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Wednesday, January 02, 2019

Art Break

Illustration Art looks at the loose but clever technique of George Lichty.

Blogs That Should Return

I miss Sippican Cottage.

Beautifully written. Always interesting.

Tuesday, January 01, 2019

Crank It Up

New Year's would not be New Year's without "The Radetsky March."

Moving into the New Year

Because there will always be a demand for Grace Kelly.

It was early on New Year's Eve when the dog wandered into my office. We often have conversations on which of us has the better gig but the evidence so heavily favors the dog that we soon move to other subjects.

This time, however, there was a difference. She was there for one reason: it was the beginning of New Year's and her acute hearing could catch things her deaf and oblivious owner could not detect: early and explosive expressions of joy in the far distance.

And so I sighed. If the fireworks were popping this early, how would the rest of the evening go? My plan to be in bed by nine would mean little if a highly disturbed (and large) dog was attempting to crawl onto the same bed. I have learned that appeasing such attempts is a foolish move. If given a spot on the bed, the dog does not stay put but wanders about, stepping on its owner as often as on the mattress. My wife thinks that is amusing because most of the stomping is on my side of the mattress.

The upshot is I spent much of the night petting and reassuring a nervous dog. There was one final burst of explosions around 10:30 and none beyond that but the dog didn't know the schedule and so was antsy for hours beyond. Whenever possible I dozed off but the sleep schedule was marred.

As a result, the dog got more sleep than I did.

It's time for some espresso.

[{hoto by Alejandro Escamilla at Unsplash]

Many Thanks from an Old Dog

Let's all have a great 2019.

Evergreen

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

- From A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens