Recently, the often very personal ritual of bodily function has been taken to the fresh air. Classically enough these past few days have been rain swept, well marked by high wind and chill, and it is very apparent to me that holes are easier to dig in the late winter than they are in the late fall.
Then yesterday the honey dipper arrived and one of us at last
was able to finish the article he was reading about the political class in his
attempt to understand what it was our rulers mean by the word "principle."
Suffice to say the long thought about "Outhouse With Magnificence," will now
proceed at pace.