We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
In the mailbox today, on one of those long sticky-notes:
"Irish woman looking for a housekeeping job or helping out on weekends. Please call: (phone #)."
How can one not give her a call? "Helping out" sounds darn good, and so does "Irish." But can she split logs, remove spiderwebs and dustballs the size of raccoons, and do the laundry without bleaching everything to smithereens? And can she make mashed potatoes?
Surely the latter. But I already know the Irish Secret: A whole stick of butter, a thing of sour cream, a cup of heavy cream, and a mountain of salt and pepper. Almost forgot one minor detail - a bunch of boiled potatoes in there too, mashed to a lumpless mush by strong Irish arms.
Mr B, you need some four leaf clover's in there. Make sure the Irish lass is catholic. On the bright side at least its not a Muslim woman looking to do house work. Put some garlic in those mashed potatoes, and you have Dago spuds.