It is early August and I am rode hard and put away wet, which is actually part of the paradox of life. I can sim vigorously for an hour and then barely limp back to my condo. Irritating. And worse, the pool will start to shut down Labor Day weekend with no week day swims and only two weekends thereafter (with American lifeguards, an inferior brand to our sturdy Poles). And Dad’s birthday, though he is gone.
Chicago’s very bad weekend? When I still lived in Michigan I think we tallied 700 homicides. I still have a chip on my shoulder about what happened to the Motor City when Chicago lived, but maybe it is the same thing, just slower.
Sanctions against Iran? Seems to be the news this morning. Good. I wonder if it is sultry in Tehran? I don’t always support regime change, but will make an exception for the Mullahs.
Consequently, in this transitional month, I am attuned to the coming change in season. I dread losing the exercise time, but have some menus I want to try once the wind turns chilly. Which naturally includes a big batch of chili, slow-cooked brisket and casseroles.
Refuge Farm beckons with Fall. I have three owl decoys in the trunk of the Panzer…next project.
They are life-sized with eyes that light up to combat the presence of the dread turkey buzzards that shit all over my deck. The birds mate for life and have a predeliction for a nesting locale. I don’t have enough time to reliably outlive them.
Regrettably they have chosen my place to roost, but oh well. I will try artificial owls with LED eyes and sporadic gunfire from the deck and see how it goes. I have no idea if they are Dems or GOP..
Here by the Big Brown River in Arlington, Congress is out of town…that is why I titled a recent Swamp Postcard “dog days” since I like dogs, and took the news of the demise of Biscuit The Wonder Spaniel next door at the farm pretty hard. She was a good dog…which reminds me to collect the ashes of Cruz, the former marital dog, and the larger urn in which my remains will spend some time and see if I can get us both into Arlington. I have pals in the mortuary business who have sworn to help me out.
So, I just read a nice account that excoriated some people we know about the only glowing ember here in town during Beach Month: Bob Mueller’s happy expedition in The Swamp. I think I have said it before, and have the sequence down. Brennan and the British GCHQ, the Clinton campaign, Steele, FusionGPS, the odious Ohr couple, that weasel Strzok and his lawyer paramour Page, the bogus FISA application, Rosenstein, Comey and Mueller himself.
I have never seen anything like it, and am ashamed for the conduct of our IC and DoJ and even the career that I thoroughly enjoyed and thought honorable. Apparently not. Remember, I watched the Watergate hearings with Pop, a WWI vet, and I didn’t think anything could top it.
We have.
Here is one of those pivot points. You may have seen the story this morning. There is a convicted MS-13 cell leader suing the penal system because he is in a cell 23 hours a day. It is inhumane, his lawyers say, pretty much like the way they are treating un-convicted Paul Manafort.
I am no Manafort partisan. He is as much a Swamp creature as they come, after all. But goodness. This is a demonstration of a government out of control, and would come after any of us in a heartbeat if they saw a reason to do it.
Oh well. Dog Days.
I think you have noticed that I have deliberately lowered my public persona. I don’t trust anything or anyone any more. Except at the Class Six store over at Fort Myer.
Man, is life strange, or what? Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here…..
Vic
