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connections - NYT

2026 Complaint

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Dear New York Times Games Editor,

My girl friend and I wish to register a complaint with reference to the January 1, 2026 Connections puzzle published at midnight.

Often in the early morning we exchange SMS messages to determine how well we slept over night. It is also a routine of ours to put our heads together and discover the categories to the connections puzzle published in your paper. I have subscribed to your paper for many years and I am writing to register a complaint.

This mornings purple category is without question sneaky and incorrect. “vegetables without a letter” is incorrect. “vegetables without some letters” is the correct category but this designation applies to many words and is therefore sneaky and unkind to duo solvers such as us. Shame on you!

Your clue category of “ALE EEK HIVE QUASH” was very puzzling to us both early this morning. I suggested to my love – words without the starting “S”. Shive is in fact a word albeit an obscure one, so obscure this word processing program underlines it with red squiggles. Similar to a bung it is used to close a barrel or container. It is also the past pluperfect of the noun shiv when used as a verb to indicate the style of injury enacted upon another in a reformatory situation.

Although “KALE” is a veggie of some note among the svelte exercise and tight glutes set, it is of no interest to those of us who began life in the previous millennium. Similarly “SQUASH” aka mixed vegetables on the restaurant menu is only of marginal interest, however, these are valid choices in a certainly weak category of vegetables without a letter.

Whoever orders one leek will certainly looked upon with disdain and if that same person were to request no chive be included in their sour cream for the baked potato, she or he would in all probability be banned for life from any available table. Further shame cast upon that person! It is with this last that I am called to register the most grievous complaint for chives although is in fact a plant it is more likely to be described as a spice or a garnish than an actual vegetable. As proof of this position, I offer no restaurant menu offers as a side item chive. Nor would that same institution include one chive mixed with sour cream to enliven the taste of an otherwise boring baked potato.

Further support of this position being unnecessary, I close my letter of complaint and bid you and yours a very merry and happy new year.

With best regards,

The Adjunct Wizard

connections - NYT

Carpe Diem in the new year.

Assumption based on Facts not in Evidence

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Often I hear people make statements about ideas they believe to be true. What is it within us that excites us to passionately argue for some idea that is merely opinion, our opinion, no one else’s opinion.

If I miss-type opinion it comes out onion. Onions are bulb root veggies that grow in layers. Onions become metaphors, plant metaphors, for other thoughts and ideas.

“That is just wrong on so many layers!” Have ever heard that comment? I have. I have made that comment before about something. What does that mean to you?

To me it merely means that the nuances of some idea are wrong.

Recently I posted on Facebook, the fact based forum where anybody may post any comment about any idea or article, the link to an article from the New York Times. My opening comment: “Remarkable in many ways… Makes you understand why he called previous guy sleepy Joe. I hadn’t thought about before but Donnie is like Elvis – he’s everywhere, he’s everywhere! He’s in Joan Rivers but he’s trying to get out!” set off an unintended firestorm of commentary among my grandchildren and their great uncle. Other family and friends leaped into the breach to defend, contrast, explain and even chastise the poster.

Admittedly I did not read the complete article. I did look at and read the pictures associated with it. That cursory examination supported my own view that once the weather forecast happened and the latest Donald Trump comments went by, there was little of interest to me on the morning news shows. I observed that our current president seems almost despondent if he is not leading the headlines.

It sounds unkind to my own ear when I write that but this assumption of mine is based on facts very much in evidence by the New York Times as well as other news sources. Mr. Trump refers to any derogatory news article as fake news – but is not all news gossip?

Much like the wizard in Dorothy’s dream about Oz, who says, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!” Mr. Trump diverts attention as much as he is able when the gossip is unflattering and attracts attention when it suits. Occasionally he has fired the messenger. It is great entertainment.

John F. Kennedy embraced the media of television when it suited him. Franklin Roosevelt’s medium was radio. Donald Trump embraces social media and select interviewers on select networks. Part of the entertainment value is listening to reporters inane questions and hearing his peculiar insults when they ask questions that although impertinent are meaningful. On his social media platform Truthsocial he can ignore any commentary and take the pulse of his supportive base. On camera he is compelled to respond regardless.

I started with opinions and onions. Some onions are sweet and other onions are, well, oniony. Onions build themselves in layers as they develop. Opinions develop differently and similarly. Opinions do not require facts to develop. Opinions do require support but not necessarily facts.

Facts solidify opinions either pro or con.

I have read the complete article.

The victorious man in the day of crisis is the man who has the serenity to accept what he cannot help and the courage to change what must be altered. – Reinhold Niebuhr

The debate rages onward.

Carpe Diem.

Winter and Wonder

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I have always wondered, well maybe always is not the correct word, whether I could be a creative writer. I write a lot and think to myself what a neat thing it would be to be a real writer.

Others have told me that I have a pleasant voice, an informative voice. And I, as an observer of life and my own self detect a certain ego trip, something that makes you puff up your chest, a feeling that makes you want to, because I am male, straighten up your sports jacket when others have said or written that to me. I smile inside when I think about it.

Over the years I have attended writers classes and workshops. They are all full of ideas and techniques for writing creatively. I think my brain is too technical and hung up on the details of spelling, grammar, structure and voice. I am comfortable with my own voice when telling a story and I am comfortable with a camera view and the third person. I have a hard time writing past the little red squiggly line that Word uses to say, “Hey I don’t recognize that word!” That little red line shouts at me from the page and I have to do something right then which, and I recognize this, often bumps me off the thought I had going.

You are shaking your head and thinking, you can turn that off. Yes, I know that I can disable the spell check thingy in Word or LibreOffice which is one word with a capital in the middle, but it produces a background anxiety which is unwarranted but there nevertheless. Keeping all of that in mind I can go on with my story.

On my blog which has turned into a running commentary of life of the past few years with Cheryl and about Cheryl I notice that I am slowly turning inward to examine myself. The grief and anxiety of the past half decade put me in the mindset of taking care of her and making that work. She is gone now. Although I wish she was not, she is. But that is not the creative writing part with which I started this essay this morning. I am still working on that. I know many people who do puzzles. Stories are my puzzle.

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Weather patterns in the Ohio valley in winter are gray and depressing. The occasional clearing sky lets in the sun. Muted browns and grays seem more so when the cardinals appear in the woods in back resting from attacking the bird feeder of my next door neighbor. The sky is bluer. Winter is in its early weeks but the light is returning to the planet and the cardinals know this. They will establish their territory to attract a mate. For now though it seems the females are waiting out the snowy season. The winter season has many weeks to go yet. And maybe, just maybe, one of many ideas floating around in my head will turn into a story before the end of it that I will keep instead of delete.

Carpe Diem

At the End of the Day

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“No matter what happens between now and then, tomorrow is another day” said the news anchor on “The Day.” I think, “Absolutely and thank you mister obvious.” I suppose it was his intent to sound profound. Walter Cronkite used to end with, “And that’s the way it is…”

I started using Carpe Diem a few years ago at the end of my commentary as a way to remind myself of the potential available to us to use each day. And yet, at the end of the day I spend little time reporting to myself the high points of the day. I also do not focus on the low points.

There are many things to think about at the end of the day. Am I brave enough to love again? Am I too open with others? What great things happened today? What did I learn today? What should I think about avoiding if I can next time? At the very end, I push all those and others away by reading a novel. It is a habit I developed over the last few years. About half of the time it worked. I was tired and Cheryl was asleep or mostly so when I came to bed. These days it always works. I have also become a critic of some fiction that I have selected to entertain myself.

Before reading some novel or ones that are not novel at all to me, however, other actions take over my interest. I am in charge of myself and what I watch and what is entertainment and what is not. I was disappointed in the movie version of “Wicked” for example. I think there was a rush to get a snippet of a story onto the big screen that is in many ways incomplete. Money people for movie producers need a return of money to keep going. I think I was greatly disappointed. The singing was great but the story line went nowhere. I have some of these projects.

Quite often but not when I was working I did not finish some project. I have many of these little abandoned projects (mostly little electronic things) scattered on my work surface in my office. I have a pleasantly cluttered office and once in a while I straighten things for a bit in order to find a place for another soon to be abandoned gizmo. And yet through it all I am able to keep track of important actions that I need to do to take care of myself – pay bills, cook, shop for food, laundry – the mundane tasks of life. It may be that I am not so disorganized as I perceive myself to be.

Sometimes my blog is a stream of conscience construct. This may be one of those times.

Many people I have known were, or seemed so, very organized. I am not – at least in my mind I am not. Is it okay to be un-dis-mis-organized? (Cheryl was so good at organization.) The answer is yes. Mis-organization, as I like to call it, indicates to me that I am often not satisfied with the path I have taken to somewhere. Something does not feel quite right. I look at it as taking the next fork in the road. How many forks are there in my road? Where is this trip around the sun taking me?

It may be that I am merely constantly learning about myself and this new life without Cheryl.

Carpe Iter!

Forty Two

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Is the answer to life and the universe but what was the question? Deep thought…

However I got there originally I rediscovered the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” by Doug Adams (H2G2). His trilogy of five books (yes, five) I read partially earlier in our married life. The children where small. Life was chaotic as it often is with small people around. I never finished the 5 before now.  And the story has reappeared in my reading list. It takes me off of life for a bit. Its depiction of the universe is philosophical and geeky, perhaps even, odd but why not? The story is chaotic.

My life currently seems odd to me without Cheryl. It is time to shake it up.

A big part of life is the journey. It is the part of life that is often ignored. It is important to get there fast. Wherever there is and sometimes when there only disappointment is available. At this time I resolve to enjoy and document the journey. It is early for resolutions.

I am just thinking about what I am thinking about. And putting my notes out there for all to see.

The Deep Thought in the book says that the answer is 42. It also says that the question is unclear.  Suppose I plan a bit for the future but do not be consumed by planning. Tough for a retired engineer. We’re trained planners. A good job is a job that has few to none awshits due to excellent planning.

No plans exist in H2G2. The characters are given to chance in the universe. Ford, Arthur and Zaphod are off to get something to eat.

It is time to put up the Christmas decorations.

Carpe Diem.

Hurry, Haste

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What is your hurry?

I ask myself that question several times per day. What is your hurry?

My encouragement to myself is “what is your hurry?” At this stage of my life the answer is I do not know. (IDK)

I do know that when I close my eyes in the sunny shade of these woods and empty my mind as best I can, and then I open my eyes again the evergreens are a brilliant color with a deeper blue. Why is that? IDK. I have hurried through life without looking.

Why did I pick this trail for today’s activity? A day ago I wrote that I am not a child anymore and I am not youthful but I still see a world of wonder with youthful eyes. I remember long ago when Cheryl and I came here we hiked this trail more quickly than I do today. I am not in a hurry. Maybe that memory brought me up the cliff face. IDK. Today I stopped often to rest but also to look, think, remember and read and listen while I read.

I selected several books to bring with me on this retreat and personal retrospective. I selected first “So long and Thanks for the Fish” by Douglas Adams. I have read a couple of the others from the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy. There are five books altogether and the theme is cynicism and simultaneous mediocrity as we splash through life. Wonko the Sane explained why he became a hermit – “The sign read: hold stick near the center of its length. Moisten pointed end in mouth. Insert in tooth space blunt end next to gum. Use gentle in-out motion. It seemed to me,  he said, that any society that had so far lost its head to put such a detailed set of instructions on a package of toothpicks, was no longer a civilization that I could live in and stay sane.” We have a lot of things like that going on. “Caution HOT!” is printed on the side of the McDonald’s coffee cup.  I always think, “I hope so.” Why are warning signs like this posted? I passed several today on railings erected along the trail. The other side of the rail was a sheer drop. “DANGER No Entrance ” is printed on the sign.  IDK. I did not hurry through the small volume. Several times walking today I found myself reading on a convenient log or outcrop of rock.


Why did I select this book to read first? IDK but it has been many years since I read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and the absurdity of the story line is compelling. Maybe it is time to review my life and start anew. Maybe I long for the next great thing. IDK. There is no hurry.

There will be time to take time for wonder. There is no hurry.

Carpe Diem.