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.
Ophelia gently blew through here yesterday, resulting in a literal windfall of nearly-ripe and ripe peaches. Peaches ripen in late Aug-Sept. up here in Yankee-land. The yard guys must have eaten a dozen yesterday, juice running down their chins, (I don't spray 'em), but there are a couple of bushels more, on the ground and on the tree. Plenty enough to spare some to the squirrels and possums and box turtles that love 'em.
So the splendid youngest daughter made her dad a peach pie. Wow. Crust from scratch, too. Nothing better. Can't dare dilute it with ice cream...plus I didn't see any in the freezer. Now to yard work and maybe fishing later.