's from Basic Training (Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance). So once more I will have to lay in gallons of fresh water as when the sewage treatment plant overflows the town shuts off all of the fresh water supply. The gallons are necessary because I have experienced this situation before. There is no need for drinking water as I always have a supply of juice and such for this situation. The gallons are necessary to flush the toilet. Three days with an unflushed toilet leave a lasting impression on a person.
It is still snowing outside and I must do something for the birds and the squirrel. I will walk a bit today, not a lot but a little. Walking in the snow is one of the pleasures of living in New England. One never has to worry about falling, for if one does fall, one lands with a whoosh not a thump.

Tucked Inn

I have often thought that TUCKED INN would be a great name for a bed and breakfast. A place for a more mature crowd to sit and sip by a fireplace, staring out the window at the accumulating snow, and eating cheesey, creamy, porky, potatoey dishes until it is time to go and take a nap. That would be a place that I would be attracted to. A place with no ski racks, no mountain bikes, and no workout equipment.
Moseying along on a old tired horse with a back as wide as a dining room table might be permitted. Sharing in the efforts of the kitchen would be permitted. Delicious dishes would be discovered from the treats that show up at a church or Grange supper. Amish dishes might appear as I hear that they now travel quite a bit. A very long hat rack would have to be installed to accomodate all of the flat black hats. A huge garden would permit picking one's own salad (Yes, salad would have to be permitted judging by today's tastes and there would be one Frenchman to make the dressing).
Yesterday I tucked in. I spent the day making spaghetti and meatballs. I ground the pork and the beef and mixed them with garlic and parsley and egg and cheese and bread crumbs for the meatballs. I didn't have any bread so I used packaged bread crumbs but the meatballs came out allright anyway. The meatballs browned up nicely in olive oil and I moved on to the sauce.
Two big cans of tomatoes and onions and garlic and pepperocini and salt and pepper and sugar and fresh thyme and fresh basil and a bay leaf and some red wine simmered away for hours and then the meatballs were added and the simmering recommenced.
When the sauce was properly reduced, I boiled up some bucatini, topped it with sauce and meatballs, and covered that with a nice layer of grated Asiago.
A better name for the bed and breakfast might be Nonna's Tucked Inn. That would attract the crowd that I am interested in and make for a whirlwind in the kitchen. No men would be allowed in the kitchen, just a mob of old Italian grandmothers creating their masterpieces of simplicity and quality.
Marie D'Medici brought fine cooking to France. The French can take a three day old dead horse and whip up a sauce that makes it ambrosial. The Italians use only the freshest and best of ingredients. I once read that if you want to experience genuinely divine cooking, first buy a small farm in Tuscany.
The Inn at the farm in Tuscany would offer special reduced rates to Amish grandmothers and supply the chicken and cream. They would have bring their own dumplings.
The Amish have a unique piece of advice to offer young men who plan to marry, on choosing a spouse. "Kissing don't last, cooking do!".
For a young lady to follow this advice, she would have to marry a Basque man. For women are not allowed in a Basque kitchen. Men do all of the cooking and, seeing that the dirty dishes are all in the kitchen, this might be a piece of advice to follow.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Yesterday was cold. It was not just the normal January cold. The snow squeaked when I walked on it. I cut my walk much shorter than I usually walk. The thermometer at the little store read minus eight. The tips of my fingers were starting to tingle even though I had gloves on. I decided that it was time to go home.
I have often stated how much I like the cold. Yesterday was too cold. I must be more careful of what I ask for.
I came home and made what is probably my favorite dish. I made canned tomatoes over elbow macaroni with shredded Asiago cheese on it. I have cooked a great many different dishes but that dish has always been my favorite. It is something that I often ate in my Mother's kitchen, basking in the warmth of her kitchen and presence.
I wonder if anyone has ever thought of publishing a cookbook that contains the recipes of the Mothers of famous chefs? I would like to have the recipe for Gordon Ramsey's Mother's macaroni and cheese. My tastes run more towards Two Fat Ladies than they do to Adele Davis.
Today might be a good day to try stew again. To sit and eat stew with corn bread while looking at Jack Frost's etchings on the window pane is a good way to spend such a New England day. I must do something for the birds and the squirrel. Their little toes must also be tingley.

Dreamelations

Revelations don't come often to a long haired, grey bearded, old curmudgeon, like me. One came last night while I was sleeping. I won't mention what it was because I am sure that it would include a buzzword that would elicit comments from half of the yahoos in the world and I would be inundated with passionate interpretations and thoughtless opinions.
The revelation concerned a subject that has long been on my mind and settled the misgivings I have had, very gently and sensibly. So now I am probably the only human being that has the answer and I am not sharing it with anyone. My thought processes have always existed in the hinterlands of human thinking and now I am firmly way out there.
It is a mystery why so many questions that I have had were resolved during dream time. Toast and butter side down are still up in the air.

Snowy

Yesterday was another snow day. It snowed profusely throughout most of the morning. Once the snow had ceased, I went out to shovel off the porch and steps. I also helped the landlord shovel out the driveway and stairs and path to the oil filler pipes. The landlord is ninety-two and can use the help. The temperature had turned surprisingly mild by then. Then I went for a walk. I love walking in the snow.
When I returned, I indulged in my favorite bored pastime. I made spaghetti sauce while reading a cookbook on Louisiana cooking and sipped a delightful Cabernet Sauvignon.
While I was sitting at the kitchen table, I noticed that the Bluebird was back on the porch. Evidently the bird is fond of the snow in the flower pots. I checked closely and the bird really is a Bluebird not a holdover Robin. I put some sunflower kernals into the flower pot. The bird flew off when I opened the door and I will have to check this morning to see if any of the seeds are gone.
Life is moving along simply and slowly. This is very appropriate for a man who is also simple and slow.
If I can get my hands on some fresh coriander and parsley, I think that I will attempt codfish cakes. I already have the salted codfish and lard. Portuguese codfish cakes, I really do miss New Bedford. Maybe some kale for a nice soup, I have a ham bone and can get Linguica or Chourice.

The Best Laid Plans

So much for the plan of nesting. Yesterday I went for a walk anyway. It was very treacherous going. The sidewalks were very slippery so I mainly walked in the street. The weather was pleasant but I curtailed the distance. I ended up at the library (surprise, surprise) and spent some time there. I bet that every book in that library has my fingerprints on it. Next to the grocery store, it is my favorite place.
Today I plan to go to the hardware store, there is something that I should get and two things that I want to check the price on. It is good to get out and walk around. I may even stop into the hot dog store. I have not had a hot dog in years and they are a treasured memory.
I will soon need some more soba noodles. They are almost an addiction. By the time that I finally finish preparing the dish, there is an interesting collage of colors and textures in the bowl. I have some shrimp in the freezer and would like to try them with the noodles. I might also defrost the rhinocerous and the moose. They are taking up too much space. The horn and antlers might make for an interesting stock.
I just noticed that the Moon is shining over the cedar tree outside and shining directly on me. Lunacy might explain my thought train.

Slip sliding away

The weather here has been a bit looney. Yesterday morning huge snowflakes were falling from the sky at a very impressive rate. By the time I got out to shovel, the snow had turned to rain. Imagine the scene, a layer of ice and tightly packed snow on the driveway, topped with a layer of slush, and rain on top of that. I cancelled my walk and went back into the house. There was too much of a possibility of disaster. I am not as agile as I used to be and the thought of slipping and trying to catch myself is a certain recipe for back problems. I don't mind falling. Just thump and you are on the ground but lurching around trying to prevent a fall is the danger.
So I tucked myself in, put on good warm socks, and proceeded to cook. I think that today will be the same as it is still pretty WD-40 outside.

Spicy Soup

The spicy soup is working its magic. Yesterday's batch had even more cherry peppers in it and some pepperoncinis also.
I went for a short walk. The sidewalks are not plowed so I walked in the street. As I was returning home, I met another elderly man coming the other way. We both smiled and I mentioned that it was unusual for the sidewalks not to be plowed. He said "It's better to cut back on the snow removal budget than to cut back on the school budget.".
That was typical of this small, sensible town. Here was a man undoubtably too old to have children in school stating the obvious. He doesn't mind being inconvenienced by walking in the street. He would mind if the children of the community weren't receiving a proper education. He has his priorities in order.
I also noticed that, despite the snow laden sidewalks, all of the fire hydrants had been shoveled out by the residents of the streets. This is a small town. There was a Wal-Mart but they moved out as the residents prefered to shop in the small stores of their neighbors. There is no video store but there is an excellent library which is funded by a trust fund established many years ago by a local resident. There are two very large senior citizen complexes. There is a senior citizens center that insures that senior citizens have transportation to medical appointments and grocery shopping. There is a hardware store and a store that sells only hot dogs. There is a music store that gives violin lessons but there is no computer store. These stores are all located in an area that is not even one hundred yards long.
This town and the people in it definitely have their ducks in a row. The town hall and the police station and the fire headquarters are all in the same building which is right in the center of town. There are a lot of churches, even an Evangelical church whose message board is in Spanish. All of the churches seem to have bell towers and when noon time strikes, the sound of bells sweeps across the valley. This town seems to be a microcosm of what America used to be, self-sufficient and sensible.

Soba

I finally got my hands on some soba noodles. I got both kinds, the plain and the buckwheat. I have always been very very fond of them. Yesterday was soba noodles with crispy pork and mushrooms and onions and garlic and peppers and cherry peppers and broth. It was a nice soup. Yesterday was a day for such soup because I have a cold. I have the sniffles and a stuffy nose and a nagging cough. The cherry peppers helped the symptoms.
I don't know how I got a cold. I don't go anywhere and I don't do anything. Whenever I go out, I wash my hands immediately upon returning. I am fastidious about never touching my fingers to my eyes or nose. Still, the cold finds a way in. "Silly mortal, we cold germs have been around a lot longer than you pitiful humans.".
Today I will go through my usual cold fighting routine. It may be shorter than usual as I only have about a half gallon of bleach left. I go through a lot of bleach each month. The smell of bleach reminds me of when I lived with my parents. The smell of bleach permeated the whole house, especially the kitchen. My Father would mix cold water and bleach for the final rinse of the dishes.
Just speaking of the smells of my Mother's kitchen reminds me that I have not completed one of my hopes. I have to, once more, get her recipe for American Chop Suey from my Brother. He has told me it inumerable times but I have never written it down and my memory is now quite fragmented on any thing that has occured within the last ten years.
This reminds me of a Saturday Night Live sketch where President Reagan was asked about the Iran-Contra incident and he stated that he didn't remember anything about it. The tag line was "Mr. President, the next time you sell weapons to people the call us The Great Satan, for God's sake write it down!".
So today will be more hot spicy soup and sitting and feeling sorry for poor poor pitiful me. The former is new, the latter is all too familiar around here.

My Main Man

The mail was delivered Tuesday, Wednesday, and yesterday. The schools are all closed, the towns are in a piffle about snow removal, the Governor just about closed the whole state, and still the mail gets delivered.
Is it possible that we have the wrong people running the government? The Post Office seems to be able to handle anything. They handle everything without a lot of whining and crying about the impossibility of their job. They are self supporting despite being forced to handle the government's mail for free. When they raise the price of something, they raise it by a penny or two. I am always amazed that a letter can go all of the way across the country for forty-four cents, and there is no handling charge! The Post Office takes care of their own when retirement time comes. They take care of their own when sickness or tragedy happens.
The people of New Orleans would have been much better off if the Post Office was handling their relief after the Hurricane. Admittedly, FEMA probably saved a great many palomino horses but was a little short on delivering food and water to human beings.
The Post Office is run by a General that has never endorsed any war or new efficient way of killing people. We are missing a great opportunity here. Instead of a TEA Party, we should all endorse a Zip Party. Then maybe we could all stop being P.O.'d at the government. Maybe it
is time for Americans to finally endorse a Stamp Act and let the Post Office handle things.
When is the last time that you saw your Congressman in your town? When is the last time that you saw the Mailman?

Oh the weather outsides delightful!

At last we have some decent snow. It is not that little sissy snow that simply messes up the roads and causes all of the unemployed landscapers to furiously circle around in their pick-up trucks with the plows attached, chasing one lonely snowflake. It is good, deep, fluffy snow. The kind of snow that generates snow forts and igloos and shoveled driveways with straight crisp sides proudly showing that one knows what one is doing while one is shoveling. There are always reports of old people collapsing while shoveling snow. Considering all of the other ways that there are to go, dropping in the driveway while shoveling doesn't seem like a bad way to go. Come Springtime, someone will find you and defrost you and maybe raise a glass to your memory.
I took a walk in the snow. I enjoy walking in the snow very much, almost as much as I used to enjoy driving in a really heavy snow with the large flakes streaming towards the windshield. I used to feel like Captain Kirk on the bridge of the Enterprise as the stars streamed towards him.
I went for the walk because I had made the one mistake that no New Englander should ever make. I thought that I was prepared for any type of blizzard. The larder is overflowing and I have plenty of milk and bread. This morning I discovered that I was down to the last roll of toilet paper! There are a lot of things that one can do without. There are a lot of things that can be improvised from other things. T.P. is not in either category.
When I returned, I made a nice roast beef with mashed potatoes and green beans. The gravy was drippings with beef stock and a nice ruby port and garlic and onion and carrot. The beef was tender, the potatoes had a nice gravy filled well in them, and the snow was falling outside while I pleasantly munched away. After that I took a nice nap.
Ah this New England! Is there any better place to live in the world? I don't think so. I don't ever want to live in a place where cocoa and wool socks are not necessary to life.

Gently

It is gently snowing outside. It is not a blizzard or heavy snow. It was snowing when I got up and I don't know how long it has been snowing but there is not much accumulation The cedar tree outside looks like a Christmas tree with its puffballs of snow gently rocking in the breeze. The cedar waxwings are darting in and out of the branches, munching away on the berries. Each time that one lands on a branch, the puffball explodes as if it were a ripe dandelion. The birds will visit that tree all Winter. They never eat all of the berries at once so they have a full larder all Winter. It is not a Country Buffet to them. It is more like a snack bar. Humans would do well to emulate their restraint.
So as it snows, I sit here in a place overflowing with food. The last time that I went to the grocery store I really overdid it. The refrigerator is bursting with frozen and fresh food. The counter tops are piled with food also. All this for a man that only eats one meal a day.
Today I think that I will venture once more into the mysterious world of soups. I have five different kinds of mushrooms and I have leeks and potatoes and heavy cream and butter. More things may end up in the soup as many of the fresh vegetables are starting to look a little wimpy. I detest throwing away food. I remember a Doctor telling me that the best fed thing in America was the average American's garbage disposal. My freezer is jam packed with meat trimmings, vegetable trimmings, and one beautiful ham bone that will end up as Swedish Yellow Pea Soup. I don't eat out (Two episodes of food poisoning spawned this axiom) and I don't buy prepared foods. The many cans of cream of mushroom soup are a necessary exception.
The ham bone is from a whole ham. I occasionally splurge on a ham as there is a great deal of meat for the price. I end up eating ham for a long time. The only troubling part of the ham is waking up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water. Pork Fat Rules!!

Bracing

Yesterday I went for a walk. There was no necessity for the walk but I felt that it was time to blow the dust off of me. The Sun was shining and the ice was melting but a bitter wind was blowing. My thoughts turned to O.E. Rolvag's book. I also thought of the Winter that I was working outside in upstate Michigan. The waterfall was not iced up but the wind seemed to find every opening in my coat. I even bypassed the library. As I was passing Riverview, I thought "Well, any port in a storm.". The ice on the sidewalks was treacherous. There was a layer of meltwater on top of the ice and negotiating it required small steps and arms out for balance.
It was refreshing to walk in such weather. I have always been more comfortable with cold weather than hot weather. It's time to load up the longboat and go and pillage a few monasteries. Monasteries wouldn't get pillaged if they hadn't accumulated so much nice glittery stuff. Nobody wants a boat full of turnips and sackcloth. How they get so much shiny stuff is simple. Father Riordan once told me "You can't take it with you but you can send it on ahead.". Simple is a keyword in this procedure.
The score is now Nemesis 1, N 0. It is time to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again.
Today will be baking and cooking and looking out the window at the cold. I got enough cold yesterday and the seed catalogues are whispering their siren call.

Lateness

Last night was filled with the same old nightmares. The nightmares about being late for school, being late for roll call in the Army, being late for work. I awakened and was heartened by the fact that none of those situations apply to me anymore.
As I lay there in the dark, my thoughts turned to a time long ago. The Lady of Literature took me to see a movie. The movie was "Pele the Conqueror". I later got the book from the Boston Public Library. In the book was an incident that applied to my life very much. I never took any action on that message. I should have. It would have changed my life so much.
So, despite my statements on resolutions, I will try to finally put that lesson into place. My old Nemesis is laughing right now, for I have so many times tried to lay that nemesis to rest. It remains to be seen if I will be the conqueror or the conquered. That Nemesis has beat the living tar out of three generations of my family and I am sure it is not very concerned with this resolution. Watch out Nemesis, there is a new resolve in town!

Recycling

The New Year is here. I didn't make any resolutions but I can use the ones from last year. They are still in the box as I didn't use any of them. I have so many things to be thankful for that it doesn't seem right to make plans for new things. There are still the same old plans and dreams and hopes in the box and they too shall be recycled.
What is left are the wishes. I wish for peace for the world. I wish that no child be cold or hungry or in pain. Every parent has these wishes. The world is brimming with parents. Unfortunately the world also has a plethora of leaders. The leader's wishes are quite often different from parent's. The parents of the world want peace. Someday the leaders are going to have to step aside and let them have it. There will still be conflicts and disagreements and tragedy but not on the massive scale that our leaders have led us to.
Wars are the tragedy that must be eliminated. There is a phrase that is used in infantry leader training. It is "Follow Me!". There might be a few less wars if our leaders pursued this policy. They seem to have a policy of "Go do what I tell you and let me know how you make out.".
The only leader that I can think of that subscibed to "Follow Me" was Alexander the Great. Alexander was always at the forefront of all of the fighting. We are sorely lacking in Great leaders. The Alabama Air National Guard doesn't qualify for an example of "Follow Me". One shining example of the hope for humanity sticks in my mind. One day in India, Alexander said "Follow Me" and his men said "Nope" and they all turned around and started home.
So maybe the byword for this year will not be "Follow Me" but will be "Nope". Nope I want to go home and watch my children grow and hold the hand of my wife and live each day to the fullest and anticipate each tommorow. I want to live in peace with my neighbors, watch their children grow, and age slowly without strife. I can live with misfortune, I can live with hard times. I do not want to be the cause of any of them. I do not want dominance but a little Domestic Tranquillity would be nice.
One last thought about getting older. I am thankful that wrinkles don't hurt.