While you’re waltzing in your ballroom, we’re waiting in a breadline

Our food banks are empty, your banquets are full

Full of caviar and champagne, we would like you to explain

How the masses will find enough food for us all

A party a la Gatsby was particularly nasty

Just when our food stamps were all zeroed out

like the end of the roaring twenties we started saving pennies

at this rate we’ll need them, no doubt

You say your grand ballroom is your highest priority

That’s not what you promised the country’s majority

We couldn’t care less about your balls

But we want Medicare for all!

If you’d bother to read history you’d find it’s not a mystery.

Why the people began revolutions

it engendered such revenge among the Russians and the French

it ended in mass executions

You tore down the east wing, pretended you’re a king

And hung tacky crap in the oval

You think your taste is great I do not hesitate to say

That office resembles a brothel

You say your grand ballroom is your highest priority

That’s not what you promised the country’s majority

We couldn’t care less about your balls But we want Medicare for all!

While you’re waltzing in your ballroom, we are waiting in a breadline

Our food banks are empty, your bank accounts full

Full of billions in crypto and all your damn grift, oh

we’ve had enough of your ridiculous Bull.

Yes, we’ve had enough of your

Lies and coverups and scandals, and corruption, and threats, and name-calling

And ridiculous Bull.

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a while now. I’ve been stalling because even I think I sound like a demented doomsayer when I bring up this subject. You might be tempted to think I have drunk some Conspiracy Kool-aid. But the evidence is just too overwhelming. So I’ll hold my nose and jump in.

Based on what the Trump administration is doing and saying, I’m starting to believe they are attempting a slow genocide of a large percentage of American people: those who are not million- or billionaires, not white, straight, and Christian, and above all, not Republican (or what now passes for it). They are attempting to remake our country in their own image - their idea of Utopia - and whitewash history to effectively make it seem that the US never had Black, Hispanic, gay, lesbian, disabled, trans, or immigrant people who made any positive contributions to the country, or who even existed here. Any mention of slavery, or indigenous genocide, or homophobia, or pedophiles or misogyny, anything negative about white Christians is being erased. America’s past has, according to these folks, been perfect. Our Republican leaders have done nothing wrong, nothing illegal. There will be no learning from our past because that past will not exist. George Orwell would be proud. Or horrified.

Most of us stand in the way of these goals, and the Constitution definitely stands in the way. I don’t think it was an accident that Trump did not put his hand on the Bible during his 2025 inauguration when he swore to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution. It’s tantamount to crossing his fingers.

Project 2025 is a pretty devastating agenda. I don’t think it comes right out and proclaims a plan of the genocide of vast numbers of citizens, but that could be the result of these cuts and policies. How will they get rid of a majority?

• By cutting or eliminating healthcare, food safety and communicable disease programs, FEMA, agriculture - especially family farms - social security, cancer research, Medicaid, SNAP, CDC, education, EPA, NOAA; discouraging or eliminating vaccines, denying climate change and ending funding for all work on it, tossing pandemic response plans, and much more. These programs and agencies that protect our health and safety are all under attack or have been completely eliminated.

• The blatant lies coming from Trump and his sycophantic cabinet will get a lot of us killed. Lies about vaccines; about the safety of our food, air, and water; about terrorist drug activity in the Caribbean and Pacific, possibly inciting a war with Venezuela; Mike Johnson has learned to lie from the best of them, with a straight face (his chubby little cheeks do get quite red when he lies though).

• The government shutdown has increased the potential for a massive number of deaths with healthcare and food benefits reduced to nothing. Who’s to say Little Mikey - aka Elf on a Shelf [HCR] - will ever re-convene Congress?

• Bunkers: The Presidential Emergency Operations Center - the bunker that sits under the now-demolished east wing of the White House - is scheduled for a major upgrade, and the military will be heavily involved in the design and construction. Apparently this was a bit of a secret, which is why they needed to eliminate the east wing quickly hoping no one would notice that the “greatest ballroom anyone’s ever seen” is a ruse for creating a militarized bunker capable of withstanding and responding to just about any kind of attack, natural disaster, or citizens’ rebellion. It will have accommodations for a command structure - and you can bet Trump’s billionaire donors will be invited to the subterranean party, unless they have their own bunkers waiting for them.

  Billionaires are reportedly building upscale bunkers in preparation for whatever is coming. No doubt all the tech bros are in on the secret. These kinds of bunkers are way out of the price range for average Americans.

We’ve joked a bit about RFK wanting to kill us all. Now it just seems like reality.

Thoughts?

Ballroom Grand Opening 2028.

Criminals in power some fresh from FOX stations

Threats and hate speech, and takin’ away free speech

History and diversity systematically bleached,

The Constitution breached

It’s time to impeach!

Don’t fall for the lies that’s how democracy dies

He’s got his eyes on the nobel peace prize HAH!

If you dare to Criticize, there will be consequences

Congress won’t come to their senses

so the fourth reich commences.

And Charlie Kirk: You think he’s original? Sounds like a racist

nothing new here, they’ve all got the same playlist.

Masked fascists grabbin people off the street

You can bet they ain’t puttin’ ‘em in a Hilton suite

Alligator Alcatraz, third world gulags

no due process, treated worse than mad dogs

Supreme court says, go ahead, deport ‘em,

If they’re brown or speaking foreign

And the scandal, so obscene, Gislaine and Epstein

trafficked girls of fourteen, fifteen, sixteen;

We know trump was on the scene

on Epstein’s isle, it’s all in the files;

why won’t you release ‘em?

Where’s a leaker when you need ‘em?

He’s president but wants to be a king …got the right wing kissing his ring.

Got resentment for the first amendment but he’ll take the fifth if he’s a defendant, unrepentant

His regime takes its cues from Putin with no scrutiny,

shootin’ off their mouths and lootin’ the treasury.

As commander in chief

it’s his belief he can send out a tweet to order a fleet

Big military hero? HA! With spurs on his bones,

got out of Vietnam cuz he’s got no cajones

Dept of defense, what hegseth represents makes no sense,

He’d rather play offense.

The dept of war gonna settle a score but they got no esprit de corps.

And the dept of HHS, RFK’s makin’ such a mess -

relying on conspiracies over scientists and docs

But he is NOT takin’ away my shot!

Elon and DOGE rakin’ in the dough

using a wrecking ball puttin’ on a show.

And all those cowards that are bendin’ the knee

Law firms, Columbia, ABC

National Guard in the streets of DC

Damn, I need a scorecard, gonna need a vanguard!

Any questions? Got suggestions? Had enough? Time to get tough!

Don’t freak out! SPEAK OUT!

I’ve been dependent on a wheelchair (my indoor ride) for nine years and a mobility scooter (outdoor ride) for fifteen. All along I’ve had a love/hate relationship with these tools. I love that they’ve freed up parts of my life and expanded my world so I can go places I couldn’t for a long time, and so I can get around the house (at least, the main floor) with relative ease, with no pain, no exhaustion. And anyway, I can no longer walk even a few steps, so a cane or walker doesn’t work for me at all anymore.

The hate bit is mostly that I’m still prevented from doing a lot of activities that I dearly love and miss - hikes in the forest,* long walks on the beach,** dancing, and accessing many venues, houses, or shops that aren’t wheelchair-accessible. The scratches and dents on the walls where I’ve not quite made the turn or the doorway adds to the aggravation for both Laurie and me.

Backstory

It’s been a gradual decline in my mobility. The short story is: I have nerve damage from radiation treatment 24 years ago. (If you want to know the whole history of it - and then some - you can read it on my blog.) The official diagnosis is ‘radiation induced lumbar plexopathy,’ which translates to “the nerve bundle in your pelvis was accidentally hit by the radiation beam -oopsie! - and it fucked up pretty much everything below your navel.” Soooo - bladder, lower intestines (what was left of them), legs, feet - only the lower half of my body though!

The first indications were numbness and tingling in my feet and severe foot drop, which led to falls. Lots of falls. I didn’t break any bones, but I’m pretty sure it contributed to a torn meniscus in one of my knees requiring a minor surgery to repair. So, the cane came into my life. It probably kept me from falling more, and also served to alert people in crowded spaces that I might need a little extra room to navigate. Then came the walker - totally unbidden. A nurse at the hospital apparently put in the order when she saw how I was struggling to walk, and it was delivered to our house unexpectedly. Oh, how I hated having to use it! But again, it kept me mostly upright and afforded me a seat when I needed a break.

I struggled with every advancement of mobility device. I balked about getting a scooter until I realized how much freedom it gave me - I could go anywhere in our neighborhood with ease.

But I couldn’t use it in the house, so I was still using the walker to get around inside. I finally decided it would be better for me to use a motorized wheelchair as walking was causing me so much pain and fatigue. My first power wheelchair - the only one Medicare would approve and pay for - was a Beast. Way too big for our little house, and not very manageable. I did like the built-in “elevator” that would raise my seat about six inches - handy for standard kitchens, etc. I eventually wised up, with the encouragement of our OT friend Kara, and got a much smaller chair with a much smaller footprint, though I still manage to run into walls occasionally.

Getting around

I’ve found a lot of joy in “scooting” around the neighborhood. It’s a great way to see and photograph what’s blooming in the spring, what trees are turning in the fall. In winter, if there’s any ice or snow, I’m probably out of luck. I can’t manage our ramp in the ice (going down is exhilarating; getting back up is impossible), and with just a couple inches of snow, I need one of those snow plow attachments - the scooter has a pretty low clearance. Fortunately, we don’t get a lot of snow in Portland anymore.

I generally feel pretty upbeat when I’m cruising the ‘hood, so I mostly have a smile on my face. That, along with my purple and blue hair often gets positive vibes in return. The notion of invisibility of older - and especially disabled - women tends to go out the window. I have joyful conversations with strangers, often when they rave about my hair color. When I scooted with Liza (our little dog who died last year), I would often get comments and smiles and laughs. Wish I had a dollar for every time I heard, “Is she pulling you?” Our current dog, Bernie, doesn’t appreciate the scooter so much.

Where I do run into accessibility issues is in places with very high counters (coffee shops) or the hot food bar in our grocery store where the labels are too high and at an angle, so I can’t read ingredients or even what the food is. I pointed this out to the deli manager and his response was, “oh wow, I never thought of that!” Duh. Was anything done to remedy it? No, not even after many email exchanges with another manager over the last couple of years. I guess it’s low priority.

I do find lots of help in stores though; often people will ask me if I need any help reaching something. And often I do. I also don’t hesitate to ask employees or even other shoppers for help. So far no one has turned me down! People are usually happy to help. This restores my faith in humans.

*There are some excellent resources for PWD (People with Disabilities). Locally, we have a fabulous group, Access Recreation, that created a website that lists some 36 accessible trails in the Portland/Vancouver area with details about getting there, routes, what the trails are like for wheelchairs, even videos of some areas. It’s such a valuable resource for those of us with mobility devices that love to explore the outdoors.

** A couple of other resources for outdoor accessibility are:

David’s Chair - they provide tank-track chairs that can be used ON THE BEACH and on forest trails, even rocky areas. One can reserve a chair for a two-hour block. There is NO COST! What a fabulous service! I’ve yet to avail myself of this; they schedule times at different beaches and I haven’t been able to make it work for me yet. But I can’t wait to get on one of these tanks!!! They are a non-profit and can really use donations if you’re so inclined.

We also have some beaches here in Oregon that have Mobi-mats. These make it possible to traverse some sand on the beach, but they are limited to the length of the mat. I’ve tried out several of them; some are better than others in terms of access to the mat and how well they are maintained. The first time I used one, it was wondrous to actually be on the beach, but…then what?

Beach wheelchairs are available at multiple locations on the coast. These are great, but you must have a team to push you. There is no way to use the chair independently, and depending on the beach, it can take a lot of muscle to push them up a sandy hill.

Creative endeavors

There was a time early on when disability combined with depression kept me from pursuing much in the way of creativity, which I’ve always thrived on. It was clear to me that performing was out of the question because of fatigue; I had to give up singing in the choir I loved because of accessibility issues. My voice lost quite a bit of strength and became less dependable, and arthritis has made guitar playing challenging. But! I can still make collages and photos and write essays and poetry — and SONGS, once again! I had a twenty year lapse of writing songs, but when I started taking songwriting classes from Matt Meighan two years ago, I started writing again. This makes me SO HAPPY!!! Some of them are one-offs, but some are real keepers. I’ve had lots of inspiration during this time of chaos; Mr. tRump offers a lot of grist for the mill, and I love writing humorous political songs.

Here are the lyrics to one new song. Our assignment was to write an ode to our first or our favorite car. I took a different route:

That’s How I Roll (a blues tune)

Well I’m rollin’ down the road, Don’t have no Chevy, & don’t have no Ford

Just my trusty ol’ wheelchair yeah, That’s how I roll, yeah that’s how I roll

Now I get around town in my chair I can get from here to there

Don’t need nobody, no, no Cuz that’s how I roll, rock and roll

[Bridge]

I’m a chairwoman, a roll model, and I just keep rollin’ along

with my super power….I couldn’t be prouder

(spoken) Walking is so overrated

You might ask me how I do it I say there’s nothin’ to it

I have no choice so I roll with it, so that’s how I roll, that’s how I roll

Now this guy tells me I can’t come in there, he frowns and points to my wheelchair

so I frown and point to all those stairs and I say, I’m not the problem here

it’s this place, it’s inaccessible, and that’s just unacceptable

That’s how I roll, yeah that’s how I roll.

©️Terri Grayum 2023

Keep on rollin’.

I am painting my bedroom. I’ve lived in this sweet little apartment for 11 years - the longest I've lived anywhere. I love it here in this quiet building on the edge of a lively neighborhood, but I have grown weary of white walls, and this seems like the ideal time to put some vibrant color into my bedroom. I choose a few shades of purple for walls, ceiling, and a couple pieces of furniture. Fortunately, it is a small room.

This has been my “sick room” for almost a year as I've recovered from the cancer trifecta: surgery, radiation, chemo. In addition to holding some pretty miserable days and nights, this room also holds a mishmash of furniture — a hulking black bookcase, an unpainted wobbly nightstand, and a dresser painted a ghastly bright orange by some previous owner. The window coverings are the standard apartment venetian blinds, circa 1950, gone an unpleasant yellowish after hanging here for years. It is time for a major change. I need this to be my healing room now.

In preparation for this redecoration, I find myself shopping in places I rarely go, such as paint and hardware stores and fabric shops. I borrow tools from friends – a belt sander, step ladder, paint rollers and trays, goggles, and masks. A neighbor helps me carry the dresser down to the building’s basement. It is cheaply made, so it’s light but awkward on the stairs. I suit up, attach the sandpaper, and begin the arduous task of removing every speck of the ugly orange paint.

*

In cancer treatment, the goal of extreme procedures is to remove every speck of cancer cells without killing the patient. If any cells are left behind, there will likely be a recurrence, one of the scariest words in the cancer lexicon. This year I have been sliced open three times, radiated, and poisoned, poked and prodded. Surgeons have remodeled my intestines. I’ve had enough blood drawn to keep a vampire fed for months. Life has revolved around medical appointments and procedures, lab work, hospital stays, hours in the comfy chemo “suite,” and CT scans.

Though radiation was a daily occurrence for six weeks, once the custom mold was made to position my body on the table for the beam to hit the precise spot, the actual radiation took mere moments. (The life-changing effects of this procedure, however, will not present for several years.)

*

Once satisfied I have removed every bit of orange paint, it’s time for a break. The sander has vibrated my hands to the point of numbness, and the grating, grinding, screaming sound will ring in my ears for hours. When I remove the goggles and mask, I glance in the mirror and burst out laughing. I look like an orange raccoon! (My bright orange face would have taken on a completely different humor a decade later.) ****

*

Post-diagnosis: The first procedure I am subjected to is having a port inserted into a vein in my chest. It’s a handy little spot to withdraw blood and to inject all manner of drugs and toxins into my bloodstream without having to mine for a vein every time. It will remain a part of me for a year. They give me a device the size of an Instamatic ^TM camera (remember those?); it fits in a fanny pack (remember those??) and spurts chemo into my port, one mini-dose every 60 seconds. I can hear a slight whirring when my hit is delivered; I don’t feel anything, but the doses are cumulative. The chemo works in concert with the radiation, so they tell me. At this point, who am I to argue with anything they do to my body? I am officially on the cancer hamster wheel. The little device is plugged into me 24/7, and I must figure out a technique to shower without getting it wet.

After a few weeks I am feeling the effects of the chemo/radiation combo: fatigue, inability to eat much without regret, nausea, diarrhea, all the usual symptoms of toxicity and radiation poisoning.

*

The prep of the dresser is complete, and I’m ready to apply paint. I assemble all my tools: brushes, stir sticks, and two colors of paint: one a soft lavender, one off-white. The first paint stroke is the hardest; it takes a while to get into the flow. It’s quiet in the basement so I can hear the brush as it glides across the top, a gentle whs. whssshh, back and forth. It becomes hypnotic. The front and sides of the dresser are not as straightforward, and the drawers have their own complications. I carefully label each one as I will alternate the paint colors:

Dresser drawers

Purple 1L

White 1R

White 2L

Purple 2R

etc.

When I am done painting the dresser, I’m encouraged by the results, but I spend a ridiculous amount of time searching for just the right drawer pulls. I finally find them in an obscure little hardware store in northwest Portland, and they are perfect – translucent purple knobs in the shape of flowers.

*

Shortly after my diagnosis, friends and family show up in so many wonderful ways: drive-by singing, meals, lots of visits and cards. One friend pays for a house cleaner to come in once a week; one drives me to my radiation sessions every morning for six weeks; there are healing circles, and many friends and family members contribute squares to a healing quilt that my friends Gwenlyn and Susan sew together (it has lots of purple in it!). When I wrap it around my body, I feel held by loving hands.

*

I work up the courage to start on the walls and ceiling. I paint the walls one shade darker than the dresser, and decide on a deep, dark purple for the ceiling, like the night sky. The ceiling is not a high one, so I don’t need to rig up Sistine Chapelesque scaffolding; I can reach it with a couple of steps up the ladder and a paint roller with a long handle. What I don’t count on are the muscle spasms in my neck and arm from looking up and reaching, and in my legs from all the ladder upping and downing. I wonder, not for the first time, why I didn’t enlist some friends for a paint party. I also realize that with this dark color, I’m probably not getting my rental deposit back if I ever move.

*

The evening after my surgery, I have a lot of visitors – visiting with each other, mostly! One of the nurses asks them to keep it down, and I finally kick them all out. I need rest! I have tubes and drains sticking out of me, and I have no idea what they’re connected to or what they do. Stuff goes in, stuff comes out…that’s about all I can track.

Early in my hospital stay, a couple of friends decide we need to decorate my room. Nan brings twinkle lights to hang on the bed, and others bring chachkas, flowers, balloons, a teddy bear. With the colorful quilt on the bed, it is quite festive! Visitors and nurses declare, “This can’t be a hospital room!” It definitely cheers me up. At night, it has a calming effect.

*

When I finish painting the ceiling, I track down some glow-in-the-dark stars that I apply with a dab of clay. If I’m going to have a night sky, I might as well have stars too! I even fashion the Big Dipper around the middle of the sky – this tickles me, and wish I knew more constellations.

I replace the big black bookcase with a wicker one I score at a garage sale. I decide to use spray paint on it. Do you have any idea how much paint wicker absorbs? I think I used 15 cans of white paint on a bookshelf 6x3x2. Of course, I paint the wood shelves purple.

*

I am grateful for a private hospital room - it remains quiet, which I need. Friends respect my need for rest and quiet when they visit . One comes to paint my toenails; another plays a song I request (he had to learn it first). One gives me an acupuncture treatment, another a foot massage. The room becomes a sacred, healing space.

*

My final task is to make curtains to cover the venetian blinds. I seldom have the blinds open, since my first-floor bedroom looks out on the courtyard – it doesn’t feel very private.

I find the perfect material – dark purple with tiny stars and nebulae a lighter purple. When I put the curtains up, I declare the room finished. My beautiful quilt is on the bed, and it is the perfect touch. I have transformed this room into a sacred, healing space.

And I begin to heal.

The prompt: "I believed my own story...."

I believed my own story,

that everything would be OK,

it was all exaggeration and puffery

from a malignant narcissist with no empathy,

no recognition that anyone on this planet

was smarter or better than he.

One who thinks he has all the answers

brings a level of chaos ‘like nobody’s ever seen.’

One who lies so easily and consistently

you think he might even believe his own story.

It was funny at first,

this bloviating bloated blubbering bag of baloney.

Now - not funny.

There is too much at stake - globally, nationally,

constitutionally, legally —

he’s made a mockery of democracy

and made clear there is no justice

if you aren’t a white straight rich christian man.

(And by christian I mean you sell bibles made in China

and stand in a sacred place holding an upside down bible

with the cameras rolling for a photo op).

Character means nothing. Morals? a joke.

Compassion? non-existent. The law? for suckers.

How did we get here? I ask this, and I hear others ask too.

I know there is a logical path that began years ago —

And no one person, no one party or administration is to blame or is blameless.

It’s like a wave slowly building far out at sea

Until it lands on shore as a tsunami.

Nothing can slow it, nothing can stop it.

It will do a lot of damage.

And then it will recede.

What will be left?

Will it be salvageable?

Will we recognize it?

Naming is powerful. Let’s call their actions what they are: --------Fascism. We cannot be afraid to use the big scary words, such as:

-White supremacy – what else would you call it when they are firing all the people of color in leadership roles and erasing or whitewashing the history of slavery and Jim Crow?

-Misogyny – same story, women in leadership are being fired, women’s rights are eroding. To hear some congressmen talk, The Handmaid’s Tale is a guidebook. Women should not have careers, they should only have babies.

-Class war – cutting services that help poor people (in service of tax breaks for billionaires), eliminating food and medical aid to developing countries.

-Mind control – banning innocent words from government documents, words like ‘accessible’ and ‘women.’ Banning books.

It is beginning to look like Nazi Germany. Universities, law firms, media companies, tech companies are obeying in advance. Immigrants are being disappeared, sent to concentration camps with no due process. Congress is becoming obsolete. Courts are under attack. There are few guardrails for a spiteful, power-hungry, convicted felon- dictator.

I know this sounds bleak. It feels bleak when I give it my attention. Like a train wreck, it’s hard to look away. And we shouldn’t look away for long. But we also need respite from the chaos. To breathe deeply, to be with community, with trees, with beauty, with joy. In times like these, laughter is resistance. Let’s laugh until we cry, then cry until we laugh. And RESIST.

I know it’s a pendulum in a left to right cycle. But it seems this pendulum has a long way to go before it swings the other way.

###

In just eight days Trumpty Dumpty has done so much damage, it’s not clear it can be put back together again. And it’s all right out of the Project 2025 playbook (which he claimed to know nothing about; Lie #126,984). But I don’t have to tell you what’s happened in the last eight days, unless you’ve been off-grid and hiding in a cave since the inauguration (which is not a bad idea).

Just wondering: Do you think it was really a mistake that he left his hand off the Bibles when he took the oath? I don’t, I think it was premeditated. And why didn’t Roberts refuse to go on until he put his hand on them?

ANYWAY. It is time to strategize.

1. Learn all you can about what is really happening - find news sources that are trustworthy. There are many of them here on Substack - Heather Cox Richardson, Joyce Vance, Elizabeth Cronise McLaughlin, The Contrarian, and people or organizations that these folks recommend. (Please don’t get your news from Facebook or TwitterX.) Some of the mainstream press have become unreliable - we’ve canceled our subscriptions to the New York Times and the Washington Post after they drank the Kool-Aid. TV news is largely unreliable.

2. Get your like-minded friends, neighbors, relatives, co-workers together and make some plans. Create protections for those who will certainly be affected - immigrants, LGBTQ, - especially trans folks - women, disabled folks, people of color, elders, chronically ill, cancer patients, diabetics. These MAGA fools want to go back to pre-Civil War era, when white men ruled and everyone else could suck lemons. And no one got a “handout.”

3. Let your Congress critters know how you feel about issues that affect our lives. You can find their addresses and phone numbers here: https://www.congress.gov/ Call them if you are a constituent - calling or emailing someone who isn’t your Congress critter will result in…nothing. They won’t even count your vote. Calls are good; letters and postcards are good; email is so-so. If you live in a Blue state, send your critters thank you notes or calls for voting for democracy.

4. Pay attention to what’s happening locally - city, county, and state governments have more power than you might think. If you think you would make a good city councilperson or a state legislator, find out what’s involved in making that happen. Run for the school board or the library board - book bans happen in these meetings, and decision makers need to hear opinions about such things. Volunteer at your elections division. Yes, we’ve all heard the harsh realities of some of those positions (thanks, MAGA) but we can’t let them scare us away from our right to participate.

5. This should really be #1: Take care of yourself! We are being flooded with bad devastating news, and you won’t be able to help anyone if you’re too exhausted to do anything.

   1. Rest when you need to. Get a good night’s sleep, every night if possible.

   2. Take a break from the news once in a while (or more!)

   3. Spend time with friends for some food, laughter, and a reality check.

   4. If you have a hobby or two, enjoy them often.

   5. Get a massage or other body work - acupuncture, Reiki, craniosacral are all great..

   6. Drink lots of water!

   7. Eat your vegetables.

   8. Play!

   9. Weather permitting, spend time outdoors, preferably around some trees and/or water. Nature is the best medicine.

   10. Read good books or articles - funny, inspiring (my next read is How We Learn to Be Brave by Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde - if you don’t know who she is, ask me),

   11. Listen to music you love.

We need to prop each other up and, in addition to the work, find some joy - yes, joy! It’s still here. As Joyce Vance says, we’re in this together.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

I was surprised/not surprised and rather pleased to see, among 50 bestsellers, the following titles:

• On Tyranny

• 1984

• Farenheit 451

• Parable of the Sower

• The Handmaid’s Tale

• Animal Farm

• The Constitution

• Anne Frank

• All About Love

• How Fascism Works

• Love in a F*cked-up World

• Zinn’s People’s History of the US

• The Demon-Haunted World (Carl Sagan)

• Freedom is a Constant Struggle

• Brave New World

• Indigenous People’s History of the US

How many of them have you read?

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

It’s also groundhog day ala the Bill Murray movie — when I open my eyes, it’s the same scene over and over. The Orange Grinch just won’t go away.

I’ve given a lot of thought to what my task is in this resistance. What can an elder woman with a disability and chronic pain and illness do? Marching isn’t a viable option for me anymore. I used to love our protest marches here in Portland, it felt good to be a part of a sometimes huge group of people with a common vision, and it felt good to be loud and sometime outrageous. But I’ve found that “marching” in a wheelchair is not a lot of fun - I mostly get to look at people’s butts, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed in the middle of a crowd with limited options for quick exits.

I’m no good on the phone. I can’t travel to where the action is. I’m not so brilliant at confrontation. I can send money to the causes, but that’s a sort of hollow endeavor (I do it anyway).

What I am good at is writing: essays, songs (the protest variety), letters. I think a dose of humor goes a long way to make cracks in people so the message can get in, and I LOVE writing humorous pieces. (See Little Boxes.) Also serious ones (See Daughters and Sons).

These are serious times. But I could not bring myself to watch the shitshow in real time the last few months. I’ve been doing a lot of mindfulness meditation and very little listening to or reading of news. Now that I’m feeling more grounded and able to regulate my emotions, I’m ready to take it in and turn it into things creative rather than feeling angry and scared all the time. A little deep breathing goes a long way!

So buckle up, Buttercup! I’m back, I’m mad, and I’m ready to raise hell!

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

You’re a madman Mr Trump, as mad as you can be!

You’re a grifter and a felon, with all the crap you’re sellin’

Mr. Trump:

The three words that best describe you

Are as follows, and I quote

Stink!

Stank!

Stunk!

You nauseate me Mr. Trump, you’re hateful, vile, and cruel

You’re a rapist and fraud and you think you’re sent by god

Mr Trump:

god wouldn’t send a bloviated lying criminal like you

if you were the last man on earth!

You're a monster, Mr. Trump, your heart's an empty hole!

Your brain is filled with dollar signs, you were born without a soul,

Mr. Trump:

I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!

You are evil Mr Trump, as wicked as they come

You’re as charming as a cobra, as slippery as an eel

Mr. Trump:

You’re a rotten orange with a moldy black peel!

You're a mean one, Mr. Trump, you really are a prick!

And you sure know how to pick ‘em

‘cause your cabinet is sick

Mr. Trump:

You’d be sitting in a prison cell if your lawyers weren’t full of dirty tricks!

(audio coming tomorrow)

The prompt from my writing group this morning was "everything remembers." I thought this an appropriate response:

January 6th

This is a day of remembering

that which some would like us to forget

or to remember differently, as a

“day of love” rather than a

day of terror, violence, and insurrection.

How has truth become so warped here

that a group can tell so many lies against

what we saw with our own eyes?

Everything remembers.

Our hearts remember the fear of a coup

right here in the US, where events like that

can’t possibly happen

but almost did.

Our eyes remember

what we saw when the mob attacked police

and took over the chambers

and went hunting for elected members.

Our ears remember the violent shouts of

“Hang Mike Pence” “Where’s Nancy?”

and the screams of police officers

as they were beaten, and worse.

Our tears remember

the possibility of our democracy dying

at the hands of a tyrant.

Everything remembers.

And now that tyrant will once again

take an oath he has no intention of keeping.

Will he swear on a Trump bible (made in China)?

01-06-2025

But first: health news

I’ve had a couple of medical procedures the last couple of months: one was cataract surgery! Just my left eye for now; eye #2 isn’t nearly as bad, so will wait till next year for that one. The aftercare entailed many eye drops many times a day for a few weeks. The result is better vision in that eye, yea! The surgery itself was quick and easy, though the thought that my actual eye was actually being cut by an actual scalpel was actually weird! Then I got a new prescription for glasses - I had a blast picking out the frames, and ended up with something I’m delighted with. I’m also wearing them almost every waking hour now, which I never did with my other glasses, even though it rendered me visually impaired (yes, I did wear them when driving!). I’m getting used to the progressive lenses, which was always a struggle for me before.

The other minor procedure was for trigger finger (caused by the swelling of the tendon sheath). One of my fingers had gotten quite painful, and it locked up whenever I bent it. Fairly common syndrome. Initial treatment is a cortisone injection into the site. Holy crap, that hurt! But the pain didn’t last long, and there is a bit of improvement five days out. Further treatment if it doesn’t clear up: another injection, and then a minor surgery. I also had my hand x-rayed while there — no surprise, it shows arthritis in most of my joints. I don’t notice it much, except some stiffness now and then, and I’m not as nimble on the guitar - though that might be more from lack of playing!

I have a major procedure waiting in the wings - a hernia repair. I’ve been waiting months to get it scheduled, but apparently Providence has contracted with a different anesthesia group and they are working on getting them up to speed, so all non-emergency procedures have been postponed. Last I heard, possibly January or February, but I won’t hold my breath. I really want to get this done soon for reasons I won’t go into here.

And that concludes my organ recital. They get longer the older I get!

And for those anxious to know how Liza is:

I never know day to day what she’s going to be like. She seems a lot better than she’s been for a while, she’s eating well (really well, food is her complete obsession these days), but still not very interested in going for walks or scoots. Some days, like today, she’s feisty as hell and acts like a puppy. Other days she sleeps all day. (Hm, sounds like me!) She still displays dementia behavior, usually in the evening (if you’re not familiar, it’s called sundowning); her vet is going to prescribe Trazodone to calm her anxiety, her odd staring (I saw her staring into her water bowl a couple of times; was she scrying?) and her incessant barking. Of course, we still love her to bits, and I’m getting to practice a new level of patience.

And now: Book Reports

When we left off, our heroine was reading Educated by Tara Westover. It was not an easy read in terms of the subject - a survivalist family with unshakable beliefs in conspiracy theories and ultra fundamentalist Christianity. I’m fascinated by cults and cult mentality (MAGA); I find them bizarre but compelling and wonder how people can give up so much free will to participate. Of course children, like Tara, don’t have a choice unless they can get exposed to other ways of thinking. And they often have to lose their family connection in the process. I found this book well written, powerful, and rather sad. (4/5)

Next I read two non-fiction books: Democracy Awakening by Heather Cox Richardson (does anyone not know who she is??) and Enough by Cassidy Hutchinson.

Heather’s book (we’re all on a first-name basis with her!) is great: Excellent perspectives on the history of politics in the US. Her writing is sometimes complex and challenging to suss out, but she is brilliant. If you don’t already subscribe to her daily newsletter, I highly recommend you get on the Heather train! She has an accessible style of comparing/contrasting historical and present events. (4/5)

Enough was a mixed bag for me. I was anxious to get into the meat of the story, but she spent a long time on her childhood and family relations, which were not very easy for her, nor easy to read. The book could have been much more concise; that said, I appreciated her writing about her time in the West Wing and details of the events leading up to, during, and after January 6th. Hers is an important voice right now. (3.5/5)

Then I ventured into some fiction. Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng (Little Fires Everywhere) is a not-too-distant futuristic tale that has an eerie sense of foreboding, as in these scenarios are not far-fetched in our current political environment: book bans, family separation, political prisoners. I loved this book even though - maybe because? - it made me uncomfortable. (4.5/5)

Next up was historical fiction - my favorite genre - with The Bookbinder by Pip Williams. She wrote a book a few years ago that was one of my favorites: The Dictionary of Lost Words, which has a few of the same characters, and takes place in the same area (Oxford, England) in the same time period (early 1910s - beginning of WWI.) It is not a sequel - they are definitely stand-alone books - but I consider it a sister book. You can tell by the titles, with the words book and words that they are my kind of books. Both rated 5/5

The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride landed next. I was stunned by this book! Layered stories and characters, laugh-out-loud humor, tender and heartbreaking events, complex plot lines. I don't think I've ever read anything like it. I was enthralled. Setting: a small town in Pennsylvania in the late 1930s, Jewish community mixed with a Black community separated from the white ruling class. Some characters are true mensches, some are despicable. This is one of those books I wish I'd kept a cheat sheet of characters; it gets a little confusing sometimes - who is related to whom? But that did not slow me down. (5/5)

And then: time to explore a world with witches! The Once and Future Witches (Alix Harrow) imagines a world “where witches don’t exist - yet.” I was so surprised how well written this book was. I don’t read much fantasy, so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was brilliant. Lots of suspense, humor, good plot - plus Witches! (4.5/5)

Then came Tom Lake by one of my favorite authors, Ann Patchett. I had high expectations for this book - lots of great reviews and many of my friends who have a similar taste in books loved it. But I just didn’t. It was a good story about family with some twists every so often, the writing was good, but it just didn’t grab me. I thought it might have been because the last few books I read were full of action, where Tom Lake is a quiet story. But for me, it didn’t live up to the hype. (3.5/5)

I went from the cherry orchards of Tom Lake to the apple orchards of North Woods (Daniel Mason), which was a total surprise. What a fantastic book! Beginning in the 1700s in the American colonies and ending in an ambiguous time (contemporary?future?) the tale is told through narrative, diary entries, letters, songs, poems, newspaper articles, psychiatric notes, a real estate ad - each of the twelve chapters presenting an advanced timeline, but all centered around one house in the Massachusetts countryside and the different people who come to reside there (and some of their ghosts). It sounds like it could be disjointed, but Mason handles all this deftly, tells a rollicking good tale, and includes a fair amount of humor. Great read! (5/5)

And now I’m about half-way through The River We Remember, a new book by William Kent Krueger. I’ve read two of his previous books and loved them both - his adolescent POV is so true and likeable. This one is turning out to be more of a murder mystery with more adult POV, and I’m not liking it as much. I’ll let you know how it turns out (without spoilers, of course).

Books I’m looking forward to (aka my wish list):

• Liz Cheney’s memoir, Oath and Honor due out this week

• The Fraud by Zadie Smith

• The Comfort of Crows by Margaret Renkl

• Any books by James McBride, author of The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store

• Ditto for Daniel Mason, author of North Woods

That should keep me busy for the rest of the year.

Other media I highly recommend: American Symphony on Netflix - a documentary about the talented, creative couple, Jon Batiste and Suleika Jaouad.

I wish for all of you a joyous and peaceful season. May those in power (and those trying to be) find compassion and true understanding of their fellow humans. And may we care for the Earth as She cares for us.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

There is so much to expletive about these days.

And so it begins:

“Two top advisers to [the twice-impeached-four-times-indicted] former president claimed without evidence that Democrats are working to ‘steal the 2024 election.’“ (NYT) tRump did exactly the same thing in 2020, months before the election, declaring that if he doesn’t win it will have been stolen. Is he preparing us for another January 6th?

Global instability

Is there anyplace in the world right now that isn’t coming apart at the seams?? either from war or threats of war, or from climate crises - floods, fires, super-storms, warming seas, disease - or unstable governments (including the US). It seems even earthquakes are increasing, and I don’t think we can blame that on climate change.

What do you do to stay sane and centered during these - dare I say it? - unprecedented times?

House of Mis-Representatives

I’m so impressed with House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries. He keeps a cool head in the midst of the Republican chaos and offers solutions rather than stirring things up. His recent op-ed in the Washington Post is a must read. Here’s a gifted link to it. Please please please, don’t elect Gym Jordan to the speakership. Scalise isn’t much better - he refers to himself as (former KKK grand wizard) “David Duke without the baggage! “

NAILED IT!

Headline of the Week:

House Republicans Are in a Driverless Clown Car  

And as if the congressional circus wasn’t enough, now we learn that the twice-impeached-four-times-indicted former guy shared classified information - about our nuclear subs! - with a guy (member of the billionaires club) from Australia who proceeded to share it with 45 other people, and who knows where it went from there. If this isn’t enough to keep this lunatic away from the White House, what is??

October 7th?

Tomorrow is Indigenous Peoples’ Day (FKA Columbus Day).

Indigenous Peoples Day has been recognized for decades in different forms and under a variety of names to celebrate Native Americans’ history and culture and to recognize the challenges they continue to face.

“Columbus was a lost explorer who stumbled into this part of the world and brought famine, colonization, the deaths of millions of Indigenous peoples,” said Nick Tilsen, president and CEO of the NDN Collective, an Indigenous-led advocacy group. “For this country to celebrate that history is absolutely disrespectful.” —-AP

And I would add, shameful. If you’d like to learn more about the true history of Native Americans in the US and Canada, here are a number of books to read and other media to check out:

Non-fiction:

• People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn

• An indigenous peoples' history of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz

• Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

• Project 562: Changing the Way We See Native America by Matika Wilbur (incredible photos and personal essays in the words of the people she interviewed).

• Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann. I have not read this yet. Reviews make clear that it’s a disturbing story, but most books about Indigenous history are.

Fiction (a very small sampling of the rich array of contemporary literature):

• Anything by Louise Erdrich (links to her bookstore blog, where you’ll find more recommendations)

• Anything by Sherman Alexie (also here on Substack)

• There, There by Tommy Orange

• The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson

Poetry:

Here’s a much more comprehensive list than I could ever put together from the Poetry Foundation. Among my favorites are Joy Harjo, Leslie Marmon Silko, Louise Erdrich, Heid Erdrich.

Movies/TV:

• Smoke Signals (1998 movie; Sherman Alexie screenplay)

• Reservation Dogs (TV; just ended a three-season run on Hulu.) WATCH THIS SHOW!!! All indigenous writers, directors, production team, and cast. Contemporary Oklahoma comedy/drama. WATCH THIS SHOW!!! It’s fabulous, funny, heartfelt, informative.

Music:

I have just a couple of older CDs I love:

• Walela (a Native American trio, named for the Cherokee word for hummingbird. The group formed in 1996 & is comprised of Rita & Priscilla Coolidge along with Priscilla's daughter, Laura Satterfield.)

• Bill Miller: I have just one of his CDs, probably the first one, Red Road, but I see there are many more. Probably streaming too.

Please leave any of your book, movie, music recommendations in the comments!

Personally

I did manage to read a book this week and get a good start on another. The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides was touted as a psychological thriller. It didn’t quite achieve that for me. Interesting plot twist that I saw coming, and a quick read. I wanted more psychology and less thrill.

Now I’m well into Educated by Tara Westover. I’ve heard great things about this memoir, and I’m thoroughly enjoying her writing. This may well turn out to be a psychological thriller.

Laurie and I have started a Friday evening tradition of Shabbat. (Can we call it a tradition if we’ve only done it two or three times?) I guess for our purpose it would be Shabbat-lite, as we don’t adhere to the whole Shabbat shebang - just the Friday meal. We light the candles and Laurie does the blessing. After dinner, we read a couple of poems to each other. It’s a lovely way to end the work week - though now that we’re both retired, the meaning of weekend isn’t quite the same - as Violet Crowley would say, “What is a week end?” I am not Jewish - Laurie is. I embrace Pagan spirituality and am thinking of alternating our Friday tradition with a Pagan meal blessing and tradition. Suggestions??

Laurie asked me to make vegan challah for the Friday meals. Well, sad to say, my baking chops are pretty rusty. In the past, my (decidedly non-vegan) challah has been the thing of legends. But no butter?? no eggs?? (isn’t it egg bread by definition?) The first vegan batch came out OK - I could live with this. This week, not so much. I tried making the dough in the stand mixer with the dough hook. But I realized I need to knead with my very own hands so I can feel the texture of the dough (plus I love the action of kneading, feeling the dough come to life in my hands). I added waaayyy too much flour, so it was sort of brick-like. Still edible, but nothing to rave about.

Here’s hoping this coming week is less chaotic than last week. May we live in uninteresting times.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

Laurie has a new daily routine: when she gets out of bed, she looks at the wall calendar and notes the day, date, and year. It’s her strategy for not losing track of time. Retirement has that effect on a person. I use my pill minder to remind me of the day. Of course, if I forget to take my meds, then I lose track of the day. Good thing we have our devices to keep us on track.

Trees

We went tree shopping Friday. We needed to replace the plum tree we lost in the Great Tree Fall a couple of years ago when a few of them fell like dominoes (walnut, apple, and plum - add some sugar and flour and you have a crisp!). Of course, we don’t have a truck, so we have to do some creative hauling.

Sycamore Gap

There are a lot of things to be heartbroken about these days. This one, though not a global crisis, made me so sad and SO mad. This sycamore tree in Northumberland near Hadrian’s Wall has been rooted here in Sycamore Gap for 300 years. It’s been beloved and photographed by thousands around the world. It was cut down last week in a senseless act of vandalism by a teenage lad and a 60-something year old man. I do not understand how or why anyone would do such a thing.

Birds, Birds, Birds!

I was alerted to this wonderful website this morning called BirdCast. Enter your county or state and you can see how many migrating birds passed over your area in a given night. Saturday night, 963,900 birds flew over our area! Almost a million birds in our county alone! They’re flying at about 3,500 feet, so we won’t be seeing them -though I’ve heard if you point your binoculars at the moon you might see the silhouettes of birds passing by.

Liza’s session with Lisa, Animal Communicator

We had a phone session with psychic and animal communicator Lisa Holm Saturday. We were hoping to get to the root of Liza’s behavior changes. It was an enlightening session. We learned that Liza may not have dementia. She needs/wants more adventures! She’s still experiencing pain in her shoulder/elbow and would like to try some different treatments. Some of her behavior is driven by the pain. Lisa gave us some messages to send to Liza telepathically, telling her that we’d love to have her at the table with us when she’s quiet and relaxed, that when she’s quiet, she gets treats. Lisa also suggested having Liza sit at a higher level instead of on the floor during our meals. We put her little bed on a chair. You can see how that worked out the first night! We’ll continue working on this.

Lisa also had some connection with Laurie’s brother Richard, who passed in July. She thinks Liza might be sensing Laurie’s grief and so has been spending more time with her than with me. Richard also wanted to let us know that he’s there whenever we want to connect.

Books!

I finished Sun House - the last part was a bit of a slog, I’m sorry to say. I think Duncan was trying to cram too many subjects and ideas into one book. Maybe because he hadn’t written a novel for so long, he had material for two or three books. I still rated it four of five stars because his writing is brilliant.

Next book was Ordinary Grace by William Kent Krueger, who is becoming a favorite author. He captures the magic and mystery of adolescents coming of age in the 1950s. I loved his novel This Tender Land, also a coming of age story and set in the Depression era. He has a new novel coming out, so I wanted to get a taste of his gorgeous writing again before reading the new one.

Then I started to read Master Slave Husband Wife: An Epic Journey from Slavery to Freedom, a non-fiction that follows the harrowing journey of William and Ellen Craft in the mid-19th century. I’ve been looking forward to reading this for a long time; I struggled to follow the narrative when I started it last night, but will stay with it. I think I need more of a transition between books rather than closing one and opening the next right away. It’s a little jarring, especially when the subject matter is so different.

Covid just won’t go away

We both got the new vaccine last week - so grateful for that. Lots of our friends are getting Covid right now during this new variant/surge. We had our first known exposure last week, too, but so far no sign of the virus. Yah!

News today that the Nobel Prize for medicine has been awarded to Katalin Karikó and Drew Weissman, who did the preliminary work that led to development of the mRNA vaccine, which has saved millions of lives and transformed vaccine technology. Contrary to popular belief, this wasn’t a speedy, untested vaccine - the work of Karikó and Weissman took place over decades.

This headline Sunday morning:

“Gaetz Says He Will Move to Oust McCarthy for Working With Democrats.”

The nerve! Doesn’t Kevin know that a bipartisan solution is verboten in the MAGA world??

I was under the impression that these guys in Congress were supposed to legislate, but apparently all the Republicans can do is hold phony hearings and try to run out the clock on the federal budget to BURN IT ALL DOWN. They take their marching orders from the wannabe dictator - the twice-impeached-four-times-indicted-disgraced-former guy-who’s-losing-all-his-New York-businesses-because-he’s-guilty-of-fraud to the tune of billions. But sure, they want him to have access to the nuclear codes again.

Schadenfreude of the week:

Per the New York Times:

Before the trial even begins, Mr. Trump is losing. The New York State Supreme Court judge overseeing the case ruled last week that Mr. Trump had persistently committed fraud, deciding that no trial was needed to determine the veracity of the claims at the core of Ms. James’s lawsuit. The judge, Arthur F. Engoron, also imposed a heavy punishment, stripping the Trumps of control over their signature New York properties — a move that could crush much of the business known as the Trump Organization.

Too bad, so sad.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

We returned home last Sunday after spending ten wonderful, calming, quiet days at a friend’s house on the Salmon River near the Oregon Coast. It was a bit of a reboot for me: I read, I napped, I spent a lot of time with binoculars essentially glued to my face. The view is beautiful, and there is an abundance of bird and other animal life (more about this below). I spent very little time online or listening to podcasts which have been my daily habits for years. The silence was exquisite and so rare for me these days. Several times I’d start to listen to the news and get a few minutes into it, then shut it off with disgust; it felt like my mind was being polluted (it was).

On River Time

I quickly developed a routine: Get up before dawn, fix a cup of coffee, settle in front of the windows and watch the fog lift. I was sure I’d see a lot of bird activity at sunrise, but apparently coastal birds like a bit of a lie-in and don’t start their hunt and gather chores until it warms up a bit. There was still much to observe - lots of fish jumping, lots of fisherpeople trolling for the jumping fish, and a few seals hoping to beat the fisherpeople to the salmon. This is the time of year salmon are returning to their birthplace - aka spawning. I didn’t see the telltale red bodies, but it’s early in the spawning season and we’re pretty close to the ocean; I suspect they change more the farther upriver they go. I did see one salmon almost climb up the riverbank! probably trying to escape a seal or otter.

I added a couple of birds to my “life list” - a Northern Harrier (hawk family) and a Red Crossbill (finch family). Our sister-in-law Pam joined us for a few days, and she is an expert birder and bird photographer. She pointed out the pair of Belted Kingfishers that frequently flew across and up and down the river, occasionally hovering and diving for fish - that is a sight to behold! Also spotted: Redwing Blackbirds, Black Phoebe, Crows, of course, and once a Raven, Great Blue Herons, Egret (the GBH chased the Egret off the little bit of beach a couple of times), domesticated Gull who responds to neighbors Scott and Susan’s whistle and shows up for a bite to eat! a near-murmuration of Starlings (?), Barn Swallows zipping up and down the river and devouring insects. I also briefly saw a fox on a log across the river; she jumped into the grass and disappeared. Seals, sea or river otters, salmon, and finally, on the last morning, a herd of elk! When we were here last spring, the elk were abundant and seemed to live in the field across the river. This time I think the daily fog kept them hidden from us until the last day, when the fog cleared and I saw a small herd crossing the field at a pretty good pace. They were far away, so no photos. I was also treated to a gorgeous sunrise reflected in the calm river. Blessed.

With days of spaciousness, I had plenty of time to write. And what did I write you ask? Zilch, zip, zero. Not even a journal entry. I guess I needed a break from everything. I’ve even been on sabbatical from my beloved morning writing group! I’ll return shortly; I have missed it and the wonderful people who make up the group, but I needed this break.

Thai Food and Ocean Sunset

On the Friday before we came home, we joined friends Kara and Jason on the deck of their beautiful beach house (about 15 miles from the Riverhouse) for a nosh and a sundown show. It was lovely to finally see the house after hearing so much about it. The food was wonderful, the sunset gorgeous, the company fine. We’ll be spending a couple of weeks here in the future, perhaps Spring.

Books

I did a lot of reading while there. I finished a book I’d started before we left - Birnam Wood. I’m not going to use energy to write about it. I thought it was pretty awful. Then I dove into the new David James Duncan novel, Sun House. This is his first novel in 31 years! I love me some DJD, and the first 3/4 of this one didn’t disappoint. It is so packed with philosophy, comparative religion (Catholicism, Jesuits, Hinduism, Buddhism, animism), lots of humor mixed with tragedy, environmental issues, big ag, love stories, music…. It can feel quite dense at times. I have a couple hundred pages to go, and I’m wondering if it’s a couple hundred pages too long (it weighs in at almost 800). I’m finding the dialogue pretentious and unlikely in this section of the book. The piece I expected would be the dénouement suddenly happened around page 550. So alas, DJD isn’t perfect. I’ll let you know how the rest of the book holds up.

Water Woes

We had a couple of frustrating days at the Riverhouse when the well went dry. (See link to groundwater article, below.) Barbara’s neighbor Scott was a huge help in shutting the pump off and monitoring the water levels. He also fetched buckets of river water so we could flush the toilet. By Saturday we had enough water in the tank to wash up and flush- makes one appreciate readily available water — and good neighbors!

I had just read this NYT article about low groundwater levels in the US. It scared the crap out of me, and then to experience the actual effect was an eye-opener. Our water is finite, as are the rest of the earth’s resources. We must stop treating them as if they aren’t. Golf courses, swimming pools, corporate agribusiness, housing and commercial developments - most are not sustainable. It is not progress to keep replacing forests with malls and McMansions (and then name them Pineview or Forest Ridge). As the saying goes, “There is no Planet B.”

Autumn - the best season!

It’s the autumnal equinox here in the northern hemisphere (and Happy Spring to my friends Down Under!) We’re moving into a rainy season this week - much welcomed by this pluviophile. We had a bit of rain at the river for 1/2 a day; mostly it was sunny and warm. I’m so ready for fall!

The Harvest

We harvested the last of the basil today, and I made another batch of pesto. Mmmmm! Lots of garlic, fresh basil, olive oil, and for the non-vegan (me) pecorino. Wonderful spooned onto hot pasta.

Liza’s Health Report

Liza is doing pretty well these days. She still has the limp but is getting around better, she’s able to go down the porch steps (with lots of hesitation). She still seems to favor Laurie’s company over mine, but she’s not quite as harsh about it as she was a couple of weeks ago. It will be interesting to see how she is when Laurie goes out of town next month, once for a few days and once for almost a week.

Guilty Pleasures

Last week the BBC started airing the new season of Strictly Come Dancing. I love this show! I get to dance vicariously to some of the most gorgeous ballroom and Latin dances. The contestants are lovely, the milieu is friendly and supportive. It’s a bit like Dancing with the Stars, but, well it’s British, so it’s civil and respectful.

Slice and Dice

My cataract surgery is scheduled for October 25th. I managed to schedule it when Laurie will be out of town - oh well, I have my drivers all lined up and won’t require much in the way of aftercare. Still no date for my abdominal surgery. Guess the ORs and anesthetists are booked up. I’m anxious to get that one done and dusted.

My one nod to politics this week

As we’re watching another Covid surge approach, I’ll leave you with this little gem:

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

And now we figure out this next chapter. The house already feels and looks so different; there’s a good flow to it. We ditched our gas stove and had a custom unit built to hold our ginormous toaster oven and the induction cooktop, plus some storage below. It’s all at a height that’s accessible for me, which is fabulous. Laurie is still sorting and culling, moving things along to our Buy Nothing group or to other childcare providers - AKA Swedish Death Cleaning.

In two weeks we’ll be having a lovely change of scene: spending a couple weeks at our friend Barbara’s river house. We stayed there for a few days last year. It’s so quiet and cozy, lots of wildlife and trees. We’ll have time to relax, read, reset, and watch the river go by.

Liza Health Report

Liza is doing much better! Her limping is lessening, she’s even going down the porch steps on her own. She so enjoyed Laurie’s retirement party - she greeted everyone without barking! She wandered around to all the guests and was the perfect hostess. She was tired by the end - but so were we!

Weather….

It’s been hot, then not, then hot again. We had an exciting lightning storm early Thursday morning with a fair amount of rain; and rain is in the forecast for early in the week. Hooray!!! I need my rain!!! as do the plants and animals and forests. We haven’t had as much smoke here as other parts of the northwest, for which I’m grateful. Sending good mojo to those affected by the awful wildfires everywhere.

I vow not to post the mug shot. Ever.

Why do people who kvetch about the mug shot feel the need to post it?? Haven’t we seen it/him enough??? Even in the humorous memes, it makes my stomach turn. And why the OJ media treatment in Atlanta? with all the tax-paid SUVs, motorcycles, personnel?? The man is a criminal! (alleged). And they’re treating him like royalty. Pppfffffft. I’d like to think he’s scared or worried, but I imagine all his energy is going toward thinking up schemes to get out of being held accountable for his many, many, many, many crimes. (That’s four ‘manys’ = FOUR criminal indictments.)

This rather long bit from Heather Cox Richardson got my blood boiling. I think this judge needs a therapist.

Judge James Ho, who was sworn into office by Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas in his billionaire benefactor Harlan Crow’s library in 2018 (Texas Republican senator Ted Cruz was also there), wrote his own opinion in the [mifepristone] case in order to expand on what he sees as “the historical pedigree of Plaintiffs’ conscience injury, and to explore how Plaintiffs suffer aesthetic injury as well.” 

Anti-abortion doctors suffer a moral injury when they are forced to help patients who have complications from the use of mifepristone, Ho wrote, because they are forced to participate in an abortion against their principles. 

Those doctors also experience an aesthetic injury when patients choose abortion because, as one said, “When my patients have chemical abortions, I lose the opportunity…to care for the woman and child through pregnancy and bring about a successful delivery of new life.” Indeed, Ho wrote, “It’s well established that, if a plaintiff has ‘concrete plans’ to visit an animal’s habitat and view that animal, that plaintiff suffers aesthetic injury when an agency has approved a project that threatens the animal.” [WTF????]

In cases where the government “approved some action—such as developing land or using pesticides—that threatens to destroy…animal or plant life that plaintiffs wish to enjoy,” that injury “is redressable by a court order holding unlawful and setting aside the agency approval. And so too here. The FDA has approved the use of a drug that threatens to destroy the unborn children in whom Plaintiffs [that is, the anti-abortion doctors] have an interest.” [again: WTF???]

“Unborn babies are a source of profound joy for those who view them,” Ho wrote. “Expectant parents eagerly share ultrasound photos with loved ones. Friends and family cheer at the sight of an unborn child. Doctors delight in working with their unborn patients—and experience an aesthetic injury when they are aborted.” 

The decision will be on hold until the appeals process is completed.

This is so incredibly insulting to women! In trying to establish standing, he equates pregnancy and birth to the viewing of animals in their habitat! I hope he is laughed out of court. Rethuglicans seem to be unaware that over 70% of voters are in favor of abortion health care, which is partly why they were trounced in the midterms - also because a majority of the candidates are whack-a-doodles.

You just have to laugh.

I’ll leave you with some chuckles via the newest Randy Rainbow video.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

What will it take for the scales to fall from the eyes of the powerful? A NYT headline recently read, "A Republican 2024 Climate Strategy: More Drilling, Less Clean Energy.” Are they really in denial or do they want to grab as much money as they can while they can? In a recent post about the climate crisis, I wrote this comment: I have an image of Gaia doing Her best to shake off all the humans that have been so blindly destroying her for so long -- like a dog shaking off a pesky fly. Pandemics, floods, fire, super storms, deadly heat are Her way of dealing with us. It is probably the only way the planet is going to heal.

Travels

This weekend we are staying in a Hampton Inn in Burlington, Washington. It’s a fairly central location for the activities we’re attending. Yesterday it was the celebration of our great-niece’s wedding - three years delayed due to Covid. It was a beautiful day at a private home near Blaine - which is close to the Canadian border.

Today we’ll celebrate Laurie’s brother’s life at a memorial service in nearby Arlington. Lots of family and friends of Richard will be there, and I’m sure we’ll hear some great stories about his time working as a nurse in the Army, in prisons, and in a drug/alcohol treatment center.  I’ll be singing a Carrie Newcomer song, The Gathering of Spirits - Richard and I shared a love of her music.

Our trip up here was … how shall I say this delicately?  FUCKED UP. It’s a four hour trip, but took us seven. It’s exhausting to do the stop-and-go for hours, not to mention how cranky it makes me. We had our friend Kara with us and she helped with the driving (it was so weird to sit in the passenger seat and watch the scenery! but a nice break). Laurie doesn’t drive, so I get the honors when we travel.

And we left our sweet girl at home. She has an excellent carer for the weekend who sends us updates and photos/videos. Liza looked pretty pathetic earlier, but Lindsay had her playing fetch with her Moose and she perked up. She’s doing great this morning.

We’ll be returning to a very hot Portland tomorrow, and a week of “last times” for Laurie. Friday is her last day of work!!! Woot!!

He Who Shall Not Be Named

Speaking of pathetic, the twice-impeached, thrice-indicted former guy is taunting Judge Tanya Chutkan by his social media posts and campaign speeches. Some people think he’s banking on either having a gag order slapped on him or being locked up for contempt of court — he tends to rake in the money from his supporters (suckers) the more the rule of law tries to hold him accountable. But, like Jack Smith, Judge Chutkan is no fool. The orange man-baby has met his match.

And now Georgia is on my mind.  Buckle up.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.

(I usually dislike these gifs on a loop, but this one cracked me up and seemed oh so appropriate.)

Retirement countdown:

Laurie is on the very pointy end: Just seven work days to go! She will be fêted at a couple of celebrations with friends and family, then settle into a life of leisure (ha ha!). Our original plan was to spend a month at the coast in September, but logistics intervened, so we’ll have ten days or so at the river, then later in the year, a week or two at the coast. It’s all good - not like there’s nothing to do at home!

Barbie! the Movie

We went with a couple of friends to see the Barbie movie last week. It was awesome! When Laurie told me a few weeks ago she wanted to see it, I thought she’d lost her marbles. That was before I heard anything about it. I can see why the right wing nutjobs feel threatened by it - it upsets their natural order (aka toxic masculinity)! That was all the recommendation I needed. I didn’t play with Barbies when I was a kid and wrote the doll off years ago as an anti-feminist object, so it’s been fun to learn about her evolution and then to see this re-imagined version of her. It’s fun, it’s feministic, it’s fabulous! Highly recommend. Just the opening scene is worth the price of admission. And Kate McKinnon is superb.

Liza health report

Liza went back to see her vet Friday - she’s still very lame, and it seems to be getting worse, not better. She had laser acupuncture, but it didn’t seem to help. Dr. Conny recommended an X-ray this time to rule out bone cancer. Of course, I went right to catastrophizing. I keep telling myself to take deep breaths until we have more information, but it’s not easy on a day like today, when she’s not eating and she’s sleeping all day. Doggy healing thoughts appreciated.

Our turn for the heat

Rumor has it a heat dome will be upon us next week. I thought we would escape extreme heat this summer, but no. It won’t be the first time we’ve been grateful for the A/C. We’ll need to do a deep watering of the yard before we leave for Washington next weekend.

Be well, discover awe, find joy.