Survival of the Fittest

“Survival of the fittest” seems such an apt phrase for this past week.

First, firstly, foremost–there’s a little prairie falcon circling around the front yard this morning, trying desperately to find breakfast.  He (as always, I’m assuming gender and I shouldn’t as this one could just as likely be a she, and I should be true and respectful to my own gender and should have written “she” to begin with)–but I digress, as per usual–so let me begin again.

I like beginning again.  Do overs you know?  They’re the best.

There is a prairie falcon circling in the immediate front yard desperately attempting to nab one of the stellar jays which, oddly, are of the same size as this little prairie falcon.  Must be a male actually, the longer I think about this.  Only a male would suffer such hubris.  Thinking he could grab out of the air a bird just as big as he.

Sorry to all of my male friends and family whom I love and appreciate and adore.  I’m sure not one of you would fall in the category of inflated egos.

Speaking of.

Inflated egos that is.

And survival of the fittest.

Isn’t it just the tiniest bit of crazy that The Donald is still on top of the heap?  I’d say he’s surviving just fine.  Though he’s got a bit of a challenger in the esteemed neurosurgeon.  Who just happens to believe that evolution is a bunch of malarkey and the Constitution, that was written a couple of hundred years ago, somehow said something very specifically against Islam.  That would be Ben Carson.

Idjits.  Both of them.  But surviving nonetheless.  So what in the sam hell does that say about the American electorate?

Survival of the fittest?  Scary thought.

And moving on.

Yet more signs of survival of the fittest–(which has a direct correlation to evolution of the species, but don’t tell Dr. Carson this)–looks like John Boehner is not.

Surviving that is.

John Boehner resigning.

Be still my heart.

Though, to be sure, the thought of who might end up replacing him sends shivers down my spine and starts the brewing of a migraine.  The crazy is crazier than ever.  Who knows who they’ll come up with?

More surviving of the fittest for the week goes like this:

~the Pope as he survived Congress  (yay Pope Francis, you are the man!)

~the Democratic Party as Kim Davis and her 4th husband have now switched allegiances to the good ol’ Repubs  (good riddance I might say)

~only a few aspens left here with yellow/gold leaves as it was simply too cold in July and then too dry (bye-bye fall, we hardly knew ye)

~the dear darling husband and his big, mean, red truck as he took on the momma cows and the babies who kept walking over the cattle guard (not much of a cattle guard, eh?) into our front yard

~said momma cows and babies as they all ran back over the cattle guard without breaking a leg (sigh of relief)

~me and the munchkin as we climbed to the Eagle Catch again yesterday…it gets easier every year and this year she led the way, up and down

***This causes me such angst.  Bittersweet.  The first time we did it, she was almost 4 and needed to hold my hand up and down.  And it took so much longer with her little legs.  It’s still wonderful, don’t get me wrong.  It just tugs at my heart.  Survival of the fittest–those who can weather the storms of melancholy as the days move into years gone past.  Those who remember to stop and live in the moment and to be grateful for the blessings abundant all around.***

~so far so good as school goes–we’re both still here and in one piece and plodding along at an alarmingly impressive pace (yay us!)

There were more examples of survival of the fittest this week, but they’ve eluded me at the moment and the day needs to be got to.

One little piece of interesting information I stumbled upon.  I suppose this falls under “survival of the fittest” as well, being as the Constitution has survived thus far.

Did you know that there are 4,543 words in the Constitution and NONE of them are the following:  Jesus, Christianity, Bible?

I know, right?

Who would have thought.

The Constitution–NOT based on Christianity.

Great.  Good.  Can we just get on with things then?

 

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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One Response to Survival of the Fittest

  1. barbara coyle says:

    love this post! The little one is so lucky to have you as her mother.
    have loved the last few posts, as always, just haven’t taken time to comment.

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