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.
One of the many reasons people detest Boehner and McConnell is this very same thing: lack of energy. They must have done something to get to their present positions—something rather Machiavellian, I’d imagine. But it certainly doesn’t come across in anything that would give people the impression that they will fight for them. They don’t just fail to walk the walk, they fail to talk the talk.
It speaks of the helplessness of a man in the street, who feels he has no control over the policies made in Brussels, Frankfurt, and Strasbourg, not to speak of Washington, and whose political power, enshrined in his vote, has been devalued to the point of irrelevance. It speaks of the frustration of the blue-collar workers, whose jobs have been taken over by foreigners from other parts of Europe and whose unemployment insurance and social benefits must be shared with foreigners from outside Europe. The influx of immigrants makes it more difficult to find a job in times of crisis and keeps the wages low in times of growth. It is thus easy to blame the unemployment and stagnant wages on them, although the root causes may lie elsewhere.
Our hosts in Wellfleet last week provided abundant and elegant breakfasts. Fresh fruits first, of course. I am not a fruit fan, but with a good dollop of Trader Joe's Lemon Curd I can enjoy them.
They provided fruit forks and knives with the beautifully-presented fruit course. Civilized and quite effective tools for all fruits and berries. Yes, old-fashioned. We need some.
With decent cutlery and Lemon Curd, I may yet become fruit-tolerant. Is fruit "healthy"? Not at all. It's really just nature's dessert.
Just back from spiritually-necessary annual pilgrimage to the Cape and Wellfleet, MA. Pics and tips for Wellfleet-lovers when I organize a travelogue post or two.
Besides doing everything else outdoors (swimming in Bay, harbor, several ponds, body-surfing in ocean with seals and sharks, taking a 2 1/2 hour hike which few know about, etc.), we kayaked twice daily - at dawn and before or after supper - thanks to Jack's. Jack will deliver and pick-up, no matter where. Using Youtube instructions, and encountering some tough sledding in southern New England salt waters, and the Hudson River, and last week on Nauset, we have been forced to improve our kayaking technique for a couple of years. "Use your core, not your arms!" God gave us our transverse abdominis for a reason. Having owned lots of boats of many sorts during my life, my craft of choice right now is the body-powered kayak.
Portrait of my handsome feet on Higgin's Pond, 7:30 am this morning. Ospreys overhead, Great Blue Herons all about, trout jumpin'. Water lilies in late bloom. Nice. No person there except me and Mrs. BD.
I'll do an informal series on some interesting exercises for functional (as opposed to body-building) improvement. I think we basically covered serious cardio a week or two ago, and we covered The Planks too.
No need to cover the big, essential resistance ones: Dead lift, bench press, dumbell press, barbell squat, pull-ups, push-ups.
I categorize exercises in three rough categories: Resistance, Cardio, and Mixed Cardio/Resistance. My favorite group is the latter of those 3. Fitness Crossfit does lots of those too.
The Farmer's Walk is a full-body resistance exercise which is highly-functional. I do 2 sets maybe twice weekly. Head up, chest out, shoulders back, quick walk. Often grip and forearm strength is the weak link.
Anything that requires explosive power, athleticism, grip strength, overall limit strength and core strength will benefit from the farmer’s walk. So, basically, the farmer’s walk is the epitome of functional training for about anything.
Cabo is famous for the fishing, but we were out for meat as much as for sport and, as I mentioned, we are not really into hassling the big fish from the big boats anymore. Leave them fish alone!
We set out early with Carlos in his super-ponga to find "Sierra" - Sierra Mackeral (similar to the Atlantic Spanish Mackeral, but larger) - for dinner for ten invitees. We needed the meat but good sport is always the bonus.
I always say, "Huntin' and fishin' ain't shopping." It's a risk to invite people before catching the fish, but it's never failed for me. The Lord provideth the tortillas and the fishes. We caught 8 but really only needed 6, so had leftovers for breakfast. (We Yankees believe in fish for breakfast.)
Being lazy and on vacation, we brought our 8 cleaned and skinned mackeral over to Solomon's Landing on the marina to prepare it for us all for dinner six hours later. Since we supplied the fish, it wasn't a big expense except for the cocktails.
It was a good dinner party. Margueritas the size of bathtubs. Here was the result at 7 pm that evening -
First course: Sierra Ceviche - the best ceviche I have ever had in my life. Sierra is said to be the best fish in the world for ceviche, and I cannot dispute that. I could live on Sierra Ceviche and Margueritas:
After the dynamite ceviche, they brought platters of our Sierras cooked three ways - chef's choice: Fried with coconut, baked with capers, olives and peppers, and baked Rockefeller style (like Oysters Rockefeller) - all wonderful Mexican cooking:
Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes
'Twas on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dyed The azure flowers that blow; Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima, reclined, Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared; The fair round face, the snowy beard, The velvet of her paws, Her coat, that with the tortoise vies, Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, She saw: and purred applause.
Still had she gazed; but 'midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide, The Genii of the stream; Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue Thro' richest purple to the view Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw: A whisker first and then a claw, With many an ardent wish, She stretched in vain to reach the prize. What female heart can gold despise? What cat's averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent Again she stretched, again she bent, Nor knew the gulf between. (Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled) The slippery verge her feet beguiled, She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood She mewed to every watery god, Some speedy aid to send. No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirred; Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard. A favorite has no friend!
From hence, ye beauties, undeceived, Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved, And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wandering eyes And heedless hearts is lawful prize, Nor all, that glistens, gold.
A special smell in the air. Crickets and Katydid chorus. Locusts all done by now. Cooler nights. A perfect time of year to take a few days' break from my mornings links.
Image to celebrate Labor Day weekend, which seems to begin today 
A recommended book: 
Our hosts in Wellfleet last week provided abundant and elegant breakfasts. Fresh fruits first, of course. I am not a fruit fan, but with a good dollop of Trader Joe's Lemon Curd I can enjoy them.
Image stolen from 
My wife was addicted to Ashley Madison
