Merry Christmas all. I gave my twenty four year old unmarried (pursued by a couple good guys) daughter a handmade hope chest for Christmas. Hope is a wonderful commodity. No hope in dope, no hope in the dopes in government, but hope in the resilience and ingenuity of folks in the heartland. We can survive these empty suits and blowhards in DC and yet triumph. We’re Americans!

My country,’ tis of thee,
sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing;
land where my fathers died,
land of the pilgrims’ pride,
from every mountainside let freedom ring!

2. My native country, thee,
land of the noble free, thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
thy woods and templed hills;
my heart with rapture thrills, like that above.

3. Let music swell the breeze,
and ring from all the trees sweet freedom’s song;
let mortal tongues awake;
let all that breathe partake;
let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong.

4. Our fathers’ God, to thee,
author of liberty, to thee we sing;
long may our land be bright
with freedom’s holy light;
protect us by thy might, great God, our King.

Merry Christmas, folks, let’s fight the good fight for our young ‘uns and their
progeny. I’ve resolved to read Churchill’s World War II books after the New Year
Fight them in the hedgerows, Jones Beach, where ever.The battle must be joined.