All Purls. No Swine.
O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us! It wad frae mony a blunder free us, An' foolish notion Ah! The sainted Rabbie Burns. Scotland's national poet. Romantic to the end. Socialist. Raconteur. A man who dropped his seed wherever he felt like it, upon whichever woman struck… Continue reading Burns Supper Night
So, today, Conservative women are supposed to be creaming their jeans over a post on American Greatness (several generations derived from all the other places it's appeared) in which a man, name of "Guy" (how great is that!) pretends that his wife has noticed that women's relationship with "The Pill" has somehow affected their (womanly)… Continue reading Oh. HaHaHa, Let’s Hear it for the Pill. Or Not.
“The Analytical Engine has no pretensions whatever to originate anything. It can do whatever we know how to order it to perform.”–Augusta Ada King, Countess of Lovelace Augusta Ada Byron (she was the poet’s only legitimate child) was born a little over two-hundred-six years ago, on December 10, 1815. She was a few weeks shy… Continue reading The Analytical Engine: “Dad” Edition
There aren't many iconic rock stars I recognize, let alone for whom I can identify a single "iconic" song. The list is endless, and includes such luminaries as Bruce Springsteen, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Guns N' Roses, Aerosmith (well done, Steven, if for nothing else than producing such a lovely Arwen), Prince, Lynard Skynard, Jimi… Continue reading RIP: Meat. Loaf.
Happy Eve of St. Agnes Day! The sun has come up, the earth is still turning, and life goes on in these United States. Today is, according to legend, the 1718th anniversary of the eve of the martyrdom of St. Agnes of Rome, patron saint of young girls and defender of the chaste. Brutally murdered… Continue reading “Lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon”: The Eve of St. Agnes
Well, it finally happened. Two years on, inexorably and inevitably, I caught the 'rona. It's hardly surprising, really, since I have been going about my business, carefully, but pretty much normally from the start, as have most of my family, my friends, my neighbors, and my own little corner of the world. I had both… Continue reading Omicron and Me
Where there’s life, there’s hope, and need of vittles.–JRR Tolkien The pathway to some of my favorite vittles became clearer today with the arrival of the first two seed catalogs of the year. The temperature is in the single digits (supposed to go down to 2°F tonight), and the wind’s blowing like a Force-8 gale.… Continue reading Sowing Seeds
https://youtu.be/dgHolwEkcoI I've always liked quiche as the focal point of a meal, and ever since I acquired, through various nefarious means, a small flock of chickens, and--even in the winter--a seemingly endless supply of eggs, it's become an even more useful staple of my culinary art. My basic recipe starts with something called the Keto… Continue reading Quiche Me Once, and Quiche Me Twice….
Yeah. For a couple of seasons, he was glorious. The three “B’s:” Ben, Brown, Bell. For some reason, the MSN report on the guy’s ignominious exit from the Tampa Bay Buccaneers (where’s he’s been much celebrated as a receiver for the GOAT), begins “Former Steelers WR Antonio Brown strips off uniform“….etc. etc. and so forth.… Continue reading Antonio Brown: Really?
Doormats are valuable objects, but they are not friends. Wise words, spoken by a fellow Ricochet member on a recent thread about friendship. They are words I think that Mr. Right would have agreed with. (He'd probably have appreciated much this individual has to say, just as I do myself). When talking about relationships, either… Continue reading The Test of True Friendship: Don’t Be a Doormat