It is still beautiful out there

Essential thoughts

Today we would have headed to the airport to pick up our nephew, his wife, and their toddler. I've never met the toddler. I was looking forward to meeting her. Of course that has been cancelled, But it can be rescheduled.

I keep a fervid eye on my toilet paper rolls. I wonder how many my daughter has, but at the same time, I don't want to know, because there simply isn't any more to buy in the stores. What the hell is THAT all about?

I wake up in the middle of the night worrying about what my picky grandson will eat when they run out of his favorite food. I wonder if our great-granddaughter has enough formula. For crying out loud, get a grip, woman!

I am not complaining, I'm commiserating. We are all going through this together, all around the world. And I have it easy. I can stay home. 

In addition to doctors and nurses, my current heroes are hospital and nursing home janitors and cooks. I'm grateful for the trash collectors I see out there, and the delivery people who bring us goods. I appreciate my postman who continues to bring my mail. I feel for clerks behind counters at grocery stores and pharmacies, underpaid, overexposed, and unable to take time off.  Farm workers! 

We all take pride in our work, but it is humbling to discover just who the "essential service workers" are. 

I read a story about a young father crying in the grocery store, holding his infant. He couldn't find any formula.  Does anyone know how to make your own? Didn't our mothers do that in the 1950's? 

This statue is of a vineyard worker in Napa Valley, California.

Hell has frozen over.

Today's headline in the Orlando Sentinel: 

Disney World, Universal Orlando closing theme parks for rest of March as coronavirus concerns swell

But they are keeping open the free, business areas (Disney Springs, City Walk). I'm trying to figure out how that makes sense. 

Still, closing the parks is the right thing to do and I'm happy they are putting the public health before profits. I was wondering if that would happen.

Update: Sea World is closing, too.

Busy, busy, busy

What a week, right?  We live in exciting times, and I experienced all the highs and lows the unexpected excitement all this profound political frenzy generated.

Pete Buttigieg and Amy Klobuchar dropped out just before Super Tuesday. Elizabeth Warren dropped out a few days later. These were my top three candidates.

When Pete dropped out, I threw a big stinkin' fit. I'm not bragging, I'm just not going to lie.  This is what I posted:



Then Amy dropped out. Sheesh.

I appreciate the self-sacrifice of these two candidates. I am in awe of the swift strategic brilliance of it all. Who knew the Democrats could still pull together and show unity/strength? Anyway, I still had Elizabeth! She was probably the best candidate anyway, right? And I'm sorry, but I really, really, really want women (plural) to be in power. So I posted this:


I got a lot of sh** with that one from angry, threatened men, and women who do not want to appear threatening. They took their best shots. I took it on the chin. I got way more support and sympathy than criticism. 

Then Elizabeth Warren dropped out. I have no illusions about sexism, or misogyny in American politics. I've been a feminist since 1968. My heart no longer breaks. It pounds, hard and loud. Occasionally it spurts blood. Politics are messy. Some battles may never be won, but they still must be fought. 

I'm feeling pretty good today. I can step back and let the two remaining candidates try to convince me. It's almost a relief not having to care so much anymore. 

I'll vote for one of The Men in November.  I won't be excited for either, but I'll vote. If the winner doesn't choose a woman VP, I will feel betrayed and angry, but I won't be surprised.

My passion now will be doing what I can to ensure that the Democrats take over the majority in the Senate. If you can't do one thing, then look around for something else you CAN do. 

Today's fantasy satire alert

Okay, you guys are going to think I'm a complete nut, but for some reason that doesn't bother me.  Here goes my latest fantasy satire alert:

There's a bill that passed both the Florida State House and Florida Senate. It is being forwarded to our moronic Republican governor, Ron DeSatan DeSantis, to approve into law. It is a bill that, if passed, will require girls under 18 years old to get their parents consent before they can get an abortion. 

It does not take into account that a girl child might be raped, or that the father of the baby might be one of her parents or step-parents. Or a sibling. This is not the kind of information a young girl will want to tell her mother, especially if the mother is abusive. Don't kid yourself, some mother's don't take their daughter's side.

My smart aleck counter legislation:  

If this bill goes through, there should be a companion bill automatically giving the father of an underage child's fetus 9 months jail (for statutory rape) or probation time (if the father is an underage boy).  It takes two to tango.

Remember, if you're a good parent your daughter will always feel free to come to you for help. You don't need a law to make that happen, you just need to be a good parent.

I have to laugh

I have to laugh at myself, I am becoming such a stick in the mud. I was just telling one of my granddaughter's I am an extrovert. Now I'm thinking, am I? Did I change in retirement? Because now my preferred days are those when I don't have to leave the house.

The other day I had three things to do (horrors!):

1. Go to physical therapy in the morning
2. Go someplace fun with my daughter and grandson in the afternoon
3. Go to someone's house to celebrate an event in the evening

I woke up in the middle of the night worrying about having so many places to go and things to do the next day. I tossed and I turned. My mind would not stop.

All that worrying and missed sleep for naught. 

1.  PT was simple and straightforward
2. The afternoon with M and N was so much fun.
3. The event celebration was quite enjoyable, and we left early

How many times have we all done this, woken up filled with worry about something that doesn't seem the least bit worrisome the next morning?

What is it about the night that makes anxiety so potent? 

This 9 of swords tarot card image is from the following site: http://www.sacred-texts.com/tarot/xr/index. It is from an original "Pamela-A Deck" version of the Rider-Waite-Smith Deck. My use is for informational purposes only.

The Perfect Man Valentine

I was wandering around our local Publix (the ubiquitous Florida grocery store), looking for something to pick up as a Valentine for my Tom.  He usually buys me candy, so I didn't really want more candy in the house.  Plus, I count on him to help me eat mine. 

Romantic dinner, I thought!  Steak, baked potatoes, salad, wine, maybe grilled asparagus.  "Yeah," I thought to myself, "that's the ticket."

Imagine my delight when I came upon this heart shaped Ribeye steak in the meat cooler:

Happy Valentine's Day, Baby!

Ouch.

Aaack!  My upper arm still hurts, 5 months after that damn fall that broke my patella. When I fell last September, the med team asked if I hurt anything more than my knee. I was on drugs. I felt no pain. I said no.

It wasn't until I was off the strong meds, weeks later, that I realized I'd damaged my upper right arm when I used my arm to block my fall.

I have ignored the soreness for five months because healing the kneecap kind of made everything else pale in comparison. I didn't want to get off the couch. I didn't want to leave the house. I didn't want to see more doctors. Wheelchairs, walkers, ill-fitting braces, keeping my right leg stick-straight, watching The Great British Baking Show - there were SO many good reasons to ignore a sore arm.

My knee is mostly healed, but my arm still hurts every day. I could live with it. I could! Advil takes the pain away in 4 - 5 hour time slots. But pain wakes me up at night, and it hurts when I try to brush the back of my hair, or put on a sweater.  Enough!

I start physical therapy on my arm on Monday. 

Bitch, bitch, moan.  What a pain!

I guess I still have work to do.  

Getting back up

Like so many of you, I am fighting despair after the Senate acquitted Trump. We knew that was going to happen. Still, it sure has hit me hard. How about you?

Despair seems like a normal and reasonable reaction to injustice. We all feel it from time to time. Unfortunately, it is an emotion that will not sustain us. Despair won't make us stronger or happier. Left to it's own devices, despair will consume us. Then we lose. By all that is righteous and good, I want to win.

(I'm trying to give myself a good talking to.)

I've used the boxer analogy before because it is beautiful to me. It is the only sport I might be tempted to watch on TV. The fighters with the most "heart" are the ones who never give up. Sometimes they get knocked out, but there is always the next fight. Who knows what might happen next?

The odds are that 50% of future events will be good ones over a sufficient period of time. Nothing stays the same. History is cyclical. Blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean, those platitudes are actually shorthand for the truth. 

Now I'm going to go read a sword and sorcery fantasy and veg out for today. Maybe I'll make some cookies, or putter around in the garden. I think we all need a little R&R. We should be back to normal soon.

My uncle and my father about 1937

That race is run.

I recently learned two of my father's first cousins died. We weren't "close." However, we shared an interest in family history and I liked them. I hate "losing people."

They were both generous when asked genealogical questions. I received family stories and photos from each via email and snail mail. They solved a number of genealogical mysteries for me, giving me the low down on family rogues and reasons to be proud of some others.  I liked knowing they were still alive.

Ray was a double first cousin to my father. Ray's father was my paternal grandfather's brother. Ray's mother was my paternal grandmother's sister (i.e., 2 sisters married 2 brothers). He was a gentleman, kind and friendly. If curiosity and enthusiasm can be family traits, then I recognized those shared qualities in him. 

I knew Gary better. His father was another of my paternal grandfather's brothers. Gary was a polyglot who went to South Korea in 1964 to teach English and to study Asian languages. He never married, but he fell in love with South Korea. He stayed there for the rest of his life as a hired word-slinger, translating and editing. He had a passion for Esperanto, always hoping it could become a common language. Eventually he gave up his U.S. citizenship to become a citizen of South Korea. He said he had no axe to grind, being a citizen was just easier.

I wish we had corresponded more. There's so much more I want to know, and they were the only ones alive to tell me. I should have thanked them more profusely, and I would like to have had the opportunity to say goodbye. Now that race is run.

Death is so freakin' permanent.