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‘Merican Matrimony

Last year’s official wedding gift theme was copper.  This year was bronze.  We decided on a mutual gift to ourselves, and got a bronze star for the house:

Year 8!

It looks nice, but gives me pause.  Is it too…‘Merican?  I don’t mean “Is it too Americana?”, I’m talking about the apostrophe type of ‘Merican.

For reference

And when did appreciation for one’s own culture jump to extremest right-wing nationalism?  Maybe I’m just starting to feel that way with all the Trump flags surrounding us, like an eternal redneck colorguard.

Ah screw it.  It’s just a harmless little decoration.  Rockwellian Americana I say.

–Simon

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Bad Times

My Grandmother died, and Coronavirus COVID-19 is officially now a pandemic.  These events are, fortunately, unrelated.  She died of late-stage dementia.

COVID-19 itself has a low mortality rate, but 3% of the world’s population is a lot of people.  Schools have disbanded.  Liz and I have been sent home to work.  And I’ve lost 15% of my retirement with the stock crash.

Things will no doubt recover.  But for posterity, these are bad times.

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Feist

I neglected to mention that we got a new dog.  It’s a puppy rescue.  It’s also a Feist.  It’s also ornery and destructive.  I hate dogs that need to be busy.

But it’s also, like most dogs, sweet and loyal.  It’s already demonstrated some protective behaviors, and is wary of novelty, rather than immediately accepting a la whippets.

Two is the critical mass for canines.  Our family is now stable under the laws of density.

–Simon

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Aeris Amare

Last month marked the official anniversary of Liz and my iron-clad bonds of matrimony.  Or, in this case (being year 7), copper, according to the traditional anniversary gift theme.

As such, I was tasked to find the appropriate copper gift.  And I decided upon something pseudo-useful and humorous.  No, it wasn’t piping.  It was a giant copper cock!

Also known as a rooster, of course.  To fit the country theme of the below garden, or something.  Okay, so it’s just kinda cool to have a weathervane and I hoped she’d like it.

She did.  Here’s me testing it’s accuracy with a sole digit raised aloft to the heavens–or valiantly proclaiming something (“Aeris Amare!”):

–Simon