Month: June 2018

Deep Space

From my brilliant friend at redswrap.wordpress.com.

Jan Wilberg's avatarRed's Wrap

The world doesn’t need me to weigh in on suicide. But I will, if only to sort out my own thinking.

I’ve been depressed but not clinically. I’ve never wanted to end my life. I cannot fathom feeling that suicide is the best option. But I can’t fathom deep space either though I know it exists. So I take Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade at their word. They determined suicide to be the best option. They alone knew the vast dark dimensions of their own deep space and I won’t second guess them.

Or their loved ones.

When a high profile suicide occurs, the implicit blaming begins. How? With the quick supposition that had only someone reached out, offered a hug and a phone number, the suicide could have been prevented. Be sure to tell your children, parents, friends that you love them! Hug your children. Let them know you…

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Where are the Protest Songs?

There is an old Chinese curse, “你可能生活在有趣的时代” (Nǐ kěnéng shēnghuó zài yǒuqù de shídài) that translates to “May you live in interesting times.” It seems as though, since the 2016 election that we are in the throes of that curse.

I’m not naive enough to believe that the times in which we are living are any more or less interesting than any other periods of history. It is easy, though, to fall prey to that mindset when every day we witness so many worrisome events. Trump’s recent bad behavior at the G7 conference adds to the evidence.

In the late 60’s I was a sheltered little girl living in rural Floydada, Texas. I wasn’t completely clueless, though. I knew about the Vietnam War, after all, it came to our television sets direct from the battlefields every night. Also on my tv I watched protesters marching against the war, young men burning their draft cards and seeking asylum in Canada. And, I’d seen television coverage of the Civil Rights movement. The clashes between protesters and police officers were disturbing, but in my little cocoon none of that really touched me.

Then in May of 1970 four college students protesting the Vietnam War were killed by National Guardsmen on the campus of Kent State in Ohio. I was 13, not much younger than the students who lost their lives that day. The desire to make my voice heard began to rise.

I’d love to tell you that I immediately left my home to join in angry protests, but again, I was just 13. I did start paying attention, though, not just to the protests, but to the protest songs.

Like this one from Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young.

https://youtu.be/9GXtQfXBAmM

Lately I’ve begun wondering where are today’s protest songs? Am I so old that I am unable to recognize them as such? Are there artists putting out meaningful lyrics that make young people feel the need to change the world? If you know of any, please pass the knowledge along. We need protest anthems for these interesting times.

Who Still Believes Donald J. Trump Doesn’t Work for Russia?

Read this piece by alotfromlydia.wordpress.com.

alotfromlydia's avatarA lot from Lydia

Donald Trump on allowing Russia back in the G7:

“We discussed it, and some people like the idea of bringing Russia back in. This used to be the G8, not the G7. Something happened a while ago that resulted in Russia no longer being in. I think it’d be an asset to have Russia back in. I think it would be good for the world, it would be good for Russia, it would be good for the United States…” “We’re looking for peace in the world, we’re not looking to play games.”

YouTube

What is the “something that happened a while ago”?

Russia annexed Crimea. Oh, and they shot down a commercial airliner. I guess four years could be considered “a while ago”. Putin is definitely not playing games.

https://mobile.twitter.com/davidmackau/status/1005455132379709441/video/1

This meeting of the G7 was not held to consider readmitting Russia. Donald Trump, who would have you believe he…

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Take it Easy

I took today off from blogging, but couldn’t resist sharing this cartoon and the song that inspired it. I’ve loved this Eagles tune since it was released in 1972.

https://g.co/kgs/5uFg7B

Bumming Around Bainbridge

On Saturday morning Studly Doright decided we needed to drive the thirty miles or so to Bainbridge, Georgia, for breakfast at the American restaurant. I was delighted that he felt like getting out for a bit, so I quickly made myself presentable, and soon we were driving north through Havana, FL, and across the Florida-Georgia state line.

The drive is a pretty one through rolling hills and by 9:30 a.m. we were pulling up in front of The American.

There was just one problem–the restaurant didn’t open until 11:30. Studly assured me that he knew of another restaurant in Bainbridge, so we drive across town only to discover that they weren’t open either.

Studly suggested we get a donut at a place we’d passed as we drove into town, after which we could shop for a few necessities at the local Walmart then try The American for lunch. A donut sounded awful, but by this time I was so hungry I’d have agreed to just about anything.

After eating our much too doughy donuts we drove to Walmart and bought a new alarm clock and a few other items. We wandered around as long as we could, but it was only 10:30, and I could still taste that damned donut.

I suggested we go back to the downtown area and walk around until The American opened. Studly parked under a shade tree and sent me off to explore while he took a nap.

This pretty park sits in the heart of downtown Bainbridge:

Finally The American restaurant opened. We’d never eaten there, but one of Studly’s co-workers highly recommended it.

The interior was appealing.

Studly enjoyed a Hawaiian ribeye sandwich, and I had a grilled chicken and pesto sandwich. Both were good, but I’m not sure they were worth the drive. Maybe that darned donut was still messing with my taste buds. I’ll have to give the restaurant another try some day.

We drove home and both of us took a nap. Poor Studly still isn’t getting enough sleep due to pain from surgery to repair sciatic nerve damage, so he catches a few zzzzz’s anytime he can. I feel totally helpless.

Peace, people.

Timberrr Update

A few days ago I posted a photo of a tree that had fallen during a thunderstorm on Sunday. This happened just a couple of houses from Doright Manor.

The route I normally take out of our neighborhood is in the opposite direction of the fallen tree, but I’m a curious sort and took the long way ’round yesterday morning so I could check out the situation.

Part of the tree has been been cut into pieces so that it now only blocks half of the road; although, the bulk of it remains in the front yard of a neighbor’s home.

Thank goodness it fell into the road and not onto their home.

Although, this trailer felt the full brunt of the fall:

Again, it could’ve been much worse. The tree could’ve easily landed instead on the pickup truck to which the trailer had been hitched.

What’s to Become of Me?

My daughter, Ashley, might begin looking for a nice retirement home for me, and her actions would be justified. You be the judge.

I was watching the morning news and one of the broadcasters opened with today’s date. As he pronounced the words, “June 7th,” I experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’d forgotten my youngest granddaughter’s June 6th birthday. What kind of grandmother forgets her sweet grandchild’s sixth birthday?

Immediately I sent off a text:

Within seconds my daughter tweeted her reply:

She did try to give me an excuse. Her oldest child’s birthday is December 6th, after all.

You see from the exchange above that now she’s humoring me. I’ll bet she was looking up names of nice assisted living homes in her area even as she was lol-ing at me.

Testing the waters I texted,

See, now she’s wanting to medicate me.

I hope she finds me a nice place, somewhere with a swimming pool and nail salon. Oh, a wine bar would be nice, too. I’ll go without a fuss.

Peace, people!

Posy Poser

Our youngest cat, Patches, is normally a reticent creature. She prefers her own company and generally ventures out only when she feels the urgent need for a tasty treat. Occasionally I am granted the privilege of petting her. Even less often do we hear her purr.

So when Patches emerged from one of her hideaways to pose with a couple of flower arrangements, I had to take her picture. It’s like she was aware of the pretty picture she made.

I give you, Floral Arrangements with Cat:

Peace, people.

Supreme Court ruling on Wedding Cake for Gay Couple

I get this. A great piece by nonsmokingladybug.wordpress.com.

nonsmokingladybug's avatarThe happy Quitter!

Related image

The U.S. Supreme Court ruled that a Colorado baker has the legal right to refuse to make a wedding cake for a gay couple, because of his own religious objections to same-sex marriage and I understand the ruling -what might come as a surprise to many of you.

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What About the Zombie Apocalypse?

On Tuesday morning I had an ultrasound procedure to determine if my recent medical issues were actually the diverticulitis that I’d self-diagnosed or a result of a faulty gallbladder. No big deal, but I was required to fast from midnight until after my 10 a.m. appointment.

During an average night I get up at least twice to potty and get a drink of water. Afraid that I’d forget the “nothing by mouth” order I taped a hastily written note to my bathroom mirror:

Of course Studly Doright found the note hilarious.

Thank goodness, though, for my foresight because at 3:49 a.m. I had a glass of water in hand and only my note prevented me from taking a big drink. Take that Studly!

As I drove to the imaging center I pondered that note. What if, God forbid, some tragic accident had taken both my life and Studly’s life before we returned home that day. Whatever would investigators make of the cryptic “No food or water!!”?

Might someone have thought I was starving in spite of the abundance of food in our pantry? Perhaps they’d believe I’d penned a note crying out for help because my husband had forbidden me access to our food supply.

Then of course my mind pondered how that note might be interpreted by survivors of a zombie apocalypse. Would they think our food and water were tainted? Would some poor survivor pass by the jars of peanut butter and boxes of rice and cereal believing the contents weren’t fit for human consumption? I’d hate to be the reason someone in an apocalyptic situation starved to death. As soon as I returned home I tossed it in the trash. Whew! That was a close one.

Peace, people