Legal finished sealing up a busy week of topics Saturday afternoon. The war is big, of course, and it has now entered its third week with American heavy bombers reportedly able to roam at will in the skies over Iran. Civilians have been warned by both sides to stay indoors.
That has produced some interesting new evolutions in warfare. In some places people can sit in their living rooms, set down the remote, pick up a smartphone and dial up an airstrike on the young men with rifles down the street.

Meanwhile here, we are enjoying something that feels like peace, though we have been warned to keep our heads on a swivel.

Zeke was the duty attorney this week. He left the conference room late Saturday with a final round of finger-wagging about sensitive topics we should avoid if we want to keep the Chairman out of trouble.

That left Sunday morning slightly in the lurch.

We had our usual “Best Headline of the Morning” contest with the three Boomers. Their entry:

“Bomber caught on camera at a Detroit-area Explosives Store.”

The original headline said fireworks store, but the place apparently had supermarket push carts and shelves stacked high with items designed to make a respectable amount of noise.

There is standing guidance not to do Google research about such things. If the building’s internet protocol address is caught searching for information about explosives or related topics, it might attract the wrong kind of digital attention.

We are now — all of us — in a position where asking simple questions can get you flagged for trouble.

That led to a discussion about the lunar calendar. We had all been admiring the recent Worm Moon, which lit up the sky this month. Irish tradition associates it with the serpents stirring beneath the earth as spring begins to wake the ground. Islamic tradition holds this cycle sacred as it marks the final stretch of Ramadan.

There is also a House rule about discussing the three Great Faiths.

Which naturally brought us back to the problem of what we could safely talk about on a Sunday morning.

Before Zeke left for the weekend, we had asked him whether groceries might be a safe topic.

He shrugged, winked at Holly, and bounced out the door.

Holly might have blushed a little, but she was all business.

“We have some adjustments coming,” she said. “The new freezer arrives soon. Dee needs locker space for the cooking she plans to do this spring.”

Section Leader Miles was expansive after a good night’s sleep and a mostly clear dawn.

“I understand she may even get a chance to try some experimental retail in that empty office space down by the lobby,” he said. “As long as she keeps some sausage rolls available to go with the bagels.”

Right on cue, Dee swept into the room.

“I think people are going straight to the local feedlots,” she said. “They buy the beef and send it to the processors. The meat is way better. No dye, none of the things you find in the grocery store.”

A half-beef through C-Squared or Shawneeswan Farms down by the old farm runs between $2,200 and $2,400, cut, wrapped and ready to go.

The room considered the idea.

Splash seemed intrigued by the possibility of turning bulk food processing into something halfway between practical sustenance and a modest commercial venture.

Rocket leaned back and took a thoughtful pull from the vaporizer he has been using since he quit smoking.

“A 400-pound carcass yields about 200 pounds of meat,” he said. “That works out to a little under nine dollars a pound across all cuts. And we eat better.”

Vic arrived at that moment, still slightly damp from the shower.

“Can someone tell me which end of the food pyramid is up this morning?”

Miles clicked the remote and the screen lit up.

“We’ve already got war, religion and groceries on the agenda,” he said. “This should keep Legal happy.”

Copyright 2026 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com