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    Good Bread

    It’s the evening of December 31, 2017.  ‘Round these parts it’s currently nine degrees below zero outside, but it’s toasty warm in the kitchen now that the bread’s done.  Smells heavenly … a good loaf.  Must admit to the addition of pineapple juice, butter, ginger and brown sugar to the proofed yeast and flour that gives it an official Hawaiian bent, but it’s a loaf just the same.  The man in the house says dinner is around the bend now that I’ve told him the kitchen is his; he makes a mean cast-iron steak and mushroom gravy. We’re going fancy with the asparagus, but it goes with what we want to eat this New Years Eve.

    The moon is a shy sliver away from full as it shows itself off just beyond our windows reach.  Everything is moonscape white as loving owners walk their dogs and headlights carry folks here and there below our four story view.  Life sparkles.  It always does … it’s just nice to notice now and then.

    Happy end of one year and beginning of another, folks.  It’s a calendar thing that matters not at all in the grand scheme of things, but gives us something to work with as we hope for improvement.  So in that vein - I wish you all good bread.

    Happy 2018!



    That all sounds delicious.
    Thank you for the good wishes and may 2018 be good for you.

    May the year to come

    find you and yours happily

    digesting the last ...

       Casting the staleness aside;

       awaiting the second rise.



    Hi Missy!

    I took a couple of weeks off.

    I got to see my pixies.

    My Precious was taken to the local library in the Twin Cities. She received her first library card.

    But the librarian told Mom that there was a contest for newbies.

    So Precious made a picture with ink about her experience in the library.

    And, amongst a bunch of other early wonders...

    Precious won the prize.

    Two free books at a local store.

    And....the powers that be turned that picture into a book mark.

    I have tech probs right now Missy.

    But I am sure that soon I might reproduce this wonder in some blog of my own,

    I feel gooooooooooood.

    I am attempting to escape hate.

    There are good things brewing.

    looking forward to your opining big picture after having some time off

    Hi AA!

    I am dumbstruck by this new Administration. What could I add?

    So I thought I could play with the ten labors of Heracles.

    A little satire? Even though I am attacking THE DON.

    And I will continue with that play.

    But I have been thinking about our prisons; our food programs; our many programs that seem to work and not to work so well?

    There are capitalistic programs exceeding all expectations.

    There are solar and wind projects that are literally changing America; right now.

    California and a number of other states are working on drug laws and working on energy innovations.

    Oh well.

    I had a good Holiday and I hope you have experienced the same.

    the end


    Hey Dick, it was the 10 *Labradors* of Heracles - an unfortunate misprint in Homer's 1st edition, and well, it's been bruited over ever since.
    And since you're spending your time attacking THE DON, shouldn't you be asking why he's not being quiet as expected?

    Peracles, I think the issue involves blood sugar.

    The guy just never drank enough alcohol.

    So his blood sugar is down and he's down and the WH is down and geese have down and...

    Cocaine just cannot do the trick. You sniff a lot but your blood sugar and your testes are tested?


    Basically Peracles, I am losing my religion even though I love dogs; until they bite me or attempt to impregnate my cats...




    If your dogs are screwing your cats, excommunicate *them*, not you. You've done your ecclesiastical duty.

    Blood sugar doesn't matter for vampires - just make sure the platelet level is sufficient.

    You'll have to check your local jurisdiction for laws of intestacy, but testes can get testy with too much probing.



    Well I suppose folks like Trump love the blood of young virgins?

    But I was simply using METAPHOR?

    I have no idea right now who it was met with or for?

    I am confused but the Uniform Statutes of Intestacy state:



    Oh hell, I am going back to Heracles.

    Anyhow here is THE DON sniffing. With his small hands.

    I still believe that THE DONALD needs a beer and a snifter?

    Screw you both and your little dogs, too.  And/or the horses you rode in on ...  but, for the love of Mr. Ed, don't even entertain the idea of bringing a cat to the party UNLESS they're in the starring role.  Have you learned nothing from the #metoo movement?? 

    PS: I'm moving on to pizza dough - a pie awaits.  Hrrumph.

    Hmmm, are you a "battered" housewife? beginning to understand this passive aggression. Or as the girls say, "let's get this thing in the oven..." [turn double-entendre mode up to 11]


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