Monthly Archives: June 2016

Drip….Drip….Drip….

They say it’s the first day of summer.

 

I say I’ll be back outside in October.

 

popcorn

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Why Are We Still Having This Conversation?

Reasoned discussions have not worked.  Yelling and crying have not worked.  Mass murders have not worked.  Petitions and outrage and marches and rallies and protests have not worked.  What will it take for our elected members of Congress to stop pandering to the money of the National Rifle Association and do what is in the best interest of ALL citizens instead of their bank accounts?

 

You have been elected to represent the voice of the people.  You have not been elected to revel in generous perks, a bonanza of health benefits, and a lifetime pension, nor to manipulate laws to your personal benefit resulting in voting yourself raises and changing election districts to ensure your continued enrollment in this exclusive club.  Yours is supposed to be a position of service, of carrying out the wishes of the people you represent, and to ensure the freedom of all of America’s people.  All. Of. Them.  Not just the ones who look and think and sound like you, but the ones who are very different from you and with whom you may not agree but who you are obligated to represent just the same.  That’s the oath you took.

 

Do you know what an oath is?  It’s a promise.  The same kind of promise the members of our military take when they swear to defend the United States and all its enemies, even though you have decided they’re not entitled to benefits anywhere near as generous as yours.  The same kind of promise a new citizen swears, even though they can be arrested for looking out of place in certain of these United States while you can drunkenly drive, kill someone, and still be assured of your job, position, and perks.

 

You are lawmakers.  Make the laws fair and equal.  Allowing one particular group that has enough cash to see you firmly tethered to their side through eternity unfettered access to the law-making procedure is beyond unconscionable, it is disgusting and contemptuous.  STOP ALLOWING THE SALE OF WEAPONS THAT CAN KILL 45 UNARMED INNOCENT CIVILIANS IN 60 SECONDS.

 

Was that so hard?

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Breathe, and Breathe Again

It’s a gorgeous Wednesday afternoon, about 2:00 EDT.  I actually sat down at my desk at 11:45 and fell down several rabbit holes of bill paying, checkbook wrangling, list making, and calendar updating, while simultaneously answering emails and phone calls.  And I’m not even a busy person!  I actually sat down to draw, but now I’m writing so instead I’ll show you the thing I drew last week:

2016-05-27 15.28.25

I have no idea what those lines are all around it, because they’re not on the photo I’m looking at!  Ah, well…..they say imperfection is its own kind of perfection.

And I’ve also completed the shawl that I’m just tickled with, and she’s here right now being America’s next top shawl:

It’s interesting to me how much weather plays a factor in my mood.  I like rainy days, I like the cool weather, I hate humidity (which I’m sure comes as a shock to you, gentle reader, as I’ve certainly never mentioned it before) and glaring sun, but give me a sunny day with the gentlest of breezes and I feel like SuperWoman.  I actually pulled some weeds and threw down some mulch!  Never mind that I’ll need a few hours to recuperate from that, it feels darn good.

I remember how much my mother enjoyed sitting outside, looking at her very small plot of garden and dreaming of what she could accomplish with more time and more energy.  She had some lovely roses that didn’t resemble any kind of prize-winner being as tall and spindly as they were, but the aroma was beyond heavenly and when she brought one into the house to sit in a tiny glass vase, she carried it like the precious treasure it was.  When she died I planted a rose bush, and I was devastated when it, too, died.  What has lived on, however, is a cutting from her philodendron plant (which she bought about 30 years ago) which is now four transplanted pots and three cuttings in water.  That’s kind of how I stay connected to her.  That, and watching old movies.

I think I hear a cup of tea calling my name…..

 

steve sentence

Steve is my spirit animal.

 

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