The Burrow

Some things have not changed at all.   DJT is still trying to undermine our democracy, still behaving as if he is untethered from reality, still in charge of the nuclear codes.  I am neither more nor less frightened than I was last Sunday night, even having read the entire transcript between our President and Georgia's Secretary of State . I'm still delighted by those who wonder about the political future of a man I am certain is going to prison.  I still wonder what Javanka are telling their children about Grandfather, what Baron hears about Daddy at school, and what Kimberly Guilfoyle is doing on anybody's radar. Mark Kelly and Gabby Giffords continue to inspire, ten years after our lives collided.  My hip hurts about the same as it did a year ago, but I'm much more flexible and spry, able to be on my feet for more hours before I collapse in a heap. Tucson, although too far from the world's sweetest grandchildren, is still the perfect place for our aging and a...

That's my resolution for 2013, and I'm sticking to it.   Just saying it out loud makes me smile.  Putting it into action makes me smile.  Thinking about it makes me smile.  I've not even begun the new year and I'm happy already.  I think this one may be a keeper.  In the past, I have considered the concept of patience  and I have embraced radiant health.   The former moderated my waiting-in-line behavior, the latter gave me a year without illness or injury.  The next year, in a perforated state, I was forced to do more than consider a concept and avoid the flu - I was the picture of enforced inactivity, stuck in a holding pattern with nothing to do except visualize my bones knitting together. I'm not sure they count as resolutions when there is no choice involved. I re-read the last post of 2011 ; I've certainly come a long way.  I am not mired in the past, though I am still dealing with the consequences.  I am ...

This is the week I throw out my old spices. I'm not a good enough cook to use anything but the freshest ingredients; I need all the help I can get. This is also the week that I move the "wear me or toss me in here" bag into my closet. White shirts with ring-around-the-collar are always the first inhabitants. As soon as I put away the last of the holiday decorations I'll give the potting shed its annual cleansing. January may be long and dark and c-c-c-cold in the mornings but it's time for my Boris Badenov imitation -- out with the bad..... in with the good. I made my first serious New Year's Resolution in graduate school in 1974. In truth, it was more of an assignment that I transformed into a resolution. Behaviorism - think B. F. Skinner rewarding pigeons for appropriate pecking - was all the rage and we were a class of skeptics until the professor had us create a personal program to change one of our own unwanted behaviors. I will not bite my nai...