Or Dominion Day, as some traditionalists still refer to it.
Or as Kipling said:
A nation spoke to a Nation,
A Queen sent word to a Throne:
Daughter am I in my mothers house,
But mistress in my own.
The gates are mine to open,
As the gates are mine to close,
And I set my house in order,
Said our Lady of the Snows.
no, not just their leadership and cars (although I think the Lada was better than the Trabant. Which is praising with faint d-mns, I know.)
Last month, RES over at According to Hoyt posted a link to Jay Nordlinger’s piece about jokes from and about the Soviet Union. I immedeatly got both of the ones RES copied, and laughed fondly. I’m a child of the Cold War, and “Russkie” jokes were common when I was growing up. Watching the planes from SAC Headquarters launching every day probably had something to do with that.
One of my favorite political cartoons from that era showed a table, with a banner over it labeled “Politburo Central Committee.” Behind each chair was a parking meter. Several of the meters read “Expired,” and the occupant of the chair was obviously deceased (feet sticking up and the only thing visible, body sprawled out on the table, and so on). This was from the time when the Soviets went through three First Secretaries in four years (Brezhnev, Andropov, Chernenko, then Gorbachev). This led Pres. Reagan to complain that he couldn’t get anything done with the Soviet leadership because they kept dying on him. He was older then they were, which says a lot about the hard lives of the Soviet leaders before they became leaders, and about the quality of Soviet medicine, even for the elite. Continue reading
OK, enough is enough. They are remodeling, sort-of, the drugstore cum natural-stuff emporium where I get my medicines, drug-store stuff, and cereal.
They moved the cereal. Specifically the stuff I have been eating for over a decade now, because my gastroenterologist recommended it. They are the only place that stocks it on a regular basis, and so I buy it there rather than ordering it. And it moved!!!!!
Sr. Scholastica [aka The Dean]: …and the next day is senior skip day.
Mrs. Verbum: That means the senior faculty are excused for the day, correct?
Sr. Scholastica [patient, tired, look]: No.
So, um, my allergies finally got the best of me. Saturday should have been cleaning day, but seven hours of Day Job prep sort of ate my time. And Sunday was nice enough I could open a window or four. After church and dinner, I grabbed the box of Swiffers™ and attacked the book shelves. Continue reading
Miss Verbum: Did anyone get lost this year?
Miss Scales: No! For which I just might sponsor a Mass.
In other words, the field trip was a success.
Herr Dr. Director: You are not going to run away on the “Alleluia” chorus this year!
Choir [silent but intense]: Oh yeah? Hold our diet sodas and watch this! Continue reading