It infuriates me that an ultra-right wing party affiliates itself with such a beautiful fragrant flower. I guess that's supposed to cover the stink of b-shit. Thank goodness they didn't get voted into power. As Christie Clark runs around in a panic trying to paint the NDP party as rampant communists she seems to be trying to form a fake alliance with the PC's saying the free enterprise parties must stick together or the sky will fall in? Whose sky? And whose sky is it anyway when American Space Cowboys proclaim they're gonna go out an lasso and few mineral-rich asteroids. Those idiots will start a global war--or an interplanetary battle.
These are the thoughts that nag at me as by back muscles convulse and send pain messages to all parts of my body. I've been burning through books: The Vault, by Ruth Rendel (I enjoy her deft sketches of characters), She Felt No Pain by Lou Allin (set in Sooke), and the epic A Small Death in Lisbon by Robert Wilson (fascinating history).
Tonight I made lentils and spaeztle like my mom used to make, only substituted a smoked turkey leg for a ham bone and the little red lentils which cook more quickly than the brown ones. Needs Riesling!
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