In the olden days, this was the month to raise money back in the home district, take a junket, or just go to the beach. Some things do not change. I wish I was at the beach, though confess that the view of the pastures is pretty cool now that the hydrangea has been cut […]

The heat and humidity linger as September looms, but there was actually a hint of chill in the air when the roosters next door started to get going a little before five. I like it. There is no possible way to roll over and tap the rooster on the head and go back to sleep. […]

No one does cars like the Hoosiers, nor celebrates the astonishing contraptions that put us on the road to the elegance of the Cords and Auburns that invested the cornfields of the great heartland with an Art Deco elegance. A lot of folks think of Detroit as the Motor City. Maybe it was the buckle […]

I had a pretty good sleep here at Refuge Farm. It is quiet. No mob out front screaming anything. I am determined not to do anything that will get me doxxed…well, at least nothing I am doing currently. Apparently life is an open book now, no and since being accused is the same as being […]

It has cooled off a bit at Refuge Farm, and it is almost enough to make us miss the raisin and sultry heat of the mid-summer. Soon enough September will be on us, and we will miss it. There are some things we will not. That includes two troubled young men who ran amok in […]

Screen Shot 2019-07-31 at 11.21.55 AM.png I watched the debates last night as a matter of civic duty. The most impressive aspect for me was the restoration of the downtown Fox Theater, a moving picture palace of a different age. As a sometimes Detroit, I used to go by the place in the years after […]

I am at the farm, watching the House hearings on the Mueller report. I should have stayed in bed. On the other and more immediate hand, two buzzards were perched on the Panzer roof when I rose. I have to say a single round of 9mm discharged into the ground seemed to get their attention […]

Lord, another one of those weeks to which we seem addicted here in the sticky mire of The Swamp. It would make you tired if you had to dog-paddle. Oh, wait. That is what we do here. Copyright 2019 Vic Socotra www.vicsocotra.com

My bother was here for a delightful visit. He arrived by train, a sort of sepia-toned mode of transport, and he seems to like the farm, worked a bit on the truck, and we swapped old stories and memories, some good and others not. It culminated (I hope) the astonishing procession of grandkids and old […]

Nope, no explosives today, unless the buzzards encroach on the human jurisdictions of the farm. Maybe the Marine down the lane will blast some off later, as the dusk blends into the velvet darkness of this special summer day. I luxuriate in the memories of an epic trip bringing the Pepto-Bismol 1959 Rambler wagon to […]