Reality Based Community

Life in the Empire

We don't need another / a new discussion to prove it.

It is as it is.

Let this "fred" (discussion thread) live under the theme .......

long live this family

brothers, sisters, brethern, dogs, cats and birds, ants and flees, water and air and gas and Clare and Jim and him and the window Simm (??) and you and me and he and she and we and them and us and puss (???) and fish and the dish (it's on) and paper and pen.

Yip.

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there's a big gap where the picture should be and the link doesn't work, eek.  What am I going out to do now?! 

I could join the dog in the sunshine and watch the clouds go by.  Or confront the cluttered tabletops, spilling silk threads and faces of saints and angels.

Standing and staring into space still goes down well here, smoking my pipe and drinking tea, watching the buds swell, rivetting.  Truly rivetting.

Munching pumpkin seeds and listening to the distant cries of sportsmen on the wind.

The Conservative Woman has a good article this morning https://www.conservativewoman.co.uk/at-last-a-brave-politician-tell...

The truth is the Select Committee on Covid-19 has been running a protection racket for the pharmaceutical industry...   

Yep.  And let's see if this link works:  https://waldopaper.wordpress.com/2022/04/02/bullwhip-effect/    

It's about the supply chain of course.  Plus a whole month of Ideology.  

Then there's embedding a video from the UK:   

The fattest flies learn to land on the flyswatter handle.  

Where the hell is BO??  Hello-0 0 0 ooo.  Anybody HERE?

Our lingering beliefs in the privacy of romance now belong to the previous century. Our expectations of sexual privacy and romantic life in general are rooted in an older socioeconomic world — but we find ourselves now entering middle age in the precarious post-worker, post-family world that is native to Gen Z and their intimacy styles. Although it may be quite painful, older millennials must recognize that the conditions for intimacy with which we came of age have eroded.

Hello Waldo.  The mist has risen in the valley and the birds are trilling in delicious abandon.

Hiya Mouse!  HERE are the droppings from the August Cage Bottom.  How are things in Old Blighty?    

Dear Old Blighty.

The cold has snickered into my spine.  The remedies require quilting of a beautiful kind and tying that glowing scrap of silk at the neck as did my dead darling Irishman, watching still on the bench in the garden, all his flaws fallen away in memory, so strong the sense of that laughter of his when things got serious; yet it was 20 years ago.

https://youtu.be/ZBFvLBpeY1A

September Birdcage.  Old Whitey.  Back in de swamp... where the weather is cold & etc.   

As we grow old we become dappled like my golden fir tree at the bottom of the garden, down the hill, letting in light through the gaps where the young tips grow and the pattern breaks open with the weight and complexity of itself, and is full of birds singing this Christmas morning.

Mean Moon here. Mid Feb in the Midwest rusty bible US$ is now US# and my landlady wants to throw me out in 30 days      

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