(Pop artist Andy Warhol signs a can of Campell’s tomoato soup. The owner should act now- the shelf life of the can is finite, much like pop art itself. Photo New York Times.) I will not trouble you tales of mayonnaise this morning. The weather is too delightful to worry about the ingredients in a […]

  Sometimes these stories happen all by themselves, and I can honestly say I have little to do with it. This morning was one of those little epiphanies. I slept fitfully, and the night was deep and very quiet at the farm, and least until the rains swept and the impact of the drops resonated […]

  I had a good day Friday, puttering at this and that, and “worked from home” until the decision-point came about leaving the new residence and the hypnotically attractive diversion of the pool. I had already logged an hour of treading water, and though the ravaged of the tumult of travel and moving had me […]

(The Grayhound folks took over the old Union Market that failed against the rise of the corner supermarket. Funny, I used to work in the Bus Station on New York Avenue in DC, and now I have slept in one. Image Drury Inns and Suites.) Sorry, gentle readers, slept hard and late last night as […]

Raven would have been 90 today, and I pay homage to his memory. I think I blanked out his 98th last year- I was just learning how to walk again, and had other things on my mind, I think. So much has changed since he took his leave with Big Mama a year and a […]

I am waking in St. Louis, which is strange, but no stranger than the last week or so of morning waking with uncertainty of location, and the continuing news that the Bad Guys are going to try to smack us, somewhere, somehow. I have notes from the summer of 2001 that are eerily similar to […]

I am thumbing my nose at al Qaida on the Arabian Peninsula today, and defying their plans to interrupt my plans. Accordingly trusting my posterior to the tender ministrations of the TSA and a United Airlines regional subcontractor. I am confident in the multi-layered security at Dulles will preclude any interference with my travel plans. […]

(The new flag of the Culpeper Minutemen hangs limply below the National Ensign near the Big Ass Rock in the gravel circular drive at Refuge Farm. Photo Socotra.) I rose this morning at the farm, curiously refreshed, and on the brink of transitioning from One Thing to Another Thing. The move is done, or will […]

Forgive me, gentle readers. I have been remiss in contacting you the last few days. I have been quite distracted the last few days. Reggie, his twin sister Regina, Abdul and whatever that Romanian’s name was helped me out, big time, in relocating from Tunnel Eight to the new digs. I made twenty-five or more […]

Good times are coming. I read about it this morning. The wonks over at the Bureau of Economic Analysis fixed everything. I will get to that in a minute. I am packing today, freight elevator reserved for tomorrow. By nightfall on the first I hope to be moved, and the next chapter in this bizarre […]