Perhaps a bit soon to comment, but what the heck, here I go.

This just in:

The GOP has decided to include in their 2016 party platform the following items:

~gay people are bad and anti-gay conversion therapy is good

~pornography is a “public health crisis” and is bad, bad, bad

~prairie chickens and sage grouse should NOT be on the endangered species list (yes, this is a plank of the platform)

~traditional marriage (or, if you’re stuck in the Dark Ages, then “man marries woman” kind of marriage) is the only way to go

~but “no-fault divorces” are good

~teaching the Bible (that would be THE Bible, as in Christianity in all of its glory) as literature curriculum and electives in high school should be encouraged by state legislators

~bathrooms for everyone are bad, should remain anti-transgender

~coal, coal, coal

I have to stop here, because my brain is being infected by the asinine asininity and I’m starting to hallucinate.

Could be the smoke, but I’ll go with the asinine GOP.

So all of the above has made it thus far into the GOP 2016 party platform.

Takeaway?

Porn and gay people, bad.

Guns?  Not so much.

Pornography is a “public health crisis” of EPIC (my hyperbole, snark) proportions and MUST be addressed in something so sanctified as the party platform.  But guns?  MEH.

Just meh.

Cause more people die as a result of pornography than guns.

Got it.

Time for some brain bleach.

Or I’ll just step outside and breath the smoke-filled air.  That should clear it up real quick.

Blessings be.  May the Goddess help us all.

 

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So…there’s this fire…

We knew this was a possibility.  If you’ve followed my blog for awhile, you’ll know I post frequently about being grateful for every last snowflake and every drop of rain.  How my biggest fear, and realized possibility, is a forest fire in our “backyard.”

And so here it is.  Now.  On the mountain behind us.  It’s difficult to explain exactly where we live.  I had to drag (nicely, of course) the Jackson County sheriff over to the map on the wall, at the Community Meeting last Tuesday night, and point out our precise location.  I then attempted to get a confirmation from said sheriff that we would, in fact, be included in any notices going out to the Parsons Draw area for voluntary/mandatory evacuations should the fire breach the two contingency lines.

It did.  And we didn’t.  Luckily we have an inside track on firefighter/emergency medical personnel communications and the dear husband was alerted to the voluntary evacuation order sent out yesterday afternoon.  As well, we’ve made a new friend in the Parsons Draw area (natural disasters will do that…bring people together) who also called to let me know what was going on.

As if the gigantic, enormous, humongous black smoke plume that I saw framed over the apartment/garage wasn’t enough to let me know that perhaps things weren’t going so well up there as they had been.

I don’t even know where to start.  There’s so much tumbling around up there.  I’ve got the “go-bags” packed and they’ve been ready to go since the fire started (June 19th).  Not a problem there.  I do keep adding to the pile, occasionally.  As I find something, or remember something that would not be able to be replaced.  I’ll need to stop soon though, as there may be no room for the dogs.  And they trump all the rest. (I should really stop using that word, as forevermore it will be associated with an orange buffoon, aka CheetoJesus.)

Anyway.  I’ve been told varying things by the Men-in-my-Life-that-are-in-the-Know.  In one conversation alone “just take what we can’t replace and that can be loaded in 5 minutes” to “I’m thinking we could get the house packed up and loaded on trailers in a day.”

???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Repeated by another man this morning, who is our eyes and ears in the field.  I think he was trying to be both reassuring (as in “you’ll be fine”)– to have your valuables and irreplaceable items ready to go–to we’ll all help you pack everything up and take it away.

I told the dear husband, actually several times now, I’m taking my cues from him as to whether or not to be worried.  Whether or not to escalate to DEFCON 5 or stay at 2 or 3.  He just looks at me blankly.  He’s all over the board.  One minute he’s talking about packing the entire house up.  The next he’s telling me, in that exasperated voice with a raised eyebrow/eyeroll, to not worry.  That there’s a 10% chance it will get here in 12 days.

What evs.

It’s fire.  Noone knows what it’s going to do.  Least of all itself.  Mother Nature doesn’t even know.  She’s so confused right now with all the craziness in the world that she doesn’t know which way is up, or north, for that matter.  Too hot and dry in one place….many, big fires.  Too cold and wet in another…massive hurricanes and storms.  She’s busy right now and can’t be bothered by little ol’ me wanting to know if I should pack all the books or not.

It’s a Red Flag Warning day today.  It was dead calm a couple of hours ago, but the winds are picking up.  The fire is fueling to the east (that’s toward us) and to the northeast (toward Parsons Draw).  Hot, dry and windy.  Ideal conditions.  Throw in a few hundred thousand standing, dead beetle-killed trees and we’ve got some scary hours ahead of us.

I’ve spent many, many hours on the inciweb http://inciweb.nwcg.gov these last 3 weeks now.  Good Goddess…three weeks.  I want information.  I want numbers.  I want maps.  I want data.  I pinned the Operations Leader down last Tuesday night and asked him what were the chances it would reach us.  He hemmed and hawed a bit, looked at my husband (as if my husband was going to bail him out..which he didn’t…and which there were probably some eyerolls involved by the way) and finally stumbled over some words.  He eventually said “computer model” and I pounced.  I said “Yes.  Numbers are good.  Give me numbers.  Data is good.  Computer models are golden.”  I seriously think he was wondering how my dear husband survives. (Men.)  He finally spit out “10% in 14 days with the most extreme weather conditions.”

That was on Tuesday.  That was 5 days ago.  I’ve got 9 days to go.  The weather is extreme right now.  It grew 1000 acres yesterday and breached their contingency lines.  If it gets on top of the ridge, it will shoot down the ridge and be at my back door.  I’m not stupid.  (Gold stars to anyone who can name that line from a Tony-winning, sold-out-until-2017 musical.)  {OK, I’m just going to give it to you:  Alexander Hamilton to Aaron Burr upon meeting him: “He said I was stupid.  I’m not stupid.”}  ({A serious sign I’ve been listening to Hamilton too much if I’m now quoting it randomly.})

Wind is picking up here.  I need to take a look out yonder and do a once-over through the house.

Life in the forest.  We’re not stupid.

Blessings be.  On you and yours and all of the firefighting personnel putting their lives in harm’s way.

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Happy Father’s Day to our resident Dad

I wrote a long time ago about our resident dad.  I wrote about how he’s Mr. Man’s Man/Woman’s Man/Everyman/Superman.

And it was written sort of satirically.  But also completely truthfully.

And it was read by others.  And then it was twisted.  By others.  And then it became this hurtful thing, here in our little family.  Which ended up sowing all sorts of discord.  Which I didn’t, and don’t to this day, appreciate.

Mean people suck.  Haters are going to hate.  All that verbiage.

What Evs.

I stand by my initial post about the man we call “Dad” around here.  He is an exemplary fellow.  I remember reading about Paul Bunyan when I was in grade school.  He was a legend, larger than life.  Everything about him was grandiose, on a grand scale.

To be clear, I’m not saying we live with Paul Bunyan.  (And, to be clear, at times, maddening and frustrating might be adjectives I’d reach for.)

But what I tried to articulate many, many moons ago, when I wrote the initial post about the man we live with, was that he truly is a remarkable person.  A remarkable man.

A man for all seasons.

We are so very lucky to share our lives with this man.  He makes our lives better.  He does what he can to light our way.

Thank you Dad-of-our-daughter.  Happy Father’s Day.

Blessings be.

(For your viewing pleasure: our very own Paul Bunyan.)

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A milestone.

Last night a milestone was reached.

Not happily (for me).  And not willingly (by me).  But reached it was.  And I must accept it, kicking and screaming and fighting it every step of the way.

My dearest, darling daughter, who is all of 9 1/2 years old, spent the night at a summer camp.  Away from me.  Away from home.  With the camp counselors and the other campers.   And not me.  Mom.

She called at 9:30 pm to say goodnight and that she loved me and that she missed me.

I was stoic, thank you very much.  I didn’t let her hear me cry.  I smiled and said I hoped she was having fun.  I told her I loved her and I missed her too (I didn’t tell her just how much I missed her or that I couldn’t stand to be here in this hotel room without her and that it made me cry to look at her book bag and her suitcase).

I didn’t tell her my heart was breaking into a million little pieces at how unbelievably fast the last 9 1/2 years have gone.  I didn’t tell her that hearing her voice on the other end, happy and upbeat and growing up, felt as if she was being ripped away from me.  I didn’t tell her of the ache I was feeling deep down in the very fibers of my being.

I didn’t tell her any of that.  I laughed, I smiled, I listened.  I sent love through the ethos, hoping she felt it.  I told her to sleep well and I’d see her in the morning.

Then the phone clicked off and there was silence from the other side.

Then the tears fell like rain.  And the shattering of my heart reverberated in this quiet hotel  room.

And I did what any grown woman does….I called my mother.

Who talked me through the pain, and the angst.  Who offered solace and comfort as I waded through the broken pieces.  Who helped me see that life is change.  And change is good.  And I wouldn’t ever want to sacrifice what is to come by being stuck forever in what was.

We reminisced about my daughter as a baby.  We marveled at the wonder that she is today.  We agreed that life is too fast.  Too unbelievably fast.

And so today, the morning after the milestone, I am grateful for the blessings in my life.  I am grateful to the Universe for blessing me with the gift of my daughter.  For allowing me to be her teacher and her guide and her mother.  And I am grateful to the Goddess for the blessing of my mother–who could help me see the beauty of life as it unfolds around me.

We may not like the changes.  We may not like the speed.  But we must accept life.  On life’s terms.  Or we risk disharmony in our soul.  And our spirits become warped.

Thank you Universe for the blessings in my life.

 

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May the 4th Be With You!!!!

Happy May 4th.

May the Force be with you all.

We love us some Star Wars here.

And in other news….ding dong the witch is dead.

Sorry, couldn’t help myself.  Hasta la vista Senator Cruz.  Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.  It was nice while it lasted?  Nah.  Not one teeny, eensy, itty, bitty bit.  You are not a nice man.  Not nice things happen to not nice people.  I can’t say I feel sorry for you.  Go away.  Go far, far away and don’t come back.  (Said Simba to Scar just before Scar pounced on him and then fell to his supposed death by hyena.)

Anyhoo.  Lots of things swirling in the Universe this day.  The Force is being pummeled by all things bad.  The Donald.  Ugh.  Ugh.  And more ugh.  That guy is like an older (not grown-up) version of Kylo Ren with orange hair.  Just as whiny.  Just as self-absorbed.  Just as icky.

Never fear.  Hillary aka Rey will kick everyone’s butts and the Universe will be safe from the Dark Side for a little while longer.

On that note, I must get my shitake mushrooms together (trying not to swear, so I’m substituting words…see if you can figure that one out) and get in gear.

Hyper drive if you will.   We’re off to DC tomorrow for a couple of days and we are NOT ready.

The sun is shining.  The hummingbirds are coming.  I can just feel it.  I’m so excited.  I love those little guys.  They’re my best buds.  Such JOY!!!

Blessings be.

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Does he really think we are all that stupid? We being “the womenfolk.”

I can’t sit on it anymore.  I’m going to spew forth some political garbage, so if that’s not your inclination, then, in the words of one befuddled, Jedi-mind-tricked Stormtrooper “Move along.”  (Name that movie and receive a gold star for the day.  Name the Jedi-mind-tricker himself and receive another gold star.)

You’ve been warned.

Does the estimable, esteemed Senator from Texas, none other than Ted Cruz, really think that by nominating a woman for his running mate (which, WHICH, is a totally different paragraph, but for sake of argument, let’s say it’s completely normal to nominate a running mate without being nominated yourself)…lord love a duck where was I?  Does he really think that by naming a woman to “his ticket” all of us womenfolk will suddenly see the light and praise the lord and bow to the ground and say thank you, thank you, you’re the one???

Sheesh.  I thought the stupidity of John McCain and his blunder that has blundered along now for eight nauseating years would have been warning enough that WE AIN’T THAT STUPID!  We, of course, being the womenfolk.

Sheesh.

I’m really trying to cut down on my sailor mouth utterances around here.  Trying to project a more dignified image.  Trying to be a good impression for my daughter.  (Didn’t do so well last night, uttered something that even the husband looked at me askance over.  Had to quickly backpedal.  Learning curve, what can I say?)

Anyhoo.  Ted Cruz.  Carly Fiorina.  Can you say double nails on a chalkboard?  Ted Cruz’s voice is all creepy and slimy and makes my skin crawl with his self-righteous, condescending, contemptuous attitude.  As if he’s some father figure, educating the masses (that’s us) on how to be human or something.  What evs.  I can’t even find the right words to describe him, he’s so indescribably disgusting.  And then we add little Ms. Fiorina to the mix.  Oh lord love a duck, a goose and a turkey.  The woman who won only one primary vote, who insisted she saw something she didn’t see on some doctored videos, who gladly throws the womenfolk under the semis, the buses, the cars, the trains…the you name it.  That woman.  She’s supposed to be the savior of Ted Cruz’s gambit.  And to then be one heartbeat away from the Presidency?????????????????????

Wow.  That thought just took my breath away.  Can you even imagine?  Oh the horror.  It’d be like imagining President Trump.

And now I need to go find the brain bleach.  And something to calm my nerves.  And maybe to begin filling out passport applications for all of us.  And deciding whether Canada or Australia (that’s where the 9 year old says she’s heading if The Donald is elected President) would be a better destination.

Blessings be.

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When the Universe gives you 30+” of snow, make a snowman. Of course. And various and sundry other things. UPDATE!

Forgot to add this in:

 

 

 

The following pics came from last week’s dump (of snow that is).  That one kept us from going anywhere (dance, work, everywhere except the backyard).  So then that melted.

And now we have another foot (read 12″) of snow on the ground.  And more falling.  Good heavens, as my late Grandma Georgia used to exclaim.

IMG_1936 IMG_1937 IMG_1938 IMG_1940 IMG_1941 DSC05602 DSC05603 DSC05604 IMG_1943 IMG_1945 IMG_1947 IMG_1949

The last picture was a couple of mornings later when the sun finally decided maybe it would make an appearance.  I title this one “I’m melting, I’m melting.”

Then we had grass again.  Green albeit due to the incredible amount of moisture.  And now…white.  As far as the eye can see.

Holy moly moses but there is a lot of snow out there.  I don’t feel like going out and taking the same old pictures of the same old snowdrifts and same old prettily falling snowflakes.

So I’ll just refer you to the above pictures, because that’s the way it looks right now.

I would like to point out the absence of political references this morning.  I’m refraining and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have not to let ‘er rip!  Believe me you, I am containing an unbelievable amount of stuff in my cranium and I would caution that at some point, most likely in the near future, it is going to be too much and the lid will blow off.  I’m just saying.  It’s coming.  It’s coming.  Sort of like winter.  Though, in our case, it came and has never left.   It teased us a bit in early March.  But it’s back with a vengeance.  I simply cannot explain to you how much snow is out there.  And how much is falling at the moment.  Lord love a duck but that is a lot of snowflakes raining down on us.

Can’t do a thing about it.  So we simply have to accept it.  And, as always, I emphasize the fact that every single snowflake, every single drop of precipitation is one more chance to mitigate possible fire danger.  So I’m never going to plead for it to stop.  I would much rather “endure” snow and then mud (ugh, the mud) than be poised to flee at a moment’s notice should fire ensue.

Got to get to math and spelling and vocabulary and the Electoral College and whatnot.

Blessings be.

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