On Hibernation

January 17, 2026 in A Glass of Wine With You!, A Stroll In The Gardens, Is This Thing On?, O! Tempora and So-Forth, Root, Root, Root For The Home Team!, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 1 comment

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Sorry for the dearth of postings hereabouts recently. Almost immediately after our Noo Year’s jaunt Ol’ Robbo was struck by the Soooooper Fluuuuu and I’ve been battling it off and on ever since. I think I’m finally on the rebound but am still pretty worn out. Between that and being continually drained by the frantic pace of work down to the office, well, you can see why.

Also, lots of things Ol’ Robbo would like to talk about, Ol’ Robbo really shouldn’t talk about. Perhaps some day I’ll write a book. (Working title: FAFO.) One thing I would note with horror is that the now solidly-Left Virginny Legislature has already passed four proposed constitutional amendments – wall-to-wall abortion rights, automatic felon vote restoration, arbitrary and ad hoc redistricting….. I warned here some posts back that things were going to turn sour for the Formerly Great Commonwealth, and damme if I ain’t right. (I shall have to start referring to the place as California East.)

Speaking of, yesterday Ol’ Robbo received an email from an old law school classmate reminding me that our 35th reunion is coming up this year. I probably didn’t say half a dozen words to this fellah during our time in school, mostly because he was a notoriously arrogant jackass. The tone of his email was at once smarmy and faux-hearty, with just a hint of condescension. Ol’ Robbo really hadn’t been planning on attending the reunion anyway since I already keep up with those who I wish to, but the thought of having to endure this sort of thing (and to pay for it, too) pretty much sealed the deal for me. I’m too old for all that.

Well, indeed, Time proceeds apace. Ol’ Robbo will shortly transform for “sixty” to “in his sixties”. Meanwhile, all the Gels are now thoroughly in their mid-twenties. (Thank Heaven that Mrs. R also remains in her mid-twenties.) I would not be the slightest bit surprised if Middle Gel gets engaged to her Young Gentleman this year.

What else? Our latest Storm of the Century of the Week amounted to a scattering of flakes this morning. Ol’ Robbo believes he begins to see the days starting to get a little longer now, which gives me hope. (It flashes on me even now as I’m typing this that I had better start thinking of my plans for late-winter pruning around Port Swiller Manor.) I’d also had said that the thought that pitchers and catchers report in less than a month now added to this hope, but now I’m not so sure. Not only do Ol’ Robbo’s Beloved Nats look not that much better than they did last year, I recently read that the expiration of the League’s CBA makes it likely that there will be a strike affecting or even cancelling the upcoming season. Bah!

Well, Ol’ Robbo will leave it at that for now.

On Rounding the Turn

January 3, 2026 in A Glass of Wine With You!, Historickal Musings, O! Tempora and So-Forth, Roman Catholic Boys for Art, The Home Fires, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 3 comments

Greetings, my fellow port swillers and a Very Happy New Year to one and all!

As foretold in a post below, Ol’ Robbo, Mrs. R, Eldest Gel, and Decanter Dog travelled down to the spacious but secure grounds of Fort LMC on New Year’s Eve, there to revel with the Former Llama Military Correspondent and his family as we have done for the past, oh, 30-odd years now.

In residence at Fort LMC currently are a pair of yellow labs, one ancient and sedate but noisy, the other young and energetic and also noisy. As it turned out, Decanter Dog got on just fine with them but as you might imagine the festivities had a canine theme that, at times, insisted upon itself. (Not that Ol’ Robbo is complaining, mind you.)

As part of the entertainment, Ol’ Robbo saw a couple of films that were new to him. First was Argo, the story of six employees who got out of the American Embassy in Tehran just before the jihadis took it over in 1979 and hid out in the Canadian embassy until the CIA was able to concoct a scheme to sneak them out of Iran. Apparently it’s a true story, although Ol’ Robbo does not remember hearing about it at the time. An interesting film and well-made (if a bit biased about the roots of the Revolution). Second was an HBO series about the Chernobyl fiasco. (Why we watched it, I’ve no idea. It was Eldest’s suggestion.) Ol’ Robbo cannot think of a single more fitting adjective to describe the incompetence, blind politicks, and rigid bureaucracy that led to the accident and haunted the government’s response to it than “Soviet“. (How the USSR lasted 80 years and why in Heaven’s name anyone nowadays would wish to repeat the experiment are mind-boggling questions.***) Again, a very well done show.

Finally, however, for New Year’s Day night Ol’ Robbo insisted on something fun, so we ran off the recent Naked Gun sequel starring Liam Neeson. I was somewhat….skeptical about choosing this, so fond as I am of the originals with Leslie Nielson, and given Hollywood’s current penchant for turning out really rotten reboots of classicks. I’m happy to say, however, that my fears proved groundless: the film was very respectful of its roots, maintained the same type and level of humor in an updated format perfectly well, and didn’t take itself in the least seriously or otherwise try to push some fashionable modern sensibilities. Ol’ Robbo laughed and laughed. You might, too.

On a different note, just before we left for the revels, the new oven was delivered to Port Swiller Manor. (Regular friends of the decanter will recall that our old one finally gave out at Thanksgiving. Its replacement took so long to get here because the sale price we got was so popular that it was back-ordered.) Unlike our previous unit which had only one oven and a sort of warming rack underneath, this one has two ovens one of which is just big enough to hold a roast or turkey. Ol’ Robbo is all set to give it an inaugural run this evening. (Not a roast, but the Eggs Benedict I chickened out of serving at Christmas brunch because of the large number of guests. Yes, that’s stovetop work but now I can do popovers with it.)

Thus, for 2025 we had to replace both the oven and the HVAC. Which major system/appliance at Port Swiller Manor will go boom in 2026? Ol’ Robbo’s money is on the water heater but I may put a side-bet on the microwave. Oh, the joys of home ownership!

Well, that’s that. Yes, Ol’ Robbo has been keeping up with the headlines. The only comment on any of that which I will offer is that while the new Mayor of New Yawk City is shooting off his yap about his plans for the Brave New World, Ol’ Robbo has an idea that the new Governor of the Great Commonwealth of Virginny is going to do the more actual damage. We shall see. Meanwhile, as I haven’t had the chance yet, I’m off to read Dave Barry’s 2025 Year in Review. (See? 2026 is only three days old and already Ol’ Robbo is behind!)

*** Okay, the answer to the second question isn’t all that difficult: The Will to Power which possesses every “leader” on the Left hasn’t changed at all and the young persons seduced by the idea of Collectivism these days are historickally ignorant.

A Little Christmas Cheer

December 29, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, A Stroll In The Gardens, Musickal Musings, O! Tempora and So-Forth, Roman Catholic Boys for Art, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 3 comments

Greetings, my fellow port swillers and a continued Merry Christmas to you all!

Not much to report here at Port Swiller Manor. Ol’ Robbo was somewhat peeved this morning to look out into the back yard and see a couple of deer nibbling at the roses. I had hoped that the essence of Decanter Dog would keep them out but, alas, it has not. Well, it is that time of year when food starts getting a bit scarce, so I can understand their aggressiveness. What really ticks me off, however, was the look of lazy contempt they gave me when I went out to shoo them off. “Yeah, buddy-boy, we’re going,” they seemed to say, “but you can’t watch all the time. We’ll be back.”

Speaking of being back, it always amuses Ol’ Robbo how the local classickal station goes to wall-to-wall Christmas musick the week leading up to December 25th and then cuts it dead at 12:01 ack emma on December 26th. I decided this year that whoever put together the holiday playlist is a pure masochist. Nobody, nobody, could possibly want to hear five different settings of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” or “O Holy Night” on the same afternoon. My only consolation is that the deejays have to listen, too. And by the bye, has Ol’ Robbo mentioned lately that he hates medleys? Well let me make it clear: I. Hate. Medleys.

On a completely different note, we had Middle Gel’s Young Gentleman to dins here last evening. (He’s the one, regular friends of the decanter may recall, who works on classic and vintage cars.) And after many months of talking about it, we actually got around to replacing all the burned out bulbs behind the dashboard of Ol’ Robbo’s Wrangler. To be more accurate, he replaced them while Ol’ Robbo held the light and kibitzed, but I like to think I made some intelligent observations and didn’t ask anything foolish. (If I am mistaken, he was too polite to show it.) At least I bought the correct replacement parts all on my own. It was an operation Ol’ Robbo was hesitant to undertake on his own since it involved taking apart the dash panels, although now that I’ve seen it done I believe I could do it myself. Anyhoo, no more having to guess how fast I’m going while driving in the dark.

Well, today is the Feast of St. Thomas Becket, so why doesn’t Ol’ Robbo leave you with the SCTV classic, the NASA production of T.S. Eliot’s “Murder in the Cathedral”. Enjoy!

Merry Christmas!

December 25, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, Is This Thing On?, O! Tempora and So-Forth, Swimming the Tiber, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 3 comments

Greetings, my fellow port swillers and a very Merry Christmas to you all!

It is late afternoon on Christmas Day here at Port Swiller Manor and Ol’ Robbo is, frankly, rayther drained out from the past couple days of preparation and festivities, capped off earlier this afternoon by an extended brunch here. (Alas, with the oven still out and the replacement not yet here, no roast beef and Yorkshire pud for Ol’ Robbo this year. But scrambled eggs, French toast, and various accompaniments are as good cheer when the company is right.)

Fortunately, I’ve down time for the next few days before we all (including Decanter Dog) head for the Former Llama Military Correspondent’s stronghold to welcome in the New Year. Perhaps during this pause Ol’ Robbo will be able to get back into the rhythm of his regular nonsense, which, as you can see, has gone begging the past few weeks. Funny enough, many themes on which I used to dwell this time of year but eventually got sick of somehow feel fresh again. Is it possible there is some kind of cycle to blogging?

Anyhoo, we shall see what we shall see. In the meantime, may the Joy of the Christmas (as opposed to Xmas) Season be with you one and all. God bless!

“Where’s Robbo?” Random

December 5, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, A Stroll In The Gardens, Historickal Musings, O! Tempora and So-Forth, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 3 comments

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

No, for those of you who still drop by from time to time, Ol’ Robbo has not disappeared permanently into the ether. I’m just very busy these days. Nonetheless, a few snatched thoughts for you:

Storm of the Century of the Week Watch: Port Swiller Manor is seeing its first snowfall of the season today, a gentle coating that is enough to look very pretty but not so much that Ol’ Robbo will need to do anything about it. I’ve reached the point in my life where I will take such a deal any time, as I’ve pretty much lost any taste for shoveling. (Eldest Gel has said she will help me as needed, but I begin to detect a hint of solicitousness in that and other comments among my family that puts my back up a bit. Nobody has actually said “poor old man” but they may be beginning to think it.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like…Part Uno: What says “the Spirit of Christmas” more than a gift of a set of new tires for Youngest’s car, her old ones being worn practically bald? We all chipped in to get them for her. They were just what she needed and she’s very grateful to her sisters and us, so I’d call that a win.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like…Part Deux: Speaking of big-ticket items, the Port Swiller oven has chosen to commit suicide. We’ve had the thing for roughly fifteen years, so I suppose it was a good run, but since we already had had to replace the HVAC over the summah, I’d been hoping for a break from these capital costs for a while. What ho, the money pit? Ol’ Robbo can get away with ordinary cooking using the range (still functioning) and a little countertop toaster oven, but doing a big Christmas Dins is out of the question unless we get a replacement in time. (I’m not sure where we are with this and will need to consult Mrs. R.)

Gratuitous Historickal Observation: In case you’re wondering, no, Ol’ Robbo is not watching the Ken Burns Revolutionary War series. I’ve heard and read too many accounts of revisionism and politickal correctness therein and want nothing to do with it. Indeed, I’ve never seen any Ken Burns series – from the very beginning there’s been such a fawning over the guy by the Usual Suspects as to automatically stir up the contrarian in me. So there.

Well, that’s that for now.

Saturday Garden Post – All in the Day’s Work Ed. – UPDATED

November 29, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, A Stroll In The Gardens, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 1 comment

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo finds himself tired but in good spirits late this afternoon, as I finally roused myself out this morning and took on the leaf job I’ve been lollygagging about head-on. Seven hours (yes, seven. hours.) of blowing, raking, and hauling in 6×4 tarp-loads out into the woods later, I am done.

And I mean really done. All the maples have dropped completely, and even the oak has shed more than it usually does by this point, perhaps because of the dry weather. So today turned out to be my Waterloo: It’s all just mopping up from here on out.

Fortunately, the conditions were perfect. Cool but not bitter, sunny and clear, and the wind of no real consequence. Plus, due to the dry weather and a stiff breeze the past few days, the leaves were quite dry, too. (Had this been a rainy year, Ol’ Robbo would have paid a severe penalty for letting them all come down before he started chipping away at them, as bitter experience has taught me.)

Ol’ Robbo was pleased that, even though he is beginning to wilt at the edges a bit, he can still put in such a sustained effort. (Okay, it wasn’t hundred pound bags of concrete, but c’mon!) As I say, it was a very pleasant day so it was easy to just let my mind wander to this and that as I trudged up and down the hill or winkled leaves out of the pachysandra and ivy beds. Indeed, I was so chuffed when I came back inside that I was not even annoyed nobody else had put the library back together again and took care of it myself without a murmur. (When Youngest’s Young Gentleman was here, having no other spare room, we put him down on a blow-up mattress in the library, which necessitated moving furniture about to make room for it.)

So here I am, tired but contented, relieved as the dickens at getting it over with, and looking forward in about two minutes to pouring myself a celebratory sherry. My only qualm is a feeling that my back is going to have something pretty stern to say tomorrow morning, but I’ll enjoy the moment in the meantime.

UPDATE: Yes, Sunday morning and it’s achey-breaky time for poor Ol’ Robbo’s joints and muscles. On the other hand, it rained last night so I have the knowledge of a bullet dodged to keep me warm.

Home for the Hols – UPDATED

November 26, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, A Stroll In The Gardens, Roman Catholic Boys for Art, What Would Basil Fawlty Do? | 2 comments

Greetings, my fellow port swillers! On behalf of the Roman Catholic Boys for Art, allow Ol’ Robbo to wish each of you a very Happy Thanksgiving! Let us all be grateful for what we have.

Lynx-eyed friends of the decanter may recall Ol’ Robbo mentioning his plans to pack up the entire family (including Decanter Dog) and head down to our best friends’ to celebrate the holiday? Well, at the last minute Eldest Gel couldn’t get away. We chewed on it and decided it was better for all of us to stay together rayther than abandon her. So it will be a small gathering at Port Swiller Manor after all, our sole guest being Youngest’s Young Gentleman who is coming down from Ahia with her. (We’ll see our friends at New Year’s anyway.)

As to the menu, well it’ll be pretty simple. None of us much likes turkey, so Ol’ Robbo is doing Cornish game hen with stuffing and asparagus, with Eldest’s home-made mac-cheese and cranberry on the side. Bracketed by bacon/water-chestnuts and pie, that should be ample.

Also, it’s just as well I’m not travelling anywhere because the leaves have come down round here with a vengeance and it looks like I’m going to need at least all day Friday and Saturday to put any kind of dent in them. If I’d been away, I’d have spent the whole time fretting about them.

Anyhoo, Ol’ Robbo raises his first glass of holiday cheer: Here’s to all of you who still come round to read his feeble musings. Huzzay! Huzzay! Huzzay!

UPDATE: Well, live and learn, Ol’ Robbo supposes. I tried to cook too many things in the oven at the same time and wound up ruining the hens. So apart from the bacon appetizers, we wound up having a veggie Thanksgiving. *Shudders*

That said, it was a most enjoyable dinner. Ol’ Robbo likes Youngest’s Young Gentleman more and more every time he’s here and we had a very lively and cheerful meal. Everyone else is now out doing their Black Friday thing, so I fear I finally have to get around to those leaves…….

Gratuitous Musickal Observation

November 14, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, Musickal Musings, O! Tempora and So-Forth | 1 comment

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo discovered yesterday that his local classickal radio station has thrown its drive-time NPR “news” updates overboard, no doubt in an effort to cut costs in the face of losing its funding from Uncle Sugar. (I only listen to the station on my commute and down the office, so had missed this before.)

Good. Goooooood.

I believe I posted at the time the Corporation for Publick Broadcasting lost its funding that I would consider donating to my station again if it chucked NPR. Ol’ Robbo now shall have to look at this seriously: if I’m satisfied my monies are going to the radio station only and not being used to also subsidize the organization’s PBS-affiliate teevee station, then I’m in.

One slight downside to this discovery: Ol’ Robbo used to derive a certain surly pleasure from jabbing the off-button and yelling “shaddap!” when the NPR “news” updates came on. Also, because I’m a bit of a nut, I’d taken to the habit of judging the “success” of my evening commute by which light I’d made along my route from the Metro by the time the 6:00 pm update came on. I suppose I’ll miss these little diversions, but overall it will be worth it.

Back to the World of Dreams

November 12, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, A Stroll In The Gardens, Is This Thing On?, O! Tempora and So-Forth, Roman Catholic Boys for Art, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Well, absent some last minute shenanigans in Congress this afternoon, it appears our long National Nightmare is over and Ol’ Robbo will head on back down to the shop tomorrow. I will not hide it that I’ve appreciated the rest, especially after a kookoo-bananers year and an inadequate summah hols.

The big loser will be Decanter Dog. He’s got used to having me around and unlimited walkies-on-demand. Now he’ll have to go back to doggie-daycare a couple times a week depending on the work schedules of Mrs. R and the Elder Gels. (We just never could bring ourselves to crate-train him.)

Speaking of said walkies, Ol’ Robbo had meant to mention that there is an artist in the area who has a predilection for placing little wildlife creations at random. So, for example, one sees this:

Or this:

Or this:

The placements are often quite high up trees, which makes me think the artist sees difficulty of access as part of the challenge. Some of these pieces have turned up attached to local street signs and utility poles, too. The County doesn’t seem to mind, as Ol’ Robbo has seen no effort to remove them.

A few days ago, this appeared back in the woods:

It may be a bit difficult to see from my poorish pic, but that thing is fully six feet tall. Decanter Dog and Ol’ Robbo spotted it at exactly the same time, and I’ll allow we both jumped a bit. After which, however, I smiled. Whoever the artist is, he or she evidently has a sense of humor.

Whelp, we’ll see how the bloggy schedule shakes itself out once Ol’ Robbo is back in harness.

Saaa-LUTE!

November 11, 2025 in A Glass of Wine With You!, Historickal Musings | 2 comments

Greetings, my fellow port swillers and happy Veterans’ Day!

Ol’ Robbo never served himself but a fair chunk of my legal practice involves aiding servicemembers, so I like to think I do my bit. Also, the haircut I got yesterday makes me look like I’m on my way to Parris Island (that is if the Marines were ever so strapped as to take flabby and greying middle-aged men).

The Old Gentleman did a couple years with the Army Medical Corps, which is why Ol’ Robbo grew up in South Texas: when his deferred draft became active, he was posted to Ft. Sam Houston and the family wound up staying in San Antonio after he got out. He sometimes claimed he was “very nearly” shipped to Vietnam but nobody really believed that. Also, from his field training out at Camp Bullis, he sometimes fancied himself as a sort of Hawkeye Pierce, at which we rolled our collective eyes. I’ve still got his field jacket somewhere.

The Mothe’s brother (who I never met) was RIO in a carrier-based fighter-bomber in Korea. I once identified the ship, I think, but can’t seem to reproduce the results now. The story was that he blew up a Nork ammunition train once. He also got shot down and was injured when he ejected.

Then there was Ol’ Robbo’s great-great grandfather who was an officer in the 10th Ohio Independent Battery, XVII Corps, Army of the Tennessee, Francis Blair, Jr., commanding. He saw action at Kennesaw Mountain and around Atlanta, but the unit records indicate that the only casualties it ever took were owing to disease. From the maps I’ve seen, they appear to have mostly been kept out of the way. That said, he died quite young, supposedly as a result of exhaustion from his extensive campaigning.

Ol’ Robbo’s most immediate contact with the Armed Forces is my best friend, the Former Llama Military Correspondent, who after a very active career starting as a paratrooper, retired a bird-Colonel with the Army Reserve a few years ago. He’s part of a very large Irish Catholic family with members in many different branches of the Service. His son, a graduate of VMI, just became an officer in the Marines.

So to these and all others who wear or have worn the uniform, pray allow Ol’ Robbo to raise his glass. Huzzay! Huzzay! Huzzay!

Archives

Recent Comments

rbj1's avatarrbj1 on On Hibernation
The Maximum Leader's avatarThe Maximum Leader on On Rounding the Turn
rbj1's avatarrbj1 on On Rounding the Turn
NOVA Curmudgeon's avatarNOVA Curmudgeon on On Rounding the Turn
rbj1's avatarrbj1 on A Little Christmas Cheer

Blog Stats

  • 520,862 hits
January 2026
M T W T F S S
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031  
Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started