First Snow Part IV

December in New England can be anything, last year the weather was pretty warm, no snow. This year, it's been cold since the first of the month, and we're on our fourth snow event. The temperature the other night was ten below, snowing pretty good right now.  Good day to wrap Christmas presents..
We have five grandkids now, the latest was born on the ninth, Arcturus, Four boys and one poor girl!

Saturday we shovelled snow, then it rained Saturday night, so Sunday we spent 3 hours chipping and scraping ice off the driveway. Now this morning it's 14 below.. Really cold December.
I know all you republicans out there are saying "See, no such thing as Global Warming!"  Regardless of how cold it is now, 2016 will go down as the warmest year on record. Facts are facts, the climate is changing, and anyone who thinks it isn't or thinks we don't have anything to do with it is just plain ignorant.


I was glad to see Andrea Bocelli is refusing to sing at the inauguration. My father would be happy, he was a devoted fan. My father grew up a Republican, back when politics was far less partisan than now. He taught me to listen to what they had to say. He never voted the "Ticket" he voted for the candidate whom he thought would be best for the country. He would have despised this years republican farse.


We all look upon the Statue of Liberty as a great symbol of our country. Yet, as I still reflect on this past election, an election won by greed, racism and isolationism, I have to wonder, how many of those who voted have read the poem on the base of this great American symbol...

Read it, think...  read it again

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,With conquering limbs astride from land to land;Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flameIs the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

This is who we are, not what this administration is threatening for us to become