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.
This moose team belonged to W.R. (Billy/Buffalo Bill) Day. They were found by a Metis near Baptiste Lake in 1910 and were reared by bottle and broken to drive by Mr. Day at Athabasca Landing during the winter of 1910. Mr. Day and the moose team hauled mail and supplies.
Poverty, Middle-Class, and Wealthy. This chart at AVI is mostly for fun, I think, because it is so oversimplified and reductionistic. For examples, there are distinctions between Poverty and Genteel Poverty, and between New Wealth and Old.
But let's just say some of it generally applies, sometimes. Differences In Attitudes. Click on chart to biggify.
Most Maggie's Farmers love coffee. Most Americans love coffee, and do not fuss too much about how good it is as long as it is hot. Or iced. I drink plenty of Dunkin Donuts coffee. It's not very good at all, but it's a familiar routine. Just remember the rule "Friends don't let friends drink Starbucks."
My favorite coffees are Espresso (as made in Italy) with sugar. I have yet to find a decent espresso in the US - too watery. I like Iberian Cafe con leche. Also, a cappucino is a good breakfast. What I have enjoyed most, recently, is Arabic (aka Greek, aka Turkish) coffee.
Do you remember percolators? They still sell them, can get them on Amazon. They basically boiled the heck out of your Maxwell House coffee, but nobody cared. You put them on the burner, later plugged them in before Mr. Coffee was invented.
In European 1930s street-brawling fashion, no one knows quite whether Trump is a 1990s Clinton Democrat, a 1980s Reagan Republican, or a Perotist misfit. He has thrown a ball and chain through the pretentious glass of American campaigning. Trump excites voters because he can profane, smear, interrupt, fabricate, and be profane—on the premise that as a performance artist he reifies what they think but don’t dare say about a corrupt political class and its warped, politically correct values. Trump reminds Americans what deterrence is: the supposedly courageous media, the so-called truth-to-power leftists, and the sober and judicious careerist politicians are all terrified how he might reply or react to their criticism. None of them want to spend 2-3 days trading smears with Donald Trump.
Mrs. BD and I spent a balmy (low 50s) Sunday tramping around midtown because we had a special date day for elegant lunch and ballet, and walking around NYC is something we love to do. Golly, it is a blast to walk around and to look around.
Instead of tramping, I should have said "Trumping" around midtown. That is because The Donald was on our minds, and we must have passed ten buildings with his name on them. Not to mention the Plaza Hotel which he used to own. We kept laughing about it, and I laughed some more when we got to one of our favorite NYC lunch joints - Jean-Georges right off Columbus Circle. Wonderful prix-fixe luncheons. Damn if I had never noticed before that it is on the ground floor of The Trump International Hotel and Tower, southernmost building on Central Park West.
View from our table, Central Park on left, Columbus Circle on right, mounted cop in center, construction cranes everywhere in the sky:
Just a couple more pics below the fold. Marianne would have enjoyed all this.
9:28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.
9:29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
9:30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him.
9:31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
9:32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.
9:33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah" -- not knowing what he said.
9:34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.
9:35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"
9:36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
9:37 On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him.
9:38 Just then a man from the crowd shouted, "Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child.
9:39 Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him.
9:40 I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not."
9:41 Jesus answered, "You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here."
9:42 While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.
9:43a And all were astounded at the greatness of God.
The great Okefenokee Swamp - 430,000 acres straddling Georgia and Florida.
Mrs. BD is talking me into doing a kayak trip through it. Being the home of Pogo, I should be more enthused but I watched this excellent video and think I got the gist of it without having to actually do it. Lots of reptiles.
Really, not enough interesting bird life there. Everglades, or the Georgia barrier islands are better for that.
Many Americans feel helpless in the face of government invasions into private life, all in the name of safety. We have police video cameras at every intersection. Cops are using fake cell towers to listen in on calls. They want to eliminate cash so private transactions can't be private. The EPA wants to police your land use. Etc, etc. Government agencies are militarizing. Why is all of this happening now?
My grandfather's first wife grew up in this wonderful farmhouse in New Hampshire. Her name was Mabel Porter, but I don't know what town this was in. I don't know the age of the photo either. She died childless of leukemia shortly after her marriage so she is not really an ancestor.
Grandpa grew up on a farm in northern Connecticut, but became a bit of a dandy and a prominent cardiologist and found a second wife after a while but my guess is that Mabel was his true love (Run-on sentence). Her name was never mentioned after she died, and he always called his second wife "Mother." He focused only on his work.
Grandma was a farm girl from Norwalk, Connecticut who became a teacher of immigrant schoolkids in Brooklyn. Mostly Jewish immigrants, she told me, but some Irish and Italian. They all had lice. Gramps met her when she was doing summer work at a resort he liked in Rhode Island. She bore Grandpa 2 very smart kids.
Trees are the classic New England streetfront vase-shaped Elms, now, alas, mostly gone due to the blight. The Maggie's HQ has some architectural similarities.
ThoughtCrimes: 
Bring Back Dueling!
The great 
Showdown