The halo, as seen in news pics of politicos, has been commented upon in these pages before. This would appear to be the post-modern culmination of the art.


I am loving this rain. Supposedly we’re in for 23 mph winds later – man, I hope so. The air is still not clean from the heat wave this weekend.


Remarkable. It’s barely 55 degrees Fahrenheit and raining under cloudy skies. This installment of the two-week summers looks closed.


SOL INVICTUS has banish’d FALSE WINTER at long last.


I mean, I’m ready for the sun and all but my mist-clad veins prefer the wan light which heats with gentility and manner, in opposition to the wanton, savage rage of the flaming orb currently wilting plants to the far-flung corners of my very yard. Well, this heat can’t last, right?


RIP, George Carlin.

I originally constructed this post with no content but the Words proper. Then I thought of the 69 year old I am corresponding with concerning genealogy who complimented me on my website. So I’ll wait a while.

On the other hand, Mr. Carlin was 71 when he died.


OK, in the past ten minutes, half-an-inch of snow has accumulated, and if anything, it’s snowing harder.

Photo 041808 012

Photo 041808 009


Obfuscatory elisions

Certain of my esteemed readership have decried with confternation a recent addition to this publication, viz. In particular the emotive and affected tone of urgenfy, in combination with a most genteel lack of germane or illuminating detailf, has raised alarums in the heartf of certain more senfitive personf among the readerfhip.

Thus, a clarification: neither illnefs nor emergenfy has afflicted the persons of thif houfe, or indeed thif family. A life-event conferning a friend fimply caught me unawaref.

The editorf of this publication regret any public difcommodation or diforder prompted by our refent reportagef.