Everything is so charged now that CPE classes for CPAs are now prefaced with a reminder that while policy will be discussed, politics (and, weirdly, even religion!) should be left out of any discussions.
Does anyone have experience with a good medical alert bracelet-type device? Needs to be very low tech. Search results are pretty spammy and I’d like to get a recommendation from an actual person.
Port William Surnames
In one of his Just a Few Acres Farm videos, Pete was repairing a plow and mentioned the coulter. Being a Wendell Berry nerd, I recognized that as one of the surnames in Port William. That led me down a rabbit hole. Let’s be clear: the following is pure speculation based on internet research and could be wrong. Coulter A blade or disc set ahead of the plowshare that cuts into the soil, resulting in a neater furrrow.
I’m working on a Wendell Berry resources page. So far I have a list of his fiction in publication order plus a map and family tree. This will mainly just be for my own reference but let me know if you have suggested additions.
We did get to hear some good singing today at the funeral. Hearing this today draws up out of my memory all those country folks, in their country churches, singing their songs in that “high lonesome sound.” We drove around the old stomping grounds in Springville after the burial, reminiscing.
Today I help carry to his grave a small and angry man. He abused his children when they were young, manipulated and demeaned them as adults. He was the pope of his own exacting and graceless religion, not having darkened the door of an actual church in a half-century. He would arrive in heaven believing it was his due, with a thing or two to say to God about the management of the universe.
May his ancestors work him over. May his children find peace.
As Rachel said, all the choices of his life led to the loneliness of his death. Live so as to be missed.
Wendell Berry, A Place on Earth:
Margaret has taken off her hat, and put on an apron over the clothes she wore to church. She looks around at Mat and smiles as he comes into the kitchen, and turns back to the stove. She is wearing her grey dress that so becomes her—a pretty woman. He takes that in. He comes into her presence as he would come into the pleasing shadow of a tree—drawn to her, comforted by her as he has been, usually, all his life.
I love portrayals of happy couples in long-term relationships; they’re rare enough, both the fictional and actual. So much fiction and film is taken up with young people in love and middle-aged people in hate.
The calm, steady knowing of long-term love—the gratitude of finding yourself in such a place—it’s a bones-deep feeling of home. I wish there was more of this in the world. I’m deeply grateful that I’m living it with Rachel.
Made an early Christmas present for Rachel today: an oak rolling pin. Started out square but with a saw, belt sander, draw knife, and some time, I got it functionally round.
Ralph, the garage cat
Meet Ralph, our garage cat. He started showing up a few months ago. His hair was terribly matted and had to be painful, so one day we caught him and shaved off the matted bits. He wasn’t happy about it, but maybe he appreciated it because he started showing up regularly, especially once we started feeding him. As winter approached, we set him up with a bed and heated mat in the (detached) garage, plus a cat door so he can come and go as he pleases.
ChatGPT has a TV ad showing a young farmer, working her multi-generational family farm, asking ChatGPT what’s wrong with her soybeans. But … but … sigh … never mind.