I Hope I Can Handle Monday
I'd like to think that this weekend has provided the spiritual nutrients necessary to fortify me for the coming week. After all, I've been relatively productive, which is one of the metrics by which I measure my worth (thank you, Nana!) I got my nails redone yesterday, and made a decent beef and vegetable stir-fry yesterday. Today, I got out the big slow-cooker and made a beef stew, complete with parsnips, apples, celery, onion, potatoes, wine, beef broth, diced tomatoes ... we'll see if the various flavors blend or fight with each other. (ETA: they blended quite nicely.)
In the past few days, I managed to write and post a drabble, I've managed to converse with people online, and I've read some lengthy essays on things non-Kavanaugh related (and some that were). all of which I think provides excellent mental exercise for me.
Question for some of you: am I a minority in thinking that
this essay not only smacks of "hey, you kids, get off my lawn," and of an obdurate refusal to acknowledge language's evolution, but that it's poorly written? As far as I can tell, it doesn't even properly make or advance its supposed core argument and theme: "We are allowing a perversion of meaning to creep into our language, where words are used for control, rather than persuasion."
Just me?
I remembered today that I hadn't posted any pictures of our Seattle trip, which I'd said I would do. Here's one that Andy took of Bob and I at the Chihuly gallery and museum.
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