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.
04:45 and you are already at Dunkin' D? Sheesh, the only time I get up that early is in June when the sun comes up in that general time zone.
Glad to be retired. Even in the peak years when I commuted into DC I seldom had to leave earlier than 05:30.
There are commuting cultures, to my experience. After a time, you recognize other drivers or at least their cars. A time shift of even five minutes can result in a different paradigm.
But, the aholes always seem to be out there, tailgating, lane drifting, shaving, putting on makeup, on the phone, cutting other drivers off, some use turn signals, others don't.
You learn to pick up on very slight subtleties, the movement of a drivers head, their posture, and such, and learn to predict who is running late, the stress level and the ever present frustration that goes into "getting there".