"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter." —Mark Twain
Our other children
My motorcycle trip threw me off my blogging schedule. Hey, I’m looking for something to blame … something other than myself, that is … and the motorcycle trip is handy. Speaking of motorcycle trips, I amused myself by going on a short (less than 100 miles) ride this morning, heading down to the Triple T […]
Nancy Nall on today’s earthquake in Japan: “I’m touched by the grocery-store employees whose first impulse is to try to protect the stock from falling off the shelves. We give our lives to our jobs and we take pride in even the smallest ones. We deserve a few benefits in the bargain, Gov. Walker, you […]
I’ve never liked entrapment. Not when the police do it, not when civilians do it. Not when the right does it, not when the left does it. I particularly don’t like it when people are tricked into voicing their personal, non-job-related opinions on things, then lose their jobs as a result. But you know what […]
Last month, in the wake of the Tucson shootings, I joined a chorus of bloggers commenting on what many saw as a connection … not necessarily causal but closely related … between calls to violence from the right and the spate of politically- and ideologically-motivated shootings we’ve seen in our country over the past two […]
Earlier today, as Schatzi and I emerged from the house for our morning constitutional, a raven lifted off from a palo verde tree across the street. It’s a windy day here in Tucson, so the raven was able to turn into the wind and hover, holding position a few feet away and slightly above us. […]
I make a dish called pasta puttanesca; literally, “whore’s spaghetti.” The sauce is made of olive oil, garlic, anchovies, chopped tomatoes, capers, basil, and perhaps a few olives, tossed into pasta. Last night, since I was about to sit down to watch President Obama deliver the annual State of the Union address to an assembly […]
. . . and other things. I’ve been on my hands and knees in the back yard, pulling weeds. I’m reluctant to spray because the dog spends a lot of time out there. When it comes to the front yard, where the dog is not allowed, it’s going to be chemical warfare all the way. […]
I laid a 3.5-mile trail for my hash house harrier club this morning. Donna and Schatzi joined the pack but cut about a mile off trail. It was enough for Schatzi — mid 80s, bright sunlight and no shade — and she was glad to be home. I don’t think she’s left that chair since.