Monday, November 2, 2020

Sept 14 2020 - Monday - a note from the near past.

There is the grinding down, as we circle through the whirlpool, 

before we are spit out into a new world. I feel stretched and thinned out.  Effaced.

We are working on the new world.  We are birthing it

together. 

 


 

 

November 2 2020 - the Day Before

 ...not that we will get much closure about the election on Nov 3rd. But ...well, it's all we can think about.  Will the Deposed Maniac try to claim victory and hold onto the presidency if he's ahead Tuesday evening -- and then try to end the ballot count? Then I will take to the streets, because all votes must be counted. Besides,  races aren't always called on Election Day -- that's a convention brought about by media and the ability to predict an outcome. Back in the day, it would take weeks to tally the vote and get the results to the Electoral College.  We will Protect The Results.  Absolutely.

 

We are restless, hearts thrumming

like the hummers

roaring in and out of the purple sage. 


We are haunted by 2016 - when we felt the time was right, that we were in the sweet spot to have a woman president to continue a more just society.  Now we are grimly hanging onto our hearts, crossing our fingers, gnawing our nails, working to propel a woman Veep.  These four years have changed us - all of us, We are a different nation, in many ways, with a new respect for health, for justice, for a government that works for the common good.

Today, I watch a patch of pelicans, brilliantly white with black wing tips, wheel across the sky, determined and steady. That is us, the Determined Ones. We're not extremists, seeking to bash heads or run candidates off the roads, using intimidation, bullying, falsehoods and lies to secure the election because we can't run on our record, because we have nothing to offer the country but more chaos and ineptitude. We use steady inexorable persistence to make headway against injustice, writing batch after batch of postcards, 10 or 20 at a time, to remind voters of the power of the vote, of their voice.


Protect The Vote

Friday, October 2, 2020

Sept 13 2020 - Saturday.

Picture by  Buddy Poland     from Heather Cox Richardson's post Sept 13 2020

Taking a cue from Heather Cox Richardson today, from  - because I'm exhausted just thinking about all the levels of chaos going on. And HCR stated it all so well in her post from today, which I quote in it's entirety. :

"Lots of people are tired right now. Indeed, the whole point of the constant stream of chaos coming from the administration is to exhaust us to the point we will stop caring what Trump and his supporters do.

But have you noticed that reporters are increasingly calling out the administration's lies, and people are increasingly articulating what they want the world to look like, rather than what we are currently enduring? Famously, "in the midst of chaos there is also opportunity."

Here's a little inspiration for those of you for whom the chaos is obscuring the opportunity: Wilhelmina Smith of the highly-regarded Salt Bay Chamberfest, a small non-profit performing arts organization in Maine, playing her cello-- somewhat unexpectedly-- in the light of a late-summer afternoon. 

https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/september-13-2020

Taking A Mental Health Break

This in the midst of the horrendous fires in Ashland, Oregon and Butte County, California - (again)

Fires, fires, fires.

 But we soldier on, right?




Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Saturday, September 19, 2020

Tuesday, Sept 8, 2020- Smoke and Fires, No Mirror Needed

(apologies for lack of continuity here)

Overwhelmed by the sadness of the smoke and fires. 

22 days of Spare The Air alerts doesn't even begin to describe the constant presence of smoke and fire. It's like a deep winter season in a way, when snow and ice kept us housebound and indoors, only this is excessive heat and too much smoke. Exercise becomes an indoor activity: yoga or tai chi on a good day. 

For others, the fires force them to flee, leave everything behind, stare into an uncertain future. 

Woke today to an oppressively oily-yellow light, the sun a weak red disk behind a high screen of smoke from a fire somewhere else, perhaps the Wallbridge Fire flare-up that sparked evacuation orders again around Guerneville and Armstrong Woods State Park. Thick blankets of smoke, reminding us that fire has destroyed homes and lives and livelihoods elsewhere.  I hear now that this smoke is from fires in Mendocino.  There are or have been fires, I think, in every county in the North Bay, this past month. And now the Sierras are erupting in fire,  with courageous helicopter rescues of flame-trapped hikers and firefighters and citizens of all stripes and ilk.

A visit to the National Weather Service Twitter page has me saddened beyond relief -- satellite views of the sea of smoke settling into the inland valleys. Insane waves created by the heat and wind. Historic wooden train trestle in Yakima, Washington a gridwork of flames. And Southern California not one whit better.