SLABBED Daily – April 17

So, how’s your Friday? Mine started with Sop “feeling fortish (as in OLD) which made tired “fiftish” me feel ancient!   However, before I could decide if tired felt different at any age, I found this.

Edward M. Liddy, the dollar-a-year chief executive leading the American International Group since its bailout last fall, still owns a significant stake in Goldman Sachs, one of the insurer’s trading partners that was made whole by the government bailout of A.I.G.

Mr. Liddy earned most of his holdings in Goldman, worth more than $3 million total, as compensation for serving on the bank’s board and its audit committee until he stepped down in September to take the job at A.I.G. He moved to A.I.G. at the request of Henry M. Paulson Jr., then the Treasury secretary and a former Goldman director.

Men with the Gold-man-Sachs to profit at the expense of the American people make me angry and an ancient-feeling angry woman will turn to food before you can say hot flash.  At the risk of adding dumpy to my woes, I decided to read about it instead – finding comfort in Hodding Carter’s recent column in Gourmet.

What could be better for a frugal family than a free vacation? Four days into said “vacation,” a few things come to mind, actually—a hole in the head for starters, and then maybe a long session with the “dentist” in Marathon Man. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

As it turned out, I read all he’d written since my last visit, including the comment that led me to a young mother’s blog Hippo Flambe and from there to another

With spring being such a tease, I’m finding myself pining for the warm weather.   I’m stubbornly planting seeds, though the wind is blowing cold and I refuse to admit that the white fluff puffing through the air is snow.  I’m picturing our summer evenings at the Intervale Community Farm, with kids in the sandbox and romping through the fields … the goat cheese we’ll pluck out of the cooler each week … the peas and strawberries we’ll be picking.

When my children were young, we made regular trips to a pick-your-own farm.  One particularly memorable trip we picked a wagon load of strawberries and then went home and made jam – for days!  I don’t know if I’ve been as tired since – not when I fortish or even now at fiftish-  but the comfort of the memory makes me feel young again, younger than Sop!

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