nearly at a loss for words

Andy Rooney voice: Did you ever notice how Trump, even at his most grandiose, can still find time to be incredibly petty?

The farm is warming up nicely, thank you, so there is no lack of outdoor projects to tend to.  Jude is busiest with the garden, and I’ve been concentrating on next winter’s firewood supply.  We got a cord or two of choice maple trimmed from a huge tree looming too large over the house, and she got us a great deal on rounds of alder and Douglas fir that will keep me at the splitter for weeks.

We have settled into a routine of a leisurely breakfast as we catch up on The Don’s freshest outrages and tend to e-mail and such.  Then we go outside with the dogs, joining the ravens, hummingbirds, robins, eagles and swallows as they soar over our little valley.

The swallows are my favourites.  We have four pairs nesting around the house.  Long enshrined in classical literature (Monty Python, anyway), they swoop, hover and zip through the sky.  They are fearless.  I saw one scare off a raven.  They flew within a few feet of me as I was weeding.

When Jude and I come in, she fixes her typical fine meal as I adjust my attitude to face the evening news.  I have lost all perspective on Aging Orange.  He piles up the abuses at a dizzying pace, with barely a peep from the spineless GOP.  What I consider appalling seems to be tolerable with much of the U.S.  I can only dream that Justice Roberts and the Supremes will do the right thing about his tax returns.

Failing that, as Stephen Colbert says, “Our best hope is fried chicken.”