Farewell, my lovelies

 Most Saturdays, even when they weRe not in season, I have been eating oysters on the half shell. At first we got them down the road in Georgetown, but when that site dried up I found Emily's Oysters, cultivated in Freeport and sold at the Bath Farmer's Market. As the summer turned to fall the oysters grew larger and tastier. Emily's last day at the market was today. Although she sells them out of her house in Bath (in fact, she has an oyster CSA), I think the custom has run its course. No more oysters for a while.

Old Glory

 On election eve, I wrote this:

The election day is tomorrow

And my flags will be flying,

Taken down four years ago when

It seemed we had shit our country's pants

By not caring or hearing.

Equal time for lies and truth

On the news outlets we had foolishly

Come to trust. It seems, almost, worse now.

Yeats put it this way: “everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.”

Maybe Yeats didn't know how to spell

Kakistocracy, but now we have it,

And worse. Those are the passionate ones,

The innocents who are indoctrinated

By their TV habits and drive their pickups

Into a moving catastrophe.

But tomorrow, or probably later,

It all ends, I promise. Because, dammit,

This IS America, and there are enough

Good people, best if they're young,

Who will say, or have said: ENOUGH!

Enough with your lies! Enough

With your degradations! Enough

With the deaths you have brought

Because you didn't care. Enough.

Enough. More than enough.

So tomorrow, look for my flags.

And look at last for your country.

It's coming home.

========================

The flags went up next morning, including Big Al's one-sided official Camp Arrowsic flag and our new electric flag, that glows proudly all night.

Today, finally, all good.

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