I’m not the first person to notice  or comment on this, but  60 to 70 percent of Americans have been going thru the 5 Stages Of Grief after the election of, well, you know who.

A few are still in Stage One, Denial. A lot are still in Stage Two, Anger. Most still seem to be stuck in Stage Three, Bargaining. Particularly the press. “Pivoting” and becoming “Presidential” are daily talking points.

Many have reached Stage Four, Depression. A few have made it to Stage Five, Acceptance.  Now as any grief counselor will tell you, people go through these stages at different times and some go through some stages but not all.  For example, I’ve gone through the first four but I can’t get to the fifth. Unless disgust counts as acceptance.

But here’s the thing.

No matter what stage of grief you are currently in, or whether you will go through all of them or just a few …



THIS YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, what are we going to do about it?

We don’t have a lot of options, but one of our best options is the hope that he does nothing.

By which I mean NOTHING.

Nothing that’s Presidential, like “Running the Country” kind of stuff. Believe it or not, the government would survive.  If you’ve ever worked for a large corporation you know that if the CEO goes on vacation for a month the company still runs just fine. Sometimes even better.

The US government is a huge company and like any giant ship of state, it has a lot of inertia.

Our Ship of State (

Most government workers have worked there for decades. Their bosses come and go every four years, but they stay. They know what to do. George W Bush took 407 days of vacation during his two terms. That is one year, one month and 12 days of vacation for an 8-year job.  Looking back, would it have been so bad if he had taken even more time off?

So the problem becomes how do we prevent the new President from doing any “Running the Country” kind of stuff? In this case I don’t think it will be too hard. We, the American People need to KEEP HIM BUSY!

Think about it. For the first time ever, because of Twitter, a single individual can directly interact with the President of the United States and actually get his attention! He responds with amazing consistency. He must fight back over any “Mean Tweet”. “Mean Tweets” have occupied him from a few days to more than a week or so at a time.

So, we have to come up with “Mean Tweets.” Tweets that will cause him to retaliate.

Here’s an example:

@HeyLookOverHere! Hey Mister President! Why are your feet so small?! Why is nobody talking? Has the cover-up already started? SAD! #TinyPedaledPOTUS  #TeenyFeetInChief #TenLittleTinyPiggies

I checked this out on and it’s actually true!

There’s been  lots of talk and jokes made about the size of the New Commander In Chief’s hands.  But why has nobody noticed or mentioned his feet?  Turns out, they’re not that big! Proportional to the rest of his body, his feet are tiny!  According to the scales and tables set up by the “American Association of Podiatry Advisory and Measurements Board,” the President-elect’s feet are “… between 20 and 28 percent smaller than they should be for a person of his height.”

And people are starting to notice. People are saying they’ve heard that he buys shoes that are too big and stuffs them with paper ripped from the Wall Street Journal.

That should occupy him for a day or two. We have to all help by re-tweeting each week’s “Mean Tweet”. The more people that re-tweet a “Mean Tweet,” the more the President will notice. He pays close attention to this stuff!

It’s even better if the press picks up the “Mean Tweet”. That almost guarantees a rapid response from the Oval Office.

We all must work together! Organize! Come up with a schedule!! That’s the most important part. A schedule! We have  to keep him busy for four years.

But we’re Americans! We can do it!

We don’t have to stop at Twitter. Get him involved with Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Snapchat,

My Space!  (OK that last one’s a joke for the old folks. The ones older than 20)

This is how the next four years have to go.

CHIEF OF STAFF:  Sir, the Ambassador from (fill in the blank) is here.

PRESIDENT: Leave me alone! I’m trying to pick the right default Instagram filter for all pictures of me!

So again:  It’s a crazy plan, but it just might work!! And remember, any article or email or post you receive that starts with the statement: “I checked this on and it’s true”  … ISN’T!

I obviously made up the story about his feet. But that’s no reason not to re-tweet it. Twitter has been his secret weapon and he’s been using it well. It can also be his kryptonite.

On a separate note, I’m sort of proud that I could write this whole blog without once actually typing the name Donald Trump.




It’s snowing. Pretty hard. We’ve been getting updates in clumps from the National Weather Service. Two or three at a time, often with a different prediction and forecast on each.


They really have no idea whether we are getting a little bit or a lot. Since we’ve already gotten a little bit, I would suspect that we are getting anything from “a decent amount” to “a lot.” These are actual calculable amounts in this part of the word.

Language Lessons

A dusting is less than two inches and is ignored. It’s just there like powdered sugar on top of a cake. Decorative and non-caloric. Real New Englanders always refer to this kind of snow as “Just a dusting.” Alternative phrasing can include “merely a dusting” and “Pshaw, barely a dusting.” Pshaw is optional. However, you must include at least a trace of scorn in your tone of voice.

Out my front door
Out my front door

“Some snow” is more than three inches, but less than ten.” It means you will probably have to shovel it or plow it lest it turn to ice. The snow isn’t a big deal, but the ice? That’s another issue. This is an amount of snow that requires you wear boots. A dusting is worthy only of sneakers.

“We getting some snow,” announces anything more than 8 inches, but not a “big one.” Amounts may vary and occasionally can reach depths of a foot or more. Thus it could be explained as “We got some snow last night, ” or “We got some snow last night ,” or “That was some snow we got last night.” But everyone understands it was not a blizzard.

Front forty, snow falling
Front forty, snow falling

Blizzards are not rare. We’ve gotten as many as three in a week and I’m talking about just two-years ago. That always means a lot of snow accompanied by below-freezing temperatures, with strong winds and drifting. Predictions of oncoming blizzards are generally ignored by everyone for the first four or five days of warnings because “those weather people never get it right.” This is followed by complete panic as everyone piles into their SUVs and races to the store to clear the shelves of anything edible and as much beer as possible. Beer will get you through. It’s not New England’s official motto, but it could be.


People act as if they have never seen snow before, much less a blizzard.  After they settle down, it’s time to drink that beer, glug the hot chocolate, and make a lot of snow jokes while hoping you don’t lose power. Losing power is not a good thing in an area where we all have wells. Without power, we not only have no heat (oil burners ignite using electricity, don’t you know), but no water, either. We do not usually lose power around here, but it could happen.


Today, however, we are just getting some snow. We have plenty of food in the house. We have snow shovels. We have an SUV. We have boots and gloves and a wood stove if things get really dicey … but unfortunately, no wood to burn. Oops.

I guess winter is here, huh?

UPDATE: Now they are saying 12 to 18 inches and the wind is picking up. But maybe that’s just on the Cape and the coast?



From Romeo and Juliet

Act II. Scene II.

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes 
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

Irish Signs
At a crossroad in Connemara, Ireland. September 1990

At a crossroads in Connemara, Ireland in September 1990, a newly married couple (us) was trying to navigate from wherever we had been the previous day (Sligo maybe?) southward. The map was in English. The signs were all in Irish. The bullet holes in the sign are probably comments and opinions from others, like us, hopelessly lost and realizing there was no help forthcoming.

What’s in a name? A rose by any other might smell as sweet … but a road by any other may point us in the wrong direction and end us up on a dark, dirt road with no way to turn around. Or, in other words, a road by any other name is probably the wrong road.

Just saying.

I participate in WordPress' Weekly Photo Challenge 2017
I participate in WordPress’ Weekly Photo Challenge 2017


We’ve had a run of gray, wet days. For Garry and I, that means we take a lot of medication that’s supposed to tell our arthritic bodies to shut up and stop complaining. Mostly, it doesn’t work very well, so these are slow-moving days.

We are listening to an audiobook by day, and deeply absorbed in the heart of post-Victorian British crime stories as the evening draws on. The dogs? They beg for whatever they think they have a chance of scoring … which is anything and everything that might be construed as edible … and sleeping. They are very good at both.

The mid morning rest. It will be followed by the early afternoon rest, segue into the mid-afternoon rest. Which will be interrupted by DINNER, the central event of the every day.
The mid morning rest. It will be followed by the early afternoon rest, segue into the mid-afternoon rest. Which will be interrupted by DINNER, the central event of the every day.
Gibbs looks thoughtful. He is thinking about lying down and taking a nap, so rudely interrupted by that Person With the Camera.
Gibbs looks thoughtful. He is thinking about lying down and taking a nap, so rudely interrupted by that Person With the Camera.
This is Bonnie's favorite daytime place. She can sleep, occasionally opening an eye to catch an overview of her domain.
This is Bonnie’s favorite daytime place. She can sleep, occasionally opening an eye to catch an overview of her domain.
Still hoping I'll go away and take the camera with me.
Still hoping I’ll go away and take the camera with me.