Born on Third Base

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It's this amazing woman's birthday today. Happy new year to our Stacey, my brother's partner of many years, skiing whizbam and all-around magnificent human being. We love you and are deeply envious of and concerned about all the snow you Coloradans are hoarding.

There were two cats hanging around the beehive this morning. Last year I lost my hive over the winter when a mouse moved in, made a spectacular nest and proceeded to enjoy the winter of his dreams, feasting on honey, safe from the cold, snow and wind outside. Seems the honeybee gods have provided us with sentinels this year. 

Sunday mornings make me think about Vergennes Laundry, my favorite place to have coffee and sit around all morning doing nothing but talking and reading the paper and eating and drinking. Actually, that's not nothing, that's everything. Today we decided to stay home, though. The extra hour made it feel like there was less of a rush to get to church and more time to eat practically everything in sight. On the table were eggs and bacon and coffee and toast and pickles and pesto and pie. I guess winter really is coming.

In church Will quoted New Jersey senator Cory Booker, whose no-nonsense dad told him this: "'Boy, don't you dare walk around here like you hit a triple, 'cause you were born on third base. You are enjoying freedoms, opportunity, technology, things that were given to you bought by the struggle and the sacrifices and the work of those who came before. ... Don't forget where you come from."

Amen. To birthday ski goddesses and pickles for breakfast and not forgetting.

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