Gifts of Christmas 2021
Candles of Hope
In the midst of the darkness of the soul that is revealing itself during this year of the Globalists’ Annus Horribilis, I’d like to light several candles of hope — early and forever — for the free world. I would actually like to offer a perpetual spiritual bonfire of the bright side, the flip side of the dark side that has overtaken so much of my nation, and the civilized world.
What will be, will be. And, born of necessity, that fate must be embraced and even celebrated. Here, then, is my go at my own nine days of wonder, or an early few of those Twelve Days of Christmas to last long into the year.
The only supply chain problem that I’ve encountered thus far is convincing the shipping companies that I do, in legal fact, reside on the street where I live. It’s been four decades since anyone built a house in my neck of the woods. DHL has learned quite a bit about that speedy trip to my pine-needle-covered lane and to the side door of my Larkhaven!
Made In The USA goods have steadily and speedily arrived at my dream house with a smile, and a doggie biscuit for Chance. This past week, Mr. FedEx left the milk-bone atop the boxes delivered at the doorsill —- while we were away from the house. Chancey Boy sniffed the biscuit right away, on his approach to the boxes. It’s gotten to be that the delivery package is a mere pretext for gently handing to Mr. Handsome Hound the special treat that his snout has come to expect, almost daily!
Far far away from home, in the sublime land known as Lithuania, the seamstresses at the Baltic Threads cooperative are happy, busy, talented women! Those industrious designers, sewers, entrepreneurs and textile manufacturers in Vilnius are phenomenal merchants and marketers.
The supply slowdown does not take place on the shipping end of those international transactions! The only limitation for those workers is not having enough hours in the day. Such is the eternal dilemma for smart and skilled women!
For the past six or seven years, I’ve been purchasing astoundingly high-quality creations from the artisans, leather crafters, knitters, seamstresses, and woodworkers in the former Soviet-bloc counties — and from that former Soviet Union known as Russia. These newbies to capitalism have highly impressed me with their adroit abilities to design, innovate, market, sell, and push that commerce-envelope at their own sites online.
I buy many personal goods made in the United States; however, the tooled leather, woven, and crocheted accessories, gemstone jewellery, hand-knitted sweaters, and linen garments, all made by those rugged individualists in Lithuania, the Ukraine, Belarus, Armenia, Poland, and Russia, that merchandise surpasses many of the finest goods I’ve ever owned!
There’s more than one way to skin the EU-cat. The shrewd, strong, and experience-wise individuals who grew up under the hideously dark and dehumanizing cloud of Communism are, in my firm opinion, the future of Europe. The elitists in Western Europe, living off of the reputation of a supreme civilization far more than relying on its reality, those cowardly prigs look down their noses at the likes of Romanians, Lithuanians, Latvians and Poles.
I’ve yet to see the peoples of the Modern UK become united enough to truly fight for their rapidly purloined and swindled freedoms, much less demand digital autonomy, privacy, and function, i.e. speed. Romania, that crudely unrefined nation, possesses one of the fastest and most advanced Internet systems in Europe!
Way to fight and win and hew, survivors of Nicolae Ceaușescu!
Alexandru Ioan Cuza, the princely leader of the Revolution of 1848 in Moldavia, looks like my kind of ruler-guy! He was the first domnitor, or ruler, of the Romanian principalities through his double-election as Prince of Moldavia and Prince of Wallachia in 1858.
Alexander the Revolutionary certainly knew how to rebel, fight, unite, reform, modernize and win 2 elections at once, without a scintilla of payola or that quid pro quo that seems to be the only Latin that journalists and pols here in the USA comprehend enough to try to pronounce, while lying and denying they’ve ever used that sleazy illegal tack to build their bank accounts back — better.
I’ve a fantastical belief that the victorious heirs to democracy in the Republic of Croatia can teach the Western Europeans a thing or two, or five hundred about living in liberty, with their productive heads held high. The heroes and heroines who got rid of the suicided war criminal, Slobo, just might offer some insights to the Anglos as to how to break free from their peace criminal, Bojo.
The Western European Parliaments of Whores believe they’ve brilliantly implemented a mushroom economy, whereby the citizens are kept in the dark and ration-fed a diet of, ahem, fertilizer. The real truth is that those pissed-off peoples have gone to ground, with underground economies and covert systems of communication. Those citizens are the ones fighting the peoples’ war of defeating invasions of virii, vipers, barbarians, and bimbos from America.
The only Bedroom Radicals in lockdown over there are the hardy, hearty souls secretly and surreptitiously creating new lives to be hatched amidst the chaos created by The Elected Leaders.
Who knows when Big Bro Bojo, and Lil Gove, with his levelling impulse, and Big Sis Priti — will app-invade that inner sanctum!
I resolutely believe there are vast multitudes of silent and patriotically private citizens in Western Europe, albeit in hiding on their own soils, who feel the dire and urgent need for a glorious revolution, une magnifique révolution. It appears the true citizens are waiting for the dunces to drown themselves in their own moats around Whitehall and Versailles.
Elected dunces with a working IQ are getting frightfully hard to locally come by, and to globally buy off. The last useful idiot successfully packaged and elected here in the States pre-dates the Great Recession. The Brits might be in the same boat as the Americans, in terms of governance. Which wonderfully re-defines that Special Relationship!
(The French now know better than to get into any boat with the Americans currently running the bag-lady/stumbling clown show. Those special relationships are overdue for some capsizing! Vive le naufrage !)
The bona fide Americans are gutsy, hard as nails, use horse sense, and are loyal to the red, white, and blue. The bona fide Scots, Irish, and English are dauntless, imperturbable, rational, and patriotic. Yet the poltroons and loons in Parliament keep arresting the decent, politically-incorrect citizen-blokes, while they let the criminal barbarians run loose and wild, and free to slay again.
Stab City is a far cry from the city of the British citizens — men, women, and children — who so valiantly defied Hitler during the Blitz. Those warriors on the Home Front not only survived that vile Nazi objective of terrorizing them into surrender. Those intrepid souls prevailed over the Teutonic barbarians, as they saved civilization itself by defeating the evils of Hitler and his henchmen.
That blitz was meant to drive the Brits stark ravers. It instead drove Adolf into his suicidal bunker. I do opine that we Americans have learned a lesson from that horrific history book regarding how to master that form of jūjutsu — during our most recent, recent modern history.
Let’s go Brandon!
I decided to go full-Brandon this holiday season. Like any savvy citizen in the USA this year, I did my shopping well in advance of December. I am opposed to Christmas-in-July purchases, but, in mid-October, I pulled the trigger on some terrific finds for loved ones. Including myself.
Columbus Day sales online hyper-expressed the 4th-quarter panic to sell off as much in-house online inventory as soon as possible! The percentage of quality goods not made in that polluted part of Asia is simply unprecedented, during these not-so-simply Unprecedented Times.
I found an unprecedented deal on a never-tried-before, but exceedingly precedented, perfume.
Nocturnes d’Caron replaces my beloved Nuit de Noël. That historic perfume house is still located in Paris. Still called Caron Paris, this haute parfumerie is now owned by the Rothschilds. (See The Sweet Smell of Success.)
I might, one day, yet get to own another bottle of this very vintage and sublimely evocative scent. For now, I’m more than enchanted by this other vintage eau de parfum by Caron. I may, in fact, prefer this gorgeous formulation more than that of Nuit de Noël, although it’s impossible for me to make any fair comparison because I no longer have in my possession the much-coveted, and no longer available, Caron original.
Straight out of the box, even before I spritzed it on, Nocturnes d’Caron mesmerized me. Introduced in 1981, this fragrance has a strong opening of rose, jasmine and ylang ylang. That delightfully enticing bouquet then subtly transmutes into a sensuous heart of sandalwood, whence I’m in love. The scent, and the sensation, slowly “dry off” with musk and vetiver. Just short of erotic, this eau de parfum is womanly, unforgettably alluring, softly intoxicating.
The French call such an olfactory experience envoûtant, and they are perfectly exact in that description (as the French usually are).
Last year, I’d given up on scented candles due to an exasperating customer service “encounter” online with an American business that shall not be named. It seems that I was late to the rude-PR-party of anti-social types, working as paid employees, to deal with consumers and their complaints. I’d sworn off the scented-candle gimmick. This past September, I broke that vow when I chanced upon a new e-tailer: Milkhouse Candles Company, based in Oswego, Iowa.
Their generously sized products are tastefully composed fragrances, presented in the most adorable and fun glass containers. I have fun with every candle that I’ve ordered; and their prices do not break the household bank.
This past year, I discovered a new browser, Brave, that brought to my online life a whole new world of high quality, innovative American businesses. These private enterprises are not new, or even young; some have been around for decades. If I’ve ascertained one consistent and undeniable lesson during the past year or two, it’s that the universe of commerce is just getting going where truly free-trade is concerned in these United States.
Yes, the best is yet to be. The Globalists’ Annus Horribilis paves the way for the Happy New Year of America’s Annus Mirabilus.
We patriots must work with strength, faith, patience, and conviction toward that hard-earned reward in a blessed country that expects no less than the best from its citizens.
From me, from Dear Hubby, from Chance, the liberty beagle, and from our wonderfully lovely Snowshoe cat, Gabrielle:
We wish you a Merry Christmas!