Charlie's newest phrase is "Oh, no!" Remember Mr. Bill?

Oh, so now everything carries guilt?

At the MSN homepage today there is a "Guiltless Guacamole Recipe."

My first thought was "What are those people adding to their guacamole? Olive oil? Mayonnaise? Tequila?"

One regular guacamole recipe looks like this.

Let's look again at the recommended recipe. White beans in guacamole to cut fat?

Sorry, kids. Use the full fruit and eat the beans on the side. Eat less, if it bothers you that !@*%$#@ much.

Where do y'all come from?

I posted this at Althouse:

I fault Sarah Palin for having the poor judgment to accept a nomination that would bring young, unwed, pregnant Bristol onto the public stage.

How many times have we heard the term "teenage pregnancy" in the last say, 40 years, as something to be contained?

Now everyone's supposed to say, "Well, that's cool," then pay for her delivery and the support of the child in the Naval Observatory?

Hell, I didn't like the way the Bush girls dressed at the 2004 convention. Some occasions demand some formality, and a nomination to the presidency or vice-presidency is one of them.

But, back to to my topic, you can't break with a social narrative (call it a more, if no longer a taboo) that hard and not expect criticism.

Should that have applied to Trig? Not at all. None of us has control over our genes.

Have at it.

Lucy rarely speaks anymore, but yesterday while I was reading in the bedroom and Lyman was doing errands, she belted out a wonderful array of natural bird calls -- the kind you hear above the rain forest down home with clacking and monkeys.

The girl gone native.

OK, birds. Which tape do we want to run today?

Charlie started to chant along with the singer at the end of one tape the other day. Will he start chanting yoga meditation mantras?

The toning tape? Oh.

If Governor Mark Sanford's sons were a few years older, I can imagine them pulling on his suit sleeves and saying, "Dad, Dad, it might be a good idea not to talk about this now."

It would be hard to reconcile with a man who stated in public that his lover was his "soul mate," but he would be making efforts to fall back in love with me.

That limb he's sitting on would look awfully fragile to me about then. Especially if I were a Skil heiress. Bzzzzzzzzzt.

The first of the great summer meals tonight: fresh-shelled purple-hull peas cooked with a bit of bacon, fresh sliced tomatoes, fresh sliced cucumbers, a bit of ham and buttermilk cornbread.

Summer Southern Sunday Supper.

That toning workout was fine until yesterday. Then I was sore enough that I laid off a day from the yoga. Today I went back to the beginning tape.

For this beginning phase I need to establish a rhythm. Maybe alternating the first tape and the relaxation tape for three days, then the toning tape, then a day off. Until I am stronger.