Columnists

Letting pets move around freely is a thing of the past, traffic being what it is and even the odd dog thief about.

Can we pause for a second to consider the fact that robots telephone us regularly to try to fleece us of our hard-earned cash?

I keep thinking about what that sensibly unaffiliated Down Easterner in the Senate, Angus King, said on “60 Minutes” the other night, about how those who raged at the Capitol have to be listened to, that they aren’t going away.

Oh well, forget about getting vaccinated. I called my doctor’s office the first day I was eligible, at 9 a.m. sharp, and they knew nothing. Then I called Southampton Hospital, and they too knew nothing.

Like many Americans, I have struggled to come to any kind of understanding of the violence and destruction taken to Washington just over a week ago. But one thing is clear to me as a late-coming student of slavery in the Colonial and early Republic North: Mob violence is no aberration in our history.

Nettie and I took a flying drive to Delaware this week to inspect the campus of a boarding school. Pandemic ennui makes even the shortest jaunt seem like a grand holiday.

The riot at the Capitol may have overshadowed the Georgia special election that elevated Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock to the Senate, but it’s too bad it did, because that unlikely turn of events nudged the federal government closer to the ability to actually do something.

As Trump’s thugs vandalized the Capitol, hacking their way through windows and doors, and flooding in, it occurred to me that we ought to watch “Lincoln” that night, that night of all nights.

There probably were better moments than this for me to take up knitting. Yet here I am.

I’ve never understood why patience is a virtue. Patience makes life easier, sure (especially if you are a parent). But a virtue? Why?

Cable-less, I broke down and signed on for a streaming service solely so I could watch the N.F.L. playoffs and Super Bowl, which, after all, has practically become an extension of the holidays for the average American. And just in time.

Two strong guys took our two long, heavy couches to the dump the other day as part of a purging effort of Mary’s that I’ve warmed up to, though at times I fear I may be the next to go.