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.
Ever seen the TV show? I hadn't, but a chef friend who loves the show advised me to check out the YouTubes. It is entertaining and educational. Chef Gordon Ramsey goes into messed-up restaurants and advises them on how to improve.
You'll never want to go to a mid-range restaurant again to eat their thawed crap. Plenty of Ramsey's job seems to be family therapy. It's a study of excuses, blaming, and scapegoating. The family interactions in the Italian restaurants are hilariously hostile. A sample (lots more fun ones on YouTube):
I recently posted about the desirability of attrition in colleges due to substandard performance, expressing the view that low graduation rates are a good, not bad thing, and that they lend some credibility to an expensive piece of paper.
Competitive and highly-selective graduate schools, however, probably should have lower attrition rates as their standards for entry are so relatively high.
...what if you are afraid to control your own destiny? What if you have such low self-confidence that you believe it isn’t worth it to even try, that a Steve Jobs is the exception rather than the rule?
Think of the ingredients that make for a good school. Small classes. Well-educated teachers. Plenty of funding. Combine, mix well, then bake.
Turns out, your recipe would be horribly wrong, at least according to a new working paper out of Harvard. Its take away: Schools shouldn't focus on resources. They should focus on culture.
Read the whole thing. Schools aren't about money. Excellent education is inexpensive, except for technical levels of science. All it takes is a heated room, a blackboard, a demanding and interested teacher, and some curious kids.
Here's how we keep it simple and organized in the BD household: We store the Christmas stuff in chests of drawers in the living room. Nothing to lug up and down, no boxes, etc.
Another good trick: throw your tree lights in the garbage, and buy new ones each year. Something strange happens to them during a year's storage. Not really worth saving, between the untangling and the dead bulbs.
Our pal Gwynnie makes it even simpler: he has his fake tree pre-wired, and just drags it up from the basement. I am not ready for that level of decadence. Sheesh. Why not just keep the ornaments on it too, and lower it on a wire from a niche in the attic, then spray Balsam fragrance on it? Just email me, Gwynnie, and I'll give you a hand. I like Christmas trees.
We had our family Christmas last night. The kids will be away, all over the planet (Vietnam then Czecho, Birmingham Alabama, etc) on the 25th. We had Lobster hors d'oevres, Butternut Squash soup with my special herb and parmesan crouton on top, Italian pork loin with bay in wine vinegar, roast taters, beets, Brussel Sprouts in oil, and Christmas Tree Cake plus a mountain of Italian pastries ("Don't forget the cannolis"). All with either champagne, or Martinelli's for the teetotalers.
We're planning our little neighborhood Christmas Eve light supper before church, as we always do. Cocktails and Eggnog, poached salmon with dill and yoghurt sauce - then run off to church to sing carols. Nice. I have always felt that Christmas Eve with family, neighbors, and friends is more special than Christmas day. It's like anticipation of a birth. However, with Christmas on Sunday this year, I think we'll go to church then too. Why not? Church always does me good.
Off to the Big City now for a first delivered Christmas present - The Voices of Ascension at the Metropolitan Museum with dinner after with my in-laws (we focus on events and experiences - not stuff - for Christmas treats. Feeding the soul is how I think of these things.)
I buy no things, or almost none. Cool experiences last forever, but stuff is just stuff that takes up space, and I have enuf guns and neckties.) Man, did I get some good, fun tix for this holiday season including some Met Museum Christmas singing tix, some Met Opera Butterfly tix, ballet and dance tix, etc. for the kiddies. There is nothing better than dinner and tix in NYC for memorable Christmas season treats. No NYCB Nutcracker - seen that enough times. Once is wonderful but, like magic, once is enough. OK, maybe twice. Nobody does it better...
Pic is a relaxed Christmas Dog. I need to get a good pic of the BD daughter's pup too. We always pretend to detest tiny dogs, but you cannot help but love them once you meet and get to know them. These little things just crack you up. I just worry that my pup will bite its head off in playfulness.
It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings. Tough to find a 15 year-old Butterfly, so they don't even try:
The reason to link that bit of trivia is to reflect on how these sorts of things would have been handled by the MSM in the Bush admin. Bush, on his vacations, went to his dusty ranch and labored. A Texan with his family's Yankee genes and habits.
1:26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth,
1:27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary.
1:28 And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you."
1:29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
1:30 The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.
1:31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.
1:32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.
1:33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end."
1:34 Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?"
1:35 The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.
1:36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.
1:37 For nothing will be impossible with God."
1:38 Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.
Dominican Brother "Angelico" spent more of his career in the Dominican Friary of San Marco in Fiesole (just outside Florence).
That old friary is now a convent. You can visit the chapel just by hopping off the Firenze to Fiesole bus at the tobacco shop on the corner, which is what we did. We were the only people there. In fact, we had to bang on the door to get somebody to come and unlock the chapel for us. We like staying in the Fiesole hills and busing down to town, just like Lorenzo di Medici used to do on his Vespa.
It's better to look at art in situ than in museums. Fra Angelico's Nativity, in that chapel:
Not to salaries in the Liberal Arts, anyway. A quote:
In general, the parental costs of college are spiraling upward, but the increases are largely not going into the pocket of the full-time faculty member. We drive a Honda Accord and a VW Jetta, respectively, and most of my colleagues drive similar cars.
The BMWs, the Lexuses, the Infinitis, and the sports cars belong to the students, at least those whose high-end parents most typically bemoan the costs of sending their students to us.
BMWs in college? That's lame. I sent all of my kids to college with Ferraris, didn't you? For their self-esteem.
"Though Christmas is a religious holiday, secularists should appreciate its great contribution to Western Civilization: the lesson that all men are equal in their fundamental human dignity."
The celebration of Christmas has been a powerful teacher of the dignity of the human person. For Christians, Christmas is the feast of the Incarnation—the celebration of the moment when God became a man in order to live among men. It shows that God thought of human beings as worthy of being saved, and that he sought to save them by taking on humanity in a perfected form, thus opening the way to their own perfection. Christian belief in the Incarnation is thus inseparable from belief in the objective, and even transcendent, value of the human race as a whole, and of each human person as an individual.
Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb, Now leaves His well-belov'd imprisonment, There He hath made Himself to His intent Weak enough, now into the world to come; But O, for thee, for Him, hath the inn no room? Yet lay Him in this stall, and from the Orient, Stars and wise men will travel to prevent The effect of Herod's jealous general doom. Seest thou, my soul, with thy faith's eyes, how He Which fills all place, yet none holds Him, doth lie? Was not His pity towards thee wondrous high, That would have need to be pitied by thee? Kiss Him, and with Him into Egypt go, With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe.
In addition to your usual gift of a free subscription to Maggie's Farm, our present, once again, is an introduction to artist George Henry Durrie (1820-1863):
Born in Hartford, Connecticut, George Durrie was known as the "snowman" because of the many winter scenes he painted. He lived most of his life in New Haven and earned a reputation for rural landscape scenes, especially snow scenes, which he introduced as subject matter in American painting. His paintings "provide an excellent record of rural life in the mid-nineteenth century . . . and his carefully recorded details of nature and foliage added authenticity to his depictions."
This is Road to Boston, 1861. More of his work at this site.
ZeroHedge posted an article that lists 50 crazy facts about the US Economy. It is pretty impressive how this economy has been 'recovering' for so long, and yet these facts exist. Did I say impressive? My bad.
One of the 50:
A staggering 48.5% of all Americans live in a household that receives some form of government benefits. Back in 1983, that number was below 30 percent
"End of the Line." Reader reminded me this one, with the then recently-late Roy Orbison's guitar in the rocking chair, and with George Harrison with his cancer growing, unknown, inside him. Dylan? Just a humble member of the group.
Good tune (not embeddable, but well-worth the effort of pushing the link). Good fellows making music. I love it. I'd guess Captain Tom would love it too.
"Well, it's all right, even if you're old and gray..."
Gotta remember to tell Pastor that, if I get hit by a truck, he can play this tune in church. "It's all right...we're going to the end of the line."
The Monks of Norcia would like to wish you a Merry Christmas, as the nativity of Our Lord nears. We also want to share with you our most recent newsletter.
We thank you for being a part of our extended monastic family, as you provide much prayer and support for us throughout the year. May God bless you abundantly during this special season of Christmas.
Sincerely in Christ,
The Monks of Norcia
Regular readers know that the Bird Dog family, while Protestant in tradition (well, Mrs. BD is RC in tradition, Protestant in current practice), are fond of the Benedictine Monks of Norcia, offer them some modest support, and visited them, chatted with them and worshipped with them this past summer. Some American monks there.
Norcia was the home of St. Benedict. It is a joy and a privilege to support these people.
Not to seem irreverent, but the other reason to visit Norcia is for the food. They run buses up from Rome for the day just to eat and drink there, and to ride home in a wonderful Italian stupor with their bags of salumi, country wine, and dried stringozzi beside them. Possibly the best food in Italia: Porcini, Salumi, Cinghiale, Stringozzi, Polenta, Risotto, Tartuffo - and happily no spaghetti and no tomato sauce to be found.
Photo was our Italian Primo in Norcia - polenta with tartuffo sauce. The antipasto was also superb with the local cinghiale salumi and prosciutto, olives, and amazing Pecorino. As I recall, we had, as Secondo, Cighiali stew with porcini with a side of spinach with oil and garlic. That's real Italian. Can't beat it.
How come 99% of the people shopping in the malls, at Macy's, etc. are either overweight or plain fat?
I took a little seasonal tour in Manhattan, where, for sure, the average person on Madison Ave. or 5th Ave. looks a lot more shipshape than the average person in America. But other than that, do all of the fit, skinny people shop online? Or are most people wide loads these days? What's that about?
All the people I work with are pretty trim, in good shape, reasonably fashionable, and they do not go to malls, discount stores, or to Macy's. Nothing against Macy's, which is a fine store with tons of useful and pleasant stuff which I do not need but, at Bloomies, Saks, and Tiffany, people certainly are generally more attractive. Some people there clearly spend more money on Yoga, working out, and Botox than they spend on stuffing their faces with carbs, and I guess that is a strange segment of today's America too - people paying hard-earned money for the opportunity for physical effort at the gym. Sheesh. People should get paid for that effort instead of paying for it. Women used to say that "you can't be too thin or too rich," but I think both are in error.
There was a time in America when people paid you for physical labor, and a time when prosperous was fat. Crazy world. Oh, well, fat, medium, or fit - it's a free country. Best to be whatever you want, as long as you shop and spend!
All of my own minimal Christmas shopping is online, at my wine shop, or at my cigar shop, but I like to poke around town at holiday season for the fun of it. NYC is magical at Christmastime, Christmas cheer and decorations, and highly annoying Christmas Muzak (if I hear Drummer Boy one more time I promise to shoot myself), and wonderful Christmas Capitalism.
Put it on the Mastercard, suckers! It's priceless. Do it for Jesus!
But is Maggie's a "conservative" website? I think we're centrist. Speaking only for myself, in my link collections I just try to link info, events, and perspectives that the MSM tends to overlook or desires to insulate us from for their own political reasons. Perhaps "contrarian" would be a word.
She's wrong, I think. Rich or poor, there will always be rotten people who work any system and use any system for freebies. Shame on them all, whether Welfare Queens, lazy jerks with aching backs, or Jon Corzines. They are more deserving of pity than of scorn. Throw them some money, and the heck with them.
Semper Fi, wherever, whenever, whatever. Those who try to denigrate stalwart service, who can only nitpick from the comfort of armchairs, can go to hell.
On December 15, 1944, the desperate German army launched its surprise Ardennes Offensive, otherwise known as the Battle of the Bulge, to reach Antwerp and interrupt Allied supplies. Allied control of the Belgian town of Bastogne was an obstacle to the German tank advance. In the coldest winter, without supplies being able to reach them, the small American force led by the 101st Airborne held out. The battle is described here. There were many heroes among the US forces. There was, also, another hero, a nurse, born in the Congo. Here's the story:
A Belgian nurse who saved the lives of hundreds of American soldiers during the Battle of the Bulge at the end of World War II was given a U.S. award for valor Monday — 67 years late.
Congolese-born Augusta Chiwy, now 93, received the Civilian Award for Humanitarian Service medal from U.S. Ambassador Howard Gutman at a ceremony in the military museum in Brussels.
"She helped, she helped, and she helped," Gutman said at the ceremony. He said the long delay in presenting the award was because it was assumed that Chiwy had been killed when a bomb destroyed her hospital.
The Battle of the Bulge was a ferocious encounter in the final stages of World War II. In desperation, Adolf Hitler ordered a massive attack on allied forces in the Ardennes, in southern Belgium. More than 80,000 American soldiers were killed, captured or wounded.
Chiwy had volunteered to assist in an aid station in the town of Bastogne, where wounded and dying U.S. soldiers in their thousands were being treated by a single doctor in December 1944 and January 1945. Chiwy braved the gunfire, helping whoever she could, and saving the lives of hundreds of American GIs.
The Nazis hoped the surprise attack would reach the sea at the Belgian port of Antwerp and cut off the advancing allied armies. Bastogne, a market town that was also a critical road junction, was quickly besieged.
AP
Belgian nurse Augusta Chiwy, center, who saved hundreds of wounded GIs during the WWII Battle of the Bulge, receives an award for valor from the U.S. Army, in Brussels, Monday, Dec. 12, 2011. The U.S. ambassador says there was a 67-year delay in presenting the award because it was assumed that Augusta Chiwy had herself perished in the battle. (AP Photo/Yves Logghe)
The U.S. troops — led by paratroopers of the 101st Airborne Division — found themselves surrounded. But they resisted fiercely, and the key crossroads was never taken.
During the battle, Brig. Gen. Anthony McAuliffe, the 101st's acting division commander, delivered his famous reply to a German surrender demand when he scribbled: "To the German commander: Nuts! The American commander." In the ensuing siege, Bastogne was heavily shelled and quickly reduced to ruins. Another Belgian nurse — Chiwy's friend Renee Lemaire — was killed along with about 30 patients when a bomb penetrated a cellar where she was tending to the wounded.
Gutman said the diminutive Chiwy combed battlefields during the battle, often coming under enemy fire, to collect the wounded in the deep snow. "What I did was very normal," Chiwy said during the ceremony. "I would have done it for anyone. We are all children of God."
But Col. J.P. McGee, who commands a brigade of the 101st Airborne Division based in Fort Campbell, Kentucky, said that to the wounded soldiers Chiwy was "a goddess."
"Men lived and families were reunited due to your efforts," he said. McGee said the army's doctor in Bastogne, John Prior, had joked that the German snipers couldn't hit Chiwy because she was so tiny. But Chiwy, who moved to Belgium from the colony of Congo before the war, responded that they were just bad shots. Historian Alexander Omhof, who has dealt extensively with the history of the allied advance, also praised Chiwy's deeds during the month-long battle. Chiwy then received a letter of appreciation from Gen. David Petraeus, himself a former commander of the 101st Airborne.
After the battle, Chiwy slipped into obscurity, working as a hospital nurse treating spinal injuries. She married a Belgian soldier and had two children. She was finally located several years ago by a British author and historian, Martin King, who had heard stories about a black nurse at Bastogne.
Why unhappy people become Liberals
Here's how we keep it simple and organized in the BD household: We store the Christmas stuff in chests of drawers in the living room. Nothing to lug up and down, no boxes, etc.
Reader informed us that 
A friend told me that
Nativity
In addition to your usual gift of a free subscription to Maggie's Farm, our present, once again, is an introduction to artist George Henry Durrie (1820-1863):
Dear Friends,
How come 99% of the people shopping in the malls, at Macy's, etc. are either overweight or plain fat? 
Toon via 
