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.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
This year, we're doing a light brunch after church (quiche, salad, crudite, cheese, etc) and then pizza and Easter Cake with the family littles later in the day.
Which reminds me of my favorite pizza joint in NYC: Artichoke, right off the High Line and next to Chelsea Market. Not thin crust, but thin enough. A good New Yorky joint. Forget the artichoke thing - their basic ones are delicious. Good beers too.
Mrs. BD and her dad ventured out today to the real Italian market a few towns away. Everybody there speaks Italian or Sicilian, including most of the customers. Place smells amazing from all of the cheese and salumi and pickled vegetables. And, next door, is an Italian pastry shop. All of it, the best food on this planet.
We tend towards the Italian on religious holidays. Mrs. BD is 50%; her dad is as Irish as can be. However, trust me, Italian blood beats celtic or anglo-saxon every time.
She needed candied citron for Easter Pie (Wheat Pie). Naturally, they brought home a bunch of arancini for lunch. They were the size of baseballs. I've never seen them that big in Sicily. Also, baccala for tonight. Hard as wood at first.
For today, baccala to keep with her family tradition. For Easter dinner, a Nice Legga Lamb. That's the Irish part. Just 4 of us, sad to say this year. Distancing, for what it's worth. I miss the whole BD family but I miss church a lot too. It doesn't feel right. I love our congregation.
We all know that statistical correlation does not imply any causational link. I remember a famous study (in the news) that correlated eating broccoli with cancer.
Who wants to run for public office with this kind of lawfare going on? It is surreal.
Despite his personality flaws, the swarms of bees that have attacked him since he came down the escalator have been remarkable. He's a target because he has a personal magnetism - maybe like Teddy Roosevent. A magnificently independent SOB.
Politics can be a rough game. Revenge politics and about 2024. DeSantis is next.
My buddy and I had Aile de Raie for dinner last night. I think poached, with a nice sauce. (Our wives had pork osso buco.)
Have you ever caught a Skate? I've caught a couple over the years on Cape Cod while fishing for Stripers. Released them. Felt like you hooked a log. Should have cooked them.
I've had Joue de Raie once, years ago in France. Like a scallop. The "wings" are the more usual menu thing. A nice sweet white meat, and a first time for me.
Everybody who visits Atlantic beaches has seen their blackened egg cases ("mermaid purses") washed up. Skates lay those egg sacks, while Sting Rays bear live young. People eat Sting Rays, but do not step on one.
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Astrobiology: The Rise and Fall of a Nascent Science - 
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The People
My buddy and I had Aile de Raie for dinner last night. I think poached, with a nice sauce. (Our wives had pork osso buco.)