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.
A reader was dismayed that I put our love for little Wellfleet, MA out to the entire world on these internets. Reader wants it kept secret.
Well, this news might help keep some people away. Sharks in Wellfleet Harbor. I guess they want the oysters. I have reassured everybody in recent years that the Great Whites hang out in the ocean, not Cape Cod Bay, and certainly not a harbor. Wrong. I promise that if one of those SOBs bumps my kayak, I will smack it so hard with my paddle that its mother will feel the vibration.
Whatever you do, stay away from our terrible, dull, dangerous Wellfleet. Especially from the beaches and restaurants and art galleries. You are neither wanted nor welcome. The people all love Hillary, our oysters taste bad, there is too much fresh seafood, not a single chain fast food for 40 miles - and the water is too cold for the timid.
16:21 From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.
16:22 And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, "God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you."
16:23 But he turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."
16:24 Then Jesus told his disciples, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.
16:25 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.
16:26 For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?
16:27 "For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done.
16:28 Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom."
For me, it's the US Open. A day session is pure delight. Better than a Broadway show. One of the thousand best things about NYC. Wander around, watch some doubles, some singles, some gal games, some guy games, eat some sausage sandwiches and pizza. The night sessions are too late for me, except on TV.
Worth a trip from anywhere, if you ask me. Flushing (in Queens, NYC) is easy to get to. The Open is a multi-day festival. In the day sessions, it's great to sit on the bleachers, up close, in the side courts for a while.
As much as I love playing tennis, I think it's the only sport I would rather watch than play. I love touch football, baseball, used to play hockey, squash, and lacrosse too. Sheesh, preppy sports I guess. Parents protective, didn't want me to play football even though I was a good sprinter.
Right now, Meyer is giving Nadal a headache. Wonderful stuff. Nadal will win, though.
A friend has a patch of Castor plants, self-seeding in the garden. 5-6' tall, dramatic foliage.
Shade plants, annuals in northern climates. They are the source of castor oil, also of the poison ricin. However, many garden plants are poisonous (eg daffodils).
Except for Texas, the US will focus on wholesome outdoor fun, gardening, kayaking, mountain hiking, exercise, and grilling meat from today until Tuesday morning. So will we. Except for church...
So no depressing or alarming morning links but there are plenty of wholesome posts in our pipeline. End of summer, one more time. Fall is a fresh start. Time matters. Where born in time?
In the lonely night In the blinking stardust of a pale blue light You're comin' through to me in black and white When we were made of dreams.
You're blowing down the shaky street, You're hearing my heart beat In the record breaking heat Where we were born in time...
As we have been saying for years, there is no right "healthy diet" because humans are omnivores. As we have also been saying for years, there is no benefit in a "low fat" or high-vegetable and fruit diet. The evidence for this has been pouring in for 20 years, but people are slow to relinquish their biases. Two recent updates, yet again:
By the way, does any normal person in the Western World eat five servings of fruit and vegetables daily anyway? But never mind, it doesn't matter. We all know that broccoli causes cancer, carrots and fruit are basically sugar, and coffee helps you live forever.
Everything goes downhill quickly - cardio, endurance, speed, strength. Measurably downhill in 10 days. Unfortunately, things do not ratchet up in a positive direction unless you keep pushing it. In fact, there is no ratchet. There is only uphill or downhill.
That's why Mrs. BD and I try to stick to a fitness regime even on vacation. Too much time and money invested in it to let it slip away. Time off is like blowing your savings.
Wealthy Danish (and Swedish) families often escape to the US - but it's difficult for Europeans to obtain US citizenship and Europeans do not want to be illegal
August is blueberry season in New England. Local blueberries, that is. Our wild blueberries are the highbush and the lowbush, and both are smaller and zingier than the commercial varieties.
There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad equipment.
My sister
There is no such thing as "waterproof."
Our Hebrides guide Craig MacDonald. (In Scottish, the "Mac" is de-emphasized and the "Donald" is emphasized, because the Donald is the real family tribal name).
Labor Day 
A friend has a patch of 
Image via 
NASA wants to 
August is blueberry season in New England. Local blueberries, that is. Our wild blueberries are the highbush and the lowbush, and both are smaller and zingier than the commercial varieties.