October 5th, 2005


big whoop

Happy Birthday to me. I'm 52 today; so now, I guess you can say I'm finally playing with a full deck.

Don't expect anything fun or magical today. Got a birthday card yesterday from a parishioner who always remembers occasions (Thanks, Helene). My aunt Clarice e-mailed me with best wishes. I might expect another card or two, but that's as much hoopla as we have time and energy for.

This Sunday afternoon, some old friends are coming over to Wilderstead. We'll be burning some brush and toasting the good old days together. Sort of a belated birthday party, I guess. Think I'll stay out in the woods that night.

For now, I am left with questions:
Where are the snows of yesteryear?
Si man i yulma nin enquantuva?
What am I doing up at this ungodly hour?
beats working

New pics

LJ keeps updating its photo management. That's good, I guess, but it makes for a steeper learning curve. (Hold still, dammit!)

Meanwhile, here are some new pix.

In the Wilderstead gallery, there are a couple from our latest gathering out yonder.


And there's a new portrait of now-more-handsome-than-cute Cuthbert, too.

speed limit

Lawsy murphy, Mr. President!

Whether or not one supports Harriet Miers for the Supreme Court, her choice was a politically bizarre move for the President.

One wonders if the Bushes get tired of being responsible all the time, and so sooner or later they just phone in a decision or think that if the boys in the back room vetted it, it'll be all right.

I remember in '92, trudging to the polls. My choices were: GHW Bush, who had been out to lunch and letting John Sununu run things for much of the previous year (yuck); the slimy Bill Clinton, not yet up to his (deleted) in scandal, but still, obviously awful; and the loony Ross Perot. I held my nose and voted for GHW Bush. On my way home, I said, "A dirtier day's work I never did in my life."

Now, I like the elder Bush. I like W. But even if Miers turns out to be rock-solid adorable as a Justice, this move on his part is like showing up for a date and asking her father if he has any spare condoms. One is less outraged than simply dumbfounded at the sheer, brazen stupidity of it.