politics – Page 3 – The Hermits' Rest

Hugs All Around

It’s a hard day in the USA, so I’m sending hugs it to all. Let’s send peaceful energy out to our country even if we disagree with what happens. We’re still all family.

Love is what we need, and what I experienced today. I found a little clump of trees chock full of beautiful birds this morning. The woodpeckers were everywhere.

Maybe my best bird photo ever. Red-bellied Woodpecker.

I’m not going to go on and on about birds. It’s killing my blog stats, but they do bring me comfort. There were lots of them today, in between doing things to distract myself. Thank goodness for my relatives and their willingness to drive me all over the place! At our late lunch at Hudson’s I had a divine crab cake and the best potato salad ever. I saw lovely herons and of course, gulls.

Then we went to the nature preserve I love to visit. They’ve done a lot there since last year, but the rugged beauty was also there. I got lots of ideas for the Wild Wings Bird Sanctuary to share with our committee. And it was beautiful near sunset.

We went to “second dinner” because we didn’t want to go back to our rooms. This was at the Fish Camp restaurant next to the beautiful dock overlooking the Broad Creek. We got Old Fashioneds, appetizers and bread pudding. I, of course, went to the beautiful dock and looked for birds, the best of which was a very vocal Clapper Rail. I do love a good marsh at low tide!

Mostly, though the three of us women enjoyed each other’s company, telling stories about our parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. We are resilient, we determined. It was a beautiful night, and that just added to the fun.

I’m gonna read magazines and check the news later. I feel safe and grounded for now, because I feel the love of my family and friends.

Comforting Conversations

This is probably not an stress-free weekend, even if you’re doing your best to live in the moment and enjoy the present. However, I’ve had a few conversations with friends and strangers that have helped me remember the good and hope in the world.

Lovely ofrenda in the Austin airport. Southwest Airlines does good stuff.

Yesterday started with a talk with a friend who’s a philanthropist, social worker, and former Red Cross volunteer. She’s very concerned about the immediate future. I hope by sharing some of the hopeful things I’ve heard, I helped a bit.

In the early afternoon, Doc Shenkman, my undergrad professor called. He had some opinions on current events to share. I had to smile as I realized he has not lost his passion for politics, social justice, and the importance of good law enforcement.

Reflecting on how his long rant reflected my own views reminded me that while my parents provided some guidance when I was young, it was long Friday night conversations over very bad but very cheap beer ($1.25 a pitcher) helped shape my values, morals, and philosophical orientation for the rest of my life. (I also learned many German drinking songs, because the German club sat next to us.)

The University of Florida had an honors undergraduate curriculum when I was there. We had tenured professors for all our required courses. Thank goodness for those generous souls who taught us to understand literature, the human, and social sciences. I got a real humanities education that I’ve used my whole life. Anyway, I’m lucky to still be friends with Doc, after all these years.

Later, after hugging all the dogs and horses, Lee drove me to the airport. During that trip I continued a text conversation with two former coworkers who are now trusted friends. we each have our reasons to worry about the future, as one of us has a trans family member, one is a gay man, and one is a mother of a teenage girl. It was comforting to talk to each other about our thoughts and experiences during challenging times. It’s good to know you aren’t alone and can both support and be supported right now.

And today at the Austin airport I saw a man wearing a Lincoln Project sweatshirt. I went up to him and gushed about how much we love their work, especially Lee. The man said he gets a lot of that, including people who whisper their support, like they’re behind enemy lines in World War II. He and his young grandson were heading to Charlotte to work at a rally today. The kid was not as impressed as I was that he’d get to meet Jon Bon Jovi, but at least he was excited to meet the Vice President.

I showed him my secret signs of allegiance

The man talked to me a bit about his journey from Bush, to Perot to Obama, which fascinated me. He kept his same convictions but changed to leaders he thought supported them better. Wow.

So I’m feeling okay as I head to South Carolina wearing my mask so I won’t get Covid again. It wasn’t planned that I’d be elsewhere during the Presidential election, but at least this way Lee can watch coverage all day and night and I won’t have to.

Remember. My friendship and love remain even if we disagree. I want the best for us all.

I Hope We Can Learn from History

What major historical events do you remember?

I’m not ancient, but I was born in scary times. I remember the nightmares I had after the “duck and cover” drills that would not have saved my elementary school friends from an atomic bomb.

I remember the President getting assassinated and watching his funeral on black-and-white television. I liked the white horses.

I remember Walter Cronkite solemnly reciting war casualties and my parents’ friends crying over their young sons forced to be in that war.

I remember some years of hope, when I thought people were getting less racist, women were getting the same rights as men, and my gay friends were able to come out of the closet.

I was on a plane when the 9/11 horrors happened.

I noticed when Vladimir Putin was elected and quickly became dictator. It reminded of a time before my birth when a candidate in Germany stirred up the disaffected and angry populace to win his race, then immediately put his opponents in concentration camps. Then came the immigrants, the gays, the non-Christians.

I hope I won’t remember a time when history repeats itself. Again. More scary times.

We’ll see. Two weeks from now a choice will be made. Pray for peace and that cool heads prevail.

A Risk I’m Wishing I Could Take

What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to?

I did take a risk today, but I’ll get to that later. One I wish I could take is to go live somewhere I’d feel more comfortable. Every time I think about it I come back around to the sad truth that there is no Sunaland. Anywhere.

The coast of Sunaland, a mythical location. Photo from Pexels.

We keep thinking of different parts of the US. Last night it was somewhere in Central Pennsylvania. Earlier it was Wisconsin. Or whatever. Always too expensive, too far from medical facilities, blah blah.

Other countries? Sure. Ireland, Wales, or Sweden! But would they want us? They mainly want very wealthy people. I’m not sure we’re that. I want to live somewhere pretty rugged and in a small community. I’m just not brave enough to leave this place. I guess I’m settled where I am, even if I sometimes feel out of place.

Anyway, I was brave and took the risk of moving the horses to the field in front of the house. It still has some reasonable grass, which I thought they’d like.

Well, they liked the water trough we put in a lot. I’ve already had to refill it, due to splashing and slurping. Mabel and Drew like to splash.

There are LOTS of giant cocklebur plants in that field, and lots of woodland creatures to spook them. I hope they find the trees to be a good place to sleep. If they seem upset, I’ll put them back after my lesson tomorrow and give them a round bale of hay to eat.

It may just take a while to settle in. Horses aren’t fond of change.

Dusty, however, is quite fond of his own reflection.

Everyone here is tired because we had a guest last night, then people came to fix the bedroom slide in Seneca the motorhome, then much horse drama.

After all that, Lee and I voted, picking the perfect time when it wasn’t too crowded. I’m glad we got that done. It was fun to just skip uncontested contests where I dislike the candidate. By 2:30 over 300 people had voted in our town!

Goldie is pooped and so are the others! I must admit that I’m tired and peopled out myself!

Too Sick to Be Excited

Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.

This has never happened to me. I don’t get sick often, but after sneezing and blowing my nose all day yesterday and thinking I had allergies, I realized I was actually ill during the night when I got that “feeling” you get when a virus has attacked. Argh. Being sick all alone away from home is pretty awful!

So rather than a nice hike, I took the condo van to the grocery store/drug store and got allergy tablets, cold/flu medicine and a Covid test. Plus fruit. That’s good for you. Thankfully, the Covid test was negative. I’ll do another one tomorrow.

I managed to work on a project, then dragged myself to the French bakery, because I was feeling sorry for myself. I got big ole croissants.

After napping, the DayQuil kicked in, and I went for a gentle, slow walk down some minor ski paths.

Nothing but beauty (and few loud vehicles)

It made me feel a bit better, but after that, I could do nothing but easy blogging and staring at Cesar Milan, who needs to come over and make our dogs calm and quiet.

Okay, I’ve gone far enough down the post to tell you the last thing that made me excited. It was Michelle Obama’s speech at the Democratic National Convention. Even Anderson Cooper said it was the best speech he ever heard.

I was very excited by certain messages I heard at that convention. I liked that speakers encouraged us to all listen to each other, and that Harris promised to be President for all Americans. That was refreshing. There was some pointed comments, but there wasn’t name-calling, meanness, or blatant lying (I’m aware that both sides exaggerate).

We shall see what happens. In the meantime, remember our wild friends.

So yeah, I got excited and feel slightly less despondent about the future.

Oh, the Conspiracies

Eh. I just can’t do today. I spent some time today watching the Olympics that are in Paris. That’s in France, a country in Europe. Many Americans, me included, have ancestors from there. France has a long history, including a revolution where a red, white and blue flag got waved around.

This is French. It’s what they fought for, liberty, eat, and brotherhood. From Pexel.

You knew this, right? The French are famous for wine, cheese, fashion, and long loaves of bread. They are not famous for fried potatoes.

I was baffled to wake up this morning to find people I know very upset with the Opening Ceremonies, admittedly a confusing extravaganza of Frenchness, and saying it was a Satanic ritual sent out to corrupt them. Do people think their little American demographic is so important that another country would forfeit their chance to highlight their culture in favor of upsetting people on the other side of the world?

Are they on shrooms? (The hallucinatory kind, not ones that look like nipples.

Yow. Now I know some folks don’t think it worth their time to learn about places outside of where they live. They have other stuff to think about. I get it. My head is full of bird calls, so it’s running out of space, too.

My head is also full of yarn. I’ve been crocheting something.

But gee whiz, the world isn’t out to get you, your interpretation of a deity, or your beloved future leader, who today promised you’ll only have to vote once more, so that duty can be crossed off the list.

Surprise: All those other nations out there all think THEY are the most important one, and only care about you if you try to pick a fight. So France wrote an Olympic Opening Ceremony that they felt represented themselves, their history, and their culture. It might confuse non-French people, but rather than assume the worst and invent conspiracy theories. another option would be to try to learn something about France.

That French bread is a baguette. That’s French for long loaf of bread. from Pexel.

You might still think the French are weird, but that’s okay; they also think we’re weird.

I doubt anyone who reads this needs education about France or believes Satanic forces control the Olympic organizers. And, since I’m me, I must point out that we’re all entitled to our beliefs, rational or not. So you be you. I get to be me.

Too Much Adulting

I thought way too much about adult topics like real estate, bills, car maintenance, and such. Then I started watching two old men call each other liars with no way to verify who’s telling the truth (US Presidential Debate).

I’m done. Just done. Back to concentrating very hard on the beauty of the world around me and the goodness that’s everywhere.

Like this! Whoever thought they’d see a Great Blue Heron at the top of an electric pole!

For example, we got help with a broken air conditioning unit so fast it made my head spin. I’m ever so grateful to have caring people in my life. That’s a good part of adulting.

Halfway through the year. It’s getting hot, but still no 100° days yet.

I leave you with bunnies. I saw at least three today, but I think these photos are the same one, morning and afternoon.

Organized Religion, Unpopular Beliefs, and Such

Do you practice religion?

Have we met? If we have, you probably know I’m not a fan of organized religion. It seems like whenever some spiritual leader comes along, followers start twisting their teachings around to justify their agendas. I’ll stop there and let the reader come up with their own examples. It’s not hard to do.

No illustrations go with this blog so enjoy some bugs.

I’ve tried, of course. I always liked church as a kid because there was singing. In harmony. I liked that. The inconsistency of the teachings? Not so much.

I have tried a couple of other paths, but each started trying to say “my doctrine is better than yours” (even Wicca/neopaganism) and I got disinterested in any organized activity. Even Buddhists can start telling you how you should and shouldn’t practice. Fine for those people. Not for me. And the songs for both groups aren’t much fun.

I did stick with UnitarIan Universalism for a long time. The music was excellent and I got to be in a folk group, a choir, and a rock band. But power struggles, infighting, and most of all, the oppressive political correctness mandates got to be too much for me. I got to where I was afraid to speak, because someone would give me a lecture on how I triggered them, used last week’s correct labels, or missed a pronoun. (Note that I do my best to keep up and love everyone in all the trigger-prone communities). I’m just old and slow even as I try to learn (this statement will lead to a lecture on how I COULD do better if I tried, so I’m a sucky ally).

Anyway, my first point is that no matter who you think is the Best Spiritual Leader, I probably respect them and their teachings. My own path draws a lot from the Buddha, Jesus (his actual sayings), and Starhawk. But it’s mine, and I don’t expect you to follow it. I still respect other wise teachings as well. I will say I’m not fond of Mao or Lenin. I’m allowed. Right now at least.

Enjoy my smaller, but repaired, chicken pen.

And here’s my second point. People say things, sometimes in public, that reflect their spiritual path, philosophy, or culture. Sometimes we will agree with them; sometimes we will disagree. But it’s very important to let people say what they have to say. Heck, it tells you whose businesses to support, what sports teams to follow, or who to vote for.

Do not enjoy this large Queen fire ant that flies. Check those mandibles out.

Lately there’s been a lot of commentary about people who express opinions in public that don’t match those of their audiences. Examples include the football player who waxed on about women and motherhood, and Richard Dreyfus, who seems to have said sexist and racist things to an audience that didn’t come to hear that talk.

How should we handle this kind of thing? Well we sure don’t want to go censoring them. That can easily get turned around to where the other side feels censored because THEIR beliefs offend others(aside from the fact that I do censor myself often in my current political setting).

Enjoy my coffee mug from today. I’m running out of things to enjoy.

Nope. These people should say what they want to say, and then deal with the consequences. People will walk out of the venue, which is fine. Or they may no longer buy their products. But the speakers still get to talk.

Enjoy my creepily flesh-colored nails. Only flesh colored for white people, of course.

And those of us with different views also get to talk, even if we can’t be quite woke enough.

I worry that having uncommon beliefs, spiritual or otherwise, may be grounds for punishment in the future if we aren’t careful. Let’s treat those we disagree with the way we hope they’d treat us if we spoke out. We can respect their right to speak, but not be forced to listen.

Sigh. Here’s a dream. Wouldn’t it be cool if everyone felt comfortable flying flags with our favorite candidate’s name on it?

What I Learned About Freedom from Salman Rushdie (Book Report)

What does freedom mean to you?

I just finished reading Knife, by Salman Rushdie. In case you never heard of him, he’s a novelist who dared poke fun at a religious figurehead and had a fatwah put out in him. That means someone pretty humorless wanted him dead.

Knife, and some future reading material.

Regardless of the merits of his writing or his attempts at humor or anything like that, it had to be hard living with bodyguards 24/7 and always wondering when the assassin would show up. That’s the opposite of freedom to me, maybe worse than being imprisoned. In prison you know where all the murderers are.

Tiny Calf says she’s gonna hide in the grass.

He eventually got to where he didn’t worry about being attacked anymore, but then he was. The book is his way of getting his processing done. I guess since he gets paid to write, he decided to publish his memories and their effects on him rather than writing in a journal, or blogging like us other self-absorbed people.

By the end, though, I think Rushdie comes out free. He’s free to live the rest of his life without dwelling on what happened, his attacker’s motivation, or looking over his shoulder constantly. He’s faced death and knows what it’s like.

It’s probably not true, but birds always seem free.

That’s freedom: being able to live without worrying that someone or some institution is out to kill you, confine you, or strip you of your rights. In this case, I’m not free anymore. I’m no longer confident that women can be free in this country.

I digress as usual. As for the book, it was okay. There were some genuinely funny parts, and I give Rushdie credit for doing his best to be introspective, but he comes across (to me) as someone who has a great need to prove how smart he is. He extensively quotes from world literature when I swear he could just say what he meant rather than forcing the reader to remember every book they ever read (IF they happened to be literature majors) and draw the proper inferences from it.

I felt like there was going to be an essay test at the end.

He also quotes himself, or his novels, repeatedly. Is he trying to sell books? I didn’t end up dying to read any of them, which is good, since I have some good ones queued up already, thanks in part to kind people who keep handing me books.

I don’t use enough polysyllabic words or quote enough European fiction to even want to quote myself.

Now, I do feel for the guy. He went through a lot, lost vision in one eye, and has a permanent droopy mouth. He does seem pretty chipper for someone less than two years after nearly dying. He sure made Jon Stewart laugh when he interviewed him.

So, freedom is not a buzzword for me. It’s the ability to live in your society with a reasonable about of agency and feeling safe among your community members.

I always disagreed that butterflies were free. They are little mating and egg-laying instinct-driven beings. Pretty, though.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be less dour. But here’s an example of why I’m that way: I didn’t share the link to yesterday’s blog about what public figure I dislike most on Facebook out of concern that it might put a target on my back. So, freedom? Not so much.

Oh Public Figures

What public figure do you disagree with the most?

You may be surprised, but my answer to this is the Governor of Texas. While he isn’t a pathological liar like my second choice, he seems to be on a deliberate course to disenfranchise every resident of this state who isn’t a wealthy white man. Shudder.

Like this lovely mana cow, he’s full of cow poop.

Good night.