The new normal

I have a smallish refrigerator, and thus I try to make meals which won’t have many leftovers, but that also means I have to shop pretty regularly. Apologies to our readers in London or Paris or Singapore for pointing out the obvious, but keep in mind I live in semi-rural southern Maine, where most people have fridges the size of small SUVs, and thus cook roughly six months in advance. It shows both a kind of thriftiness which I find impressive, but also an unconscious faith in the stability of the electrical grid which I find touchingly naive.

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Right

Our co-conspirator Vero posted her first essay in a very long while yesterday, which gave me an excuse to open a bottle of bubbly (not technically Champagne, but a California methode champanoise produced by a French house, which given the lingering effects of Trump era tariffs is an affordable and more than delicious substitute for the good stuff). Generally speaking, one need no more excuse to drink good Champagne than a day ending in “y”, but it is nice to reserve it for a special occasion.

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Epistemic Interlude

For months now, I’ve been silent.  I am sorry that I couldn’t find the words to share how I felt.  Because to be frank, I’ve been wondering: what ‘right’ do I possess to voice my perspective?  What makes my view on life, on social affairs, on ethics something ‘worthy’ of being shared?  How can I know that my ideas are ‘good’ and ‘important’, at least enough to deserve the energy and discipline it takes to come to the screen and write my innermost thoughts?  More importantly, how can I justify asking you to focus your attention on my words instead of on all of life’s other pressures and pleasures available to you?  How can I justify asking that of you?

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