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.
It's not the snow (why do they call them snow "storms" when it's just snow and a little blow?), it's not the invigorating cold, but it's the ice that's the challenge this morning. Comment: "Snowy weather, and stores are sold out of eggs, milk, and bread. Does that mean everybody is living on French Toast?"
Catch up on our weekend posts - good stuff. Hey, we predicted the score pretty well, did we not? Good game, unlike most Super Bowls. We went to a happily guacamole-free party. They had veggie dip, chili, cornbread, salad, baked brie, and brownies, two cozy blazing fireplaces, and no giant TV. Perfect.
5 AM today at the Maggie's HQ, waiting for my plow and sand team to show up. I love it all:
Great Super Bowl. Did Mike Bobo call Seattle's last offensive play? (UGA fans will understand the reference.)
At the one-yard line with Lynch in the backfield and the game, and the world championship in the balance: a pass play? Woody Hayes' sage words concerning the forward pass: "Three things can happen when you pass and two of them are bad." ...with Lynch in the backfield. The antepenultimate play's circus catch must have had someone feeling invincible.
What a way to roll the dice with all of the chips on the line. It was a time to call all bets off. I am a great Monday morning QB.
Perhaps the Patriots were just, in fact, Destiny's Darlings.
And, that snow? You may keep it. 54°F here this morning and the only ice is in the Frigidaire.