PERHAPS IT CAN BE REMADE

Sunday morning has transitioned into early Sunday evening.

Dear Daughter called up and coaxed me out of The Study for a 45 minute walk.
She said someone has to get the Ole Fella up and moving.

Anyway, we did our duty and returned home and took Dear Sophie out for her much shorter amble.

English bulldogs are not known for great stamina.

And of course we monitored the national goings on whilst baking chicken and some fixins.

b.o.’s health care is about to pass the House.
We’ll see what we’re to see.
As Patti Page sang, whatever will be will be.

Tonite I intend to print photos; keep a warm fire going in the fireplace; have a few drinks; write a few lines; read a few chapters of Ray Chandler; and keep track of the failure to derail b.o.'s plans for my doctor.

Perhaps things appear to be worse than they really are.

Churchill once said that you can count on America to do the right thing, after it has tried all the alternatives.

Let’s hope that his observation is still true.

We tried to phone our Senators last night. Their phones would not accept any message. Robot said the inbox was full.

The American electorate put the dems into the majority.

As Gramma used to say, the electorate has made the bed and now has to lie in it.

Perhaps it can be remade.