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.
Boxing Day is the traditional day to be generous to all those who help us during the year. We give $ to the garbage man, the mailman, the cleaning gals, and of course to my 4:45 AM regular Dunkin guy who works the night shift at my 24-hr Dunkin. These folks appreciate being shown our appreciation.
The docs just get fruit baskets. They are health nuts, believe in eating fruits and nuts. I do not, much, although I will go for a pear or an apple pie.
I hope our readers had a blessed Christmas or a happy Hannukah. The BD clan did have a classic Yankeeland one. Life in America: Perfect candlelight service about Grace and Truth, an early Christmas morning family workout at the gym, scrambled eggs with salmon (and pannetone of course - very Yankee), then the girls entertained us with Christmas carol duets with one's new guitar and the other's new keyboard for her apartment in NYC. Gosh, I love family music no matter how imperfect. One of my daughters sings like an angel, the other like a Screech Owl. Son can't sing a lick and neither can I.
Then a "hike" to the countryside, and, finally home, the kids made us filet with roasted sweet potatoes and sauteed brussel sprouts while my father-in-law dozed by the fire with a glass of rare 25 year-old single malt whiskey which tastes like candy. They cleaned up everything too. Always do.
Daughter was still practicing a Mendelssohn piece when I retired for the evening, banging away by a merry fire with an assortment of 4-letter words. This morning was a heavy weights day, so I had to be rested and ready. She's a Mendelssohn gal, I'm a Schubert guy but Mendelssohn second. I want my guitar daughter to work on country blues, but kids do what they will do. They have their own minds and directions...for better or worse.
We had a special event last night with dinner with friends and the Messiah at Carnegie Hall - Musica Sacra. Life doesn't get better than that. Did not doze off once. Even the contralto was good. People listen so seriously though, like art music. It's a serious Easter piece, serious and joyful, but it's entertainment above all. I know the music well enough to conduct it, but Handel's other oratorios are just as winning.
To add to the jollity are the cheerful crowds in midtown. These people, opposite the Tree, are watching the stunning light show on the walls of Saks. Literally nobody had shopping bags - people just loving the vitality and fun. Secular or religious, it's not about shopping. Love this place for vitality, the country for serenity and manual labor.
'Twas a late night for us - but your Editor made it to the gym this morning before work. Like y'all did.
He and his cousin Arthur McBride had an exciting Christmas Day walk. Dylan did a good cover of this Irish song but it's not on youtube. This is much better anyway.
If you're a Christian, when do you go to church on Christmas week?
It comes up because we "went to church" this morning with my father-in-law. We did indeed go, but they had canceled the early service today so we went to the diner instead and gave the waitress a big Christmas tip. We missed the memo. Mrs. BD and her Dad had 2 eggs benedicts; I had scrambled eggs and bacon.
When I was growing up (Congregationalist), we would often go on Christmas morning, sometimes to the candlelight service on Christmas Eve. Doing both is a real job for pastors, but they signed up for it. Our Congo church now only does Christmas Eve - 3 services. Pastor has a bunch of young kids.
I believe Roman Catholics still do a midnight Mass and a Christmas Day Mass.
A note at our favorite diner made it clear that they have planned a special Christmas Day meal, all day. That's really nice, especially for lonely people. Sweet friendly people work there. Greeks, mostly.
He is back to feeding on the sparrows at my bird feeder. Quite a sight to see him trying to swoop in low under the radar from his perch, then chasing a bird through the bushes with much thrashing around.
Most of his attacks fail, but clearly enough succeed to keep him around. I sometimes term my bird-feeder a Sharpie-feeding station. Somebody should call PETA, because if I did these sorts of things to little songbirds, I'd end up in jail.
People over 35 tend to prefer experiences over material stuff unless it's a fun new sports car. A few ideas:
- A rocky Mountain or European guided hiking trip. All sorts of good ones for all levels of fitness on the internet.
- A charitable donation to something good, in their name.
- 7 weeks of 3 day/week sessions with a trainer at a local gym. That's enough time to get the fundamentals of calis and weights, so the spouse can do it on his or her own daily, afterwards. Make sure trainer knows enough about nutrition to handle either muscle-toning or fat loss/weight gain, and is not a musclehead. A skinny friend gained 13 rock-hard lbs from lifting over 10 months.
- Tickets for the NYC Ballet always makes the female spouse happy. Happy wife, happy life. If remote, grab a hotel room. Fun. Just not the darn Nutcracker.
- A firearms class of any sort, whether for handgun permit, clays, whatever. Good fun. Guns are fun for guys and gals. My girls get a kick out of shooting (but this year they need/want more musical instruments). I heartily approve of home-made music. Ability without talent is good enough to make a house a home. Mrs. BD and my daughters have ability. My son, not so much it seems, to his sorrow. Vocally, all of us are zeros but that's what instruments are for. Just takes brains.
- Give a gift of a year of Maggie's Farm. It's free, all it takes is the gift of a link to us.
1:18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.
1:19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.
1:20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.
1:21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins."
1:22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
1:23 "Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel," which means, "God is with us."
1:24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife,
1:25 but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus
Make the wealthy poorer - statistical problem solved. If you have more than one house, let the gummint take the others. Then your IRA. Why not, if equality is sacred?
In the history of politics, there is no precedent for the media’s entire focus to be on undoing the last presidential election.
True, the left has wanted to impeach every Republican president, but at least they used to wait a decent interval between the inauguration and concocting some preposterous “impeachable offense.”
People capable of feeling shame would not have immediately followed up the Russiagate hoax fiasco with another transparently phony—and in “substance” nearly identical—attempt to remove President Trump from office, overturn the 2016 election, and shower deplorable-Americans with contempt and hatred. But our ruling elites have no shame.
That is not to say, however, that they are entirely cynical. The means by which they’ve so far tried to crush the Trump presidency may be nasty and illegitimate, but our overlords are 100% convinced of the righteousness of their cause, and of themselves. Hence they do not even need recourse to the cliché that the ends justify the means. The means are good because the end is sacred; they cannot countenance even the thought that the means might be suspect or (ahem) trumped up.
The Swedes are a coldhearted people. When a 15-year-old boy was gunned down in a busy square in Malmo recently, a photograph showed that the townspeople had placed only seventeen candles and seven bouquets of flowers on the site where he had fallen. If the murder had happened in Britain, the ground on which the young victim had been shot would have been covered for yards around in candles, flowers, and teddy bears. In Sweden, by contrast, there was not a teddy bear to be seen.
11:2 When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples
11:3 and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?"
11:4 Jesus answered them, "Go and tell John what you hear and see:
11:5 the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.
11:6 And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me."
11:7 As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: "What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind?
11:8 What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces.
11:9 What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet.
11:10 This is the one about whom it is written, 'See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.'
11:11 Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.
From a too-fancy party last night: "Guess what, Bird Dog, I have an announcement for ya."
"OK, I am listening."
"I've gone vegetarian."
"That's cool," I said. "You are fitting in exactly to the joke about vegetarians telling everybody. But why?"
"Mostly to feel morally superior to other people like you, secondarily for my triglycerides."
Excellent response. I love our friends. So lucky to have them all, especially at Christmastime. I didn't bother correcting him on his medical ignorance, because cheerful friends don't correct people at Christmas parties.
The majestic American Chestnut, like the Elm, died off to various blights in the past century. You can still see the slowly decaying rust-colored Chestnut carcasses on woodland hikes.
The Chestnut was one of the basic trees of the northern USA climax forest, along with oak, beech, maple, walnut. Lots of good eats for wildlife.
When you buy those delicious roasted chestnuts on NYC streets, they are imported European chestnuts. A different, but related, species. I have planted a few Asian Chestnut hybrids, but man do they grow slowly. As they say, the best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago.
A handful of American Chestnuts have escaped the blight thus far. In Cape Cod.
As I’ve often said, conservatives are like doctors. Ours is a noble but tragic business. We’re trying to conserve a living thing: American liberty. And like all living things, liberty will one day die. But not today.
" CREATING THE NEW IGNORANCE”:
Microsoft Removes Santa Hat Icon
If you're a Christian, when do you go to church on Christmas week?
He is back to feeding on the sparrows at my bird feeder. Quite a sight to see him trying to swoop in low under the radar from his perch, then chasing a bird through the bushes with much thrashing around. 
People over 35 tend to prefer experiences over material stuff unless it's a fun new sports car. A few ideas:
A traditional, festive punch for holiday season and for winter days:
Lots more images from Liberty Arms 
Photo of holly on ice. We had a nice minor ice storm the other day 
Image via 
From a too-fancy party last night: "Guess what, Bird Dog, I have an announcement for ya." 
The majestic American Chestnut, like the Elm, died off to various blights in the past century. You can still see the slowly decaying rust-colored Chestnut carcasses on woodland hikes.
WSJ: