The greed gene riseth...

Continuing an annual tradition,  I will not shop  today. I like to think of it as an inspiring symbolic tribute to ludditical minimalism, but maybe it's just peurile cussedness.

Doesn't mean I actually forbid my loved ones to shop for me. I  cc'ed them on my letter to Santa,   which asks for just one toy, a nice little Lee Production Pot to melt down the 50 pounds of wheel weights  and miscellaneous leadite taking up shop space. Converted to .452 diameter 230 grainers, that translates to c. 1,500 projectiles for the 1911s -- probably enough  for me to discharge my obligations to liberty  when the New Administration Civilian Security Force sweeps Smugistan-on-Lake in quest of unregistered steak knives.

Thanksgiving? The food and company exceeded the highest expectations as it always does.  Folks who have friends of 30 years are very lucky. Thanks, C's.

And now, back to Tora Tora Tora, day-by-day. Soon as I haul in another armload of firewood and coffee up.