Thought the first: you were right all along about comments. Nobody wants them. Nobody misses them. We have great readers, who are happy to chat with us or not, but who are not stewing and ready to burst with the strain of withheld conversation with intelligent strangers who are also readers. We will not have our Blogging Certificate of Authenticity revoked for lack of comments. Nice to know. One person wrote to suggest that maybe a blogroll consisting of the blogs of Rhubarb Pie readers might be nice. I'm willing to make such a thing. I volunteer to troll through our email archives and add those blogs, when I get around to it. Don't hold your breath, though.
Thought the second: I've been all teary and excited and on edge today, too, all extra smiley, since first thing this morning when I was 30th in line at my little polling place at 6:45 in the morning. Everyone is voting, and talking about voting. It's really cool. Plus I got to write in two friends, which is always fun. One is a friend who I write in on every election. The second was a friend I've never voted for, because one local municipal post had two openings and no candidates. When her political career has rocketed into the national spotlight, I will be able to say I started it all.
Thought the third: I am planning a post, which I will write tonight. The title is "The Perils of Anti-Intellectualism." That's the name of a talk I went to last week, by a very distinguished Ivy League professor. I was listening very hard because I have arrived at the disappointing but inescapable conclusion that I am an anti-intellectualist, and I wanted to hear why I should change my ways. Unfortunately, the very distinguished Ivy League professor did not help.
Thought the fourth: it is so very, very, very dark out all the time. It is a dim grey gloaming outside my window now, at 4:19 PM, and by the time I get to carpool at 5:03PM it will be the dead of night. The only way to fight the anguish of all this darkness is to cook soup and roast chicken in a yellow kitchen while drinking a glass of wine and having a friend or two sitting at the counter. And to go outside at lunch and walk around campus and try to feel glad that you can see your breath.