There Will Be No Civil War
Grab your cocktail, fast! Schuyler is making us Chambord & Champagne, serving them in champagne flutes. What a bumpy night, hence the drinks, although no drink in the world can make Rummy more palatable, unless you like your monsters dead, the way we like ours. Problem is, Cathy said, Rummy is, thanks to his vile good friend Dubya, still kicking, speaking, making policy, and very much alive. Anyway, Cathy said, you heard him spout it: "There is no civil war in Iraq."

This, from the guy who basically told the entire U.S. Army, "shove it, you fight the war you've got whether you are equipped with the armor you need to help keep you alive or not." This, Cathy said, from the administration that swore we were fighting because of "weapons of mass destruction intended for our own mass destruction" and that we would be greeted by millions of Iraqis bearing carnations in their teeth, seething with patriotic fervor and love for the U.S. invaders. So Cathy, asked, are you going to believe Rummy this time 'round?

DOD = Cesspool
Has there ever been a Secretary of Defense less concerned with the welfare of U.S. troops than Donald Rumsfeld? Shelley said that when she imagines Janet Leigh behind the bathtub curtain she also imagines that the only creep creepier than that psycho is this one, Rummy, who merrily goes on with his coprophilic life as U.S. service personnel are slaughtered daily because he doesn't give a damn. Up here on the ranch, Shelley said, we'd administer Judge Roy Bean's type of justice not only to Crummy Rummy, but to everybody in this administration who has anything to do with the slaughter of U.S. troops, Afghani innocents, and Iraqi civilians being massacred because Georgie Porgie just had to have his nasty little invasion.

Coalition? Mountain Oysters
Just about right now, we are the most hated nation on earth; thanks, George. What little there was of the imaginary "coalition" is melting with the end of winter's snows. Need proof, Bubba? Kim Howells, Foreign Office Minister of the United Kingdom, had this to say about the Bushies: "I would never take my guidance from swivel-eyed right-wing Americans and I'm surprised that anybody ever did. I do not look to them to continue the fight for democracy and to rebuild a nation in Iraq any more than I would look at some left-wing loony." Suck on that George; suck on that, Psycho Rummy.

Cooks To The Rescue
Shelley and Cathy teemed up to prepare some amuse bouches, little appetizers to have before the soup course. Tonight they prepared Red and Yellow Bell Peppers Stuffed with Dungeness Crab. From their wine collection, they brought some bottles of the Spanish Codorníu Reserva Reventos Brut, which paired beautifully with the crab appetizers.

Alex and Jane introduced us to a wonderful Greek soup, Chicken Avgolemono, which because of the egg thickener, needed a great white wine to accompany the soup. Shelley and Cathy were generous enough to bring some bottles of a rather expensive but absolutely gorgeous Meursault, one of the great white Burgundies.

Beatrix served us exquisite braised Bay Scallops with Caviar on a bed of perfectly prepared fluffy, garlicky rice. Paired with a nonsparkling Coteaux Champenois, we all toasted Beatrix and her cooking skills.

Jane served us small dollops of raspberry sorbet as an interlude between the exquisite seafood course and the next delight, our meat course.

Max and Charlotte, lovers of complicated dishes, worked hard on their Maggi-Balsamic Marinade Rack of Lamb. On the plates they brought to the tables were servings of Leek and Feta Cheese Quiches and Cremini Cabbage Roulades. A Merlot was suggested for this dish, but Max and Charlotte brought some bottles of a perfect Spanish 2002 Marqués de Cáceres Rioja Crianza that turned out to be a perfect marriage with the lamb.
Shelley made countless Mango and Apricot Tartlets which wowed us and made the teenagers ask for seconds.

Winding Down
Liz, our quote guru, shared this quote with us as Max poured us after-dinner coffee when we had rejoined the teenagers in the Great Room, from Samuel Johnson (1709 - 1784)
"If a man does not make new acquaintances as he advances through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man, Sir, should keep his friendship in constant repair." Hmm, another lesson grizzled ol' Barbara didn't teach her slimy son. He's pretty much run out of friends, unless you can call that squalid cabal 'friends'.

With our after-dinner coffee, we had brandy snifters with Courvoisier, bringing this great day to a wonderful close, I guess because we can sleep with our consciences clean.

Summary
Smarmy Donald Rumsfeld, who doesn't give a flying brick for the safety of our troops, assures the country that everything's coming up roses in Iraq; no civil war looming. Yeah, and I still believe in the tooth fairy. So too, apparently, does the New England.