madranchwife

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.

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.

It’s always great to start a week in the middle of it, I have decided.  My world, my rules.

So, to recap.

1.  It’s not technically ok to begin a sentence with “so.”  This was brought to my attention by the 9 year old I live with.  Grammar lessons and all.  Conjunctions.  And also in this new bit of information, I was not aware there were various forms of conjunctions.  Up until this point, we’ve learned them as “and, but and or.”  Period.  However, there are also subordinating and correlative and…and…for the love of Pete I can’t remember the third one.  What evs.  I’ll just be happy I learned and retained two of the three.
2. A 9 year old’s vocabulary can be quite astounding.  In discussing the eating habits of orangutans last night at the dinner table, she informed her father that chimps, gorillas and apes, as well as orangutans, are able to use all of their “appendages” to eat with.  Grasping toes and all.  Appendages mind you.  Not arms, or legs, but appendages.
3. One ml of very expired euthanasia solution (as in expired seven years ago) is enough to send a suffering little mouse to the Great Mouse Paradise.  This is a painful story for me (and yes, for the little guy too) and it hurts just thinking of it.  I know, I know.  I’ve written enough the trapping of mice that you would think I would be inured to the deaths by now.  This guy was suffering.  And there was no way he was going to survive if I put him outside in the cold.  So (boy, it’s hard not to start a sentence with that word), I did what every veterinarian does.  I went in search of the very long expired euthanasia solution that is kept on hand for emergencies.  I have been wondering if it would still pack a punch if necessary.  For a mouse on his way out it worked.  Not sure if it would work in anything else.
4. Discussions of dead things (for lack of a better word) are something that come more easily to me, thanks to veterinary school.  I am trying to make it a commonplace occurrence around here so that the little one begins to not be afraid of death, but rather sees it as part of the Circle of Life.  Regardless, the Mouse Episode proved too much and she didn’t want anything to do with it.  She likes mice.  She thinks they’re cute.  She probably would have kept the little guy in her sock drawer last summer if I hadn’t got involved and chased him down. (I let that one go outside.  With a stern talking to.  He didn’t listen and ended up in the trap the next night.  Dumb luck?)
5. Crows are bullies.  And they’ve learned we give out good food here.
6. The rabbits don’t like celery.  (Granted, it was slightly old and it was likely slightly bitter.)  But the carrot tops, lettuce, broccoli?  Heaven.  So we gave them some more last night.  Who knows what else is benefitting.  Let’s hope it’s not the bears.  Things are melting pretty quickly here and it’s warming up slightly.  I expect the bears will come knocking here shortly.
7. The chipmunks are out and about as well.
8. Just because something is offered as “gluten-free” at a restaurant doesn’t mean one should eat it.  We have eliminated so many things from our diet in the last year and a half that even the slightest bit of an offending agent and we suffer the consequences.  Double-edged sword.  Good because our bodies are generally happier.  Bad in that we didn’t know how unhappy they were and if we encounter some of the old stuff, then we are unhappy again.  Ugh.

Well (I would suppose one should not begin a sentence with that word either), it is time to start school.  Past time in all likelihood.  We hit a rough patch a couple of weeks ago and haven’t been able to regain our momentum.  We’ll see if I can fix that.  Now of course, we’re going to have warm spring weather to deal with.  And possible bike-riding weather!!!    From skiing to biking.  The joys of being outdoors!!!!!

Blessings be all.

I woke up this morning and just decided that maybe it was time to stop fighting the good fight.  Wake up and smell the coffee (yummy “Nutrageous” from Jackie’s Java in Fort Collins).  Take a moment to consider the finer things in life.  I realized I needed to get in touch with my socially conservative, ultra-right wing nutty self and love me some Republican candidates.

I ruminated a bit more and came to the conclusion that if you can’t beat ’em, you should just join ’em.   Meaning I should embrace the Dark Side in all of its Dark Side-y-ness.  Revel in the ridiculousness of the Republican righteousness.  Throw caution to the wind and jump into the fray.

Declare myself to be all in for the Elephant.

Come to think of it, I’m kind of not happy about being a Donkey.  Who wants the reputation of being a braying ass?

And then…and then…I had that first cup of coffee.  The caffeine hit my bloodstream like a jolt of lightning.

The fog was lifted from my brain.   My eyes saw the glory of the calendar and I realized I had been completely and utterly fooled by the date.

APRIL FOOLS DAY!

Ha!

I fooled myself.  (And all of y’all, right?)

And now, I can get back to regularly programmed programming.  All is still right with the world.  I have NOT, I repeat NOT, crossed over to the Dark Side.  I will NEVER, I repeat NEVER, become one of them.  Kylo Ren and Darth Vader and the Emperor can have the Donald.  And I have no compunction about seeing him (the Donald) and all the rest of them wither away with dark, dark souls, while in the clutch of the evil ones.

Whew.  Thank the Goddess.  I scared myself for a minute there.  Could you imagine?  It’d be like the worst nightmare EVER.  Waking up and thinking the Republicans were making sense?   I’d have to run screaming into the sagebrush.  Think crazy lady with hair in curlers (nah, I haven’t worn curlers since I was in middle school), in a housecoat (well, I have a long, comfy sweater and slippers), barreling out the front door into a drift of snow four feet high.  Then breaking free, arms akimbo, yelling unintelligibly, “Nooooooooooo.  It can’t be!!!!  What did I do to deserve this fate?????”

That would be me should the above scenario EVER ring true.  This chick ain’t ever gonna be for the Dark Side.

This chick ain’t giving up and throwing in the towel.  I will continue to fight the good fight so that peace and harmony will reign throughout the galaxy evermore.

(Star Wars The Force Awakens is being released shortly in case you didn’t know.  Though, to be sure, we have mixed feelings about it here.  Gracelyn loves, LOVES, Rey.  And totally wants to be her.  I love, LOVE, that she loves the strong female character.  But we both didn’t love, did NOT love, the death of our favorite nerf-herder.  Enough said.)

Blessings be on this April Fool’s Day.  And rest assured, I have not, nor ever will, cross over to the Dark Side.

Holy moly moses.  But we’ve got white.  There is so much snow out there!  Unbelievable.

And no complaining here, mind you.  Just as I’ve written many times before, every single solitary snowflake is important.  We need every last one of them.  It is rather pretty to look at.  It is not so pretty to drive through.

We were supposed to go skiing today, but have decided not to attempt to 1)make it out the “driveway” and 2)make it to the ski area.  There is only about a week left so we really wanted to make it today, but hopefully a couple of days next week and then the season is done.   At least for skiing on the mountain.  Not sure how long the snow will hang around here.  We were already seeing grass and LOTS of mud on the road.  That was an interesting combination yesterday.  Mud below with about 8 inches of new snow on top.

We needed to head up to our cute little rental house in Saratoga to clean up after the last renter left it in complete and utter ruin.  The dear husband loaded us up with all of the necessary cleaning supplies, schoolwork, etc, etc, etc.  (We just don’t travel light around here).  Then we busted our way out to the highway.  And slowly made our way north.

I have no words to describe the state of our house.  Except maybe:  appalling, disgusting, maddening, wretched, shocking…well, you get my picture.  Perhaps.  The woman who broke her lease (which in reality is probably a good thing now) was a complete and utter slob.  I have never seen so much grease.  It coated the kitchen.  I spent literally four hours on just the burners of the stovetop alone.  Four hours.  Then another six hours yesterday attempting to clean the backsplash, the walls of the kitchen, the bathroom.  Wench.  Total wench.  As she’s now calling us asking for the security deposit back.  WHATEVS!

WHAT EVS.

I can barely type this morning my hands are so sore.  I feel I’ve been run over by a truck for all of the scrubbing and scouring I did in the last few days.  Wench.  Total wench.  I simply can not understand how someone can live in such filth.

Abhorrent.  There, I thought of another good word to describe the kitchen.

Anyway.  By 9:30 pm, the dear husband insisted we needed to leave (even though we were NOT done cleaning) so we loaded everything up and headed home.  All good until we got to the “driveway.”  Holy smokes but there is A LOT of snow out there.  And it had blown across the road, drifting into bigger piles.

Luckily we made it in ok.  The mud had finally frozen, so the truck had to just attempt to plow through the drifted snow.

(I have got to stop attempting to type.  My fingers are SO blasted sore I cannot type more than two words without typos.  AAggghhhhhh.)

The sun is peeking out now and lighting up the mounds and mounds of snow.  Pretty.  The trees are completely covered.  Everything as far as you can see is simply white.

Someone needs to be the adult in the room and get school started.  Guess that better be me!

Blessings be.

I would imagine that somewhere Snoopy is wondering what the heck is up.

And I have no earthly (or universe-y for that matter) idea why I’m even writing about Charlie Brown and Snoopy.  That is SO 40 years ago.   Or something like that.  A long time anyway.  I remember having a small Woodstock and a stuffed Snoopy in my collection.  Maybe in grade school.  And we all know how long ago that was.  And we are SO not going there this morning.

I have woken up with a humdinger of a migraine.  It is beyond me then why I felt the absolute need to write a post, right here, right now.  With my head pounding and my stomach doing triple salchows.  The Excedrin (I love me some Excedrin first thing in the morning.  Yay stomach ulcers.) hasn’t quite kicked in.  The coffee isn’t helping any.  All I want to do is crawl back under the covers in the dark bedroom.

But.  That. Isn’t. Going. To. Happen.

Someone needs to be the teacher.  Someone needs to be the Business Manager.  Someone needs to be the Merry Maid who cleans the rental house.  Someone needs to go be a veterinary acupuncturist.  And someone needs to mop the damn floors.

And that someone is–wait for it, wait for it–me.  Yep.  You guessed it.  Little ol’ me.  Not that I’m complaining mind you.  It’s just that on some mornings it all seems a bit much.  Like someone added the one tiny little piece of straw that will ultimately crush me.

In other news, as I try to distract myself from the bass drums in my head beating out a disgusting rhythm, we are sort of “thawing out.”  I can see grass (a bit) and LOTS of mud.  The road is once again, once again, a Slip ‘n Slide.  Good ol’ Bessie (the super fast, not-so-brand-new anymore, red Subaru) makes it to the highway in one piece but with mud all the way up into her innards.  She doesn’t let it stop her.  She just keeps on motoring along. Good ol’ Bessie.

Speaking of motoring along.  My Grams.  Holy moses but that woman is one tough bird.  I told her that on her 98th birthday (January 1st this year) and she laughed.  So now she’s 98 years and almost 3 months young.  She’s into Westerns now.  I think she may have finally seen the light as regards FAUX NEWS and it’s doom and gloom reporting.  Plus, the Donald disgusts her.  She told me so.  And she’s 98, she should know by now who’s got what it takes and who doesn’t.

Also still motoring along–Buck.  Our wonder dog.  We adopted him in July 2009 and at that time were told he was either 9 or 10 years old.  Do the math.  (My head hurts too much right now.)  He’s old.  And still bugging me for treats.  All damn day long.

We have red-winged blackbirds now.  They have the prettiest songs.  The mountain chickadees are trying valiantly to eat from the feeders that are being taken over by the flock of crows.  The dark-eyed juncos have shown up (they take over the chickadees nests when the chickadees head up mountain in the summer).  And, most disturbing of all, I saw a golden-mantled ground squirrel pop up in the backyard.  Funniest thing ever.  He popped up in a 3 foot high snowbank (not drifted, just the snowpack in the back yard), sat there about 30 seconds looking around at the sea of white and promptly dived back down the hole.  Went back to sleep?  These guys are supposedly “protected.”  Whatever the heck that means.  All I know is that they are certainly not in short supply around here.  They breed like rabbits.  They eat all the birdseed.  And they are not scared of a crazy lady running out to the bird feeders, yelling and shouting and exhorting them to leave the premises.  They just continue to pack their cheeks full of as much seed as they can, looking at the crazy lady insouciantly, just daring her to do something more than rant and rave.  And they live in the walls.  And the attic.  And when they get stuck there and do the death-throes dance it is damn annoying.  And then the smell.  So basically, seeing one now is just the harbinger of things to come.  Gophers, moles, voles, holes in my yard, disappearing flowers, mounds of dirt.  Yay.

But.  But.  Also, too, that means green grass and blue skies and Columbine flowers and hummingbirds (my true loves) and sunshine and warm breezes (sort of…don’t think Greek island, Mediterranean warm breezes…more like not quite frigid breezes, as in just above cold–it’s all relative here).  Spring is coming.

First though, a few more days of skiing.  Massive snow over there and we’ve got two more weeks before they close for the season.  At some moments I think it went too fast and at others this winter seems to be dragging on and on.

Babble, babble, babble.  Time to stop stalling and get to the math lesson.  And after that, the rest of it.  Just not the floors.  I’m not mopping the floors ’til the mud is gone.  Because truly, what’s the point?

(See how I didn’t bring in politics?  Yay me!!)

Blessings be.

This is a big day, down yonder way.  Sort of like a mini, personalized Independence Day.  Just for Texans.

(Now, don’t get me wrong.  I love me some Texas.  I have family that resides in that grand ol’ state.  Albeit, not the biggest state in the nation, despite what they like to claim, but a grand state nonetheless.  And I learned some valuable life lessons down there.  Lots of them.  Texas holds a special place in my heart.  And always will.)

All of that being written, today is a big one in the history books for the grand ol’ state.

Wayyyyyyyy back in 1836, the Republic of Texas declared its independence from Mexico.  Yee-haw.  You know.  Alamo, and all that stuff.

Then, in 1861 on March 2nd, ironically, Texas declared their independence from the Union and joined the Confederacy.

Now, this might lead one to wonder, given today’s politically charged clime, is Texas primed for an earth-shattering announcement?

I’m simply pontificating here, not prognosticating.  Don’t take this to the bank.  Actually, I don’t have much else to write about.  It snowed during the night.  Everything that was getting brown and dirty is white again.  There is not a cloud in the bright blue sky and the sun is working mightily to begin melting what it can.  Icicles are dripping off of the roof.  The birds (and cottontails and squirrels and fox and coyotes) have cleared away the snow under the feeders and trees on the northern edge of the yard and bare ground is evident.  However, elsewhere, three and four foot piles of snow remain.

Not quite to mud season yet.  Thank the goddess.  When it comes, it is going to be a mess.  Mess.  Hopefully it will be a long, slow melt so that we can have the most benefit from all of this moisture.

Time to get to school.  Notice how I did not mention one teeny, tiny, itty, bitty, little word about the events of last night?  Or the political goings-on that are going on?

Changin’ my ways.  Turning over a new leaf so to speak.  Even though there are no leaves to be seen for miles here.

Don’t worry.  It won’t last.  The words are piling up in my cranium and will explode out here shortly.  Stay tuned.  I’ll weigh in on the political absurdities shortly.

In the meantime, I’m going to be remembering the look of the bluebonnets in bloom in the Brazos River Valley.

Or something to that effect.  I’m not sure why “Attention K-Mart shoppers” has been stuck in my head since yesterday, but it has, and there you go.    All I can hear is a loudspeaker, blaring in the background, repeating over and over “Attention K-Mart shoppers, blue-light special in Aisle 3, Attention K-Mart shoppers…”  And so on and so on and so on.

The beauty of earworms, eh?

It all started when I listened to just a snippet of The Donald addressing his supporters after his Nevada caucus win the other night.

“…We won the poorly educated.  (pause)  I love the poorly educated.”  The Donald (in his speech)

I had to turn off the radio at that point.  I could not listen to another word.  And then I started thinking about his words.  And what he meant by them.

He won with the “poorly educated.”  And he loves them.

And bless their sweet little hearts, but they think that is a compliment?  “They” being whomever “they” are.

Are people so blinded by this megalomaniac with the bad hair and a wife who cannot speak proper English (but insists she “followed the law as immigrant”) that they cannot see this as the insult it is????

The Donald loves him some ignorance.  Because basically the man said he loves ignorant people.  Poorly educated?

That is NOT a compliment.  He is NOT your friend people.

I so wish we could create a big clean-up in Aisle 27–mop up The Donald and his bombastic, hate-filled, ignorant (yup, he’s as ignorant as they come), racist, xenophobic, megalomaniacal rhetoric and toss him in the trash bin.

The sorriest piece of news from yesterday was that he has now garnered two Congressional endorsements.  And those two idjits are boasting about how they’ve been getting high-fives and fist-bumps in the Capitol as to what they did.

Mm-hmmm.  Ok.  Well, there you go.  And there goes this great nation.  The blood, sweat and tears shed by our Founding Fathers all for naught as the majority of Republican voters want to elect a person who says he would punch a protestor in the face, force Mexico to pay for a wall and then somehow make (MAKE) China behave.

The stupidity is stupendous.

And in other news, we still have A LOT of snow.  A LOT.  Which makes the dear husband not so happy, but makes the little one and me VERY happy.  We think it is so pretty.  And I personally hope for a long, slow thaw as the water will then be conserved and the danger of forest fires is mitigated just the tiniest bit here.

Cool icicles, eh?  And that “tree” on the back patio?  Branches from the yyyuuuuugge Christmas tree that were cut off to make it fit the living room (yes, I did it again).  Anyway, before I could get to using them, it started snowing, and didn’t stop.  What can I say?

Cheers!  And Blessings be.

(And, the PSA for today, don’t be fooled by people who tell you they love the poorly educated.)

Related to my earlier post about asinine comment made by Senator McConnell regarding the need for Americans to have a voice (ain’t that special how he’s always thinking of us little guys???) are some thoughts wandering around the blogosphere this morning.

Actually, Americans did have a voice already.  And we gone done and used it.  (How’s this puky, folksy way of writin’ workin’ out for ya?  Blasted annoying.  I know.  So I’ll stop.  It was a  tongue-in-cheek reference to a complete idjit unleashed on this poor, unsuspecting country about 8 years back.  I cannot stand that woman.  Didn’t then.  Don’t now.  Will never.  World without end and all that jazz.)

Anyway, the conventional wisdom is that Senator McConnell just might have something with his bloviating about not letting President O make any nominations for the vacant SCOTUS seat because the American people must have a voice in the matter.

Here’s the rub that maybe the good old senator from Kentucky missed:  we the people, the Americans he’s so concerned about, actually did have a voice.  Twice.  And we used it also.  In 2008 and again in 2012.  Two times we used our voice and in so doing, we elected the President of the United States and asked him to act in our stead.

I guess I need to thank Senator McConnell for pointing out this very basic fact.

Do you think he’d take my call?

Tee hee hee.

Mitch McConnell is at it again.  His latest?  Not waiting for the ink to dry on the news of Justice Scalia’s death before announcing that President Obama will not be allowed to appoint a new Supreme Court Justice.

Because why?

McConnell’s reasoning goes something like this:

He believes that the American people should have a voice in the selection of the next Supreme Court Justice and so therefore, henceforth, and whatnot, the vacancy left by Justice Scalia’s death should NOT be filled until we have a new President.

And that makes ALL sorts of sense.  Because somehow when we have a new President (in November, but not truly until February 2017) then we, the American people, the lowly little minions, will suddenly have a voice?  I truly am not following the esteemed Senator’s logic.  If logic would be what the above hogwash could be called.

I’m fairly certain that it is in the Constitution (that little piece of paper that the Republicans like to hide behind and get all warm and fuzzy about–as if Democrats don’t give a rat’s patootie about the founding of this country and the very reasons that it works so well as a democracy?????  I digress.)–back to my point; I’m fairly certain it states in the Constitution that it is the President’s responsibility to nominate a replacement to the Supreme Court when a vacancy occurs.  I would hazard a guess that the Constitution does not state that the sitting President should wait to nominate someone until after a future election.  (In this case, a full year from now until the new President would be able to simply begin acting out the duties of the office.)

Two plus two is not five Senator McConnell.  And I would appreciate it greatly if you would stop trying to get us lowly little minions to believe that it does.

But then there is this little gem from 2005, uttered by none other than the esteemed Senator from Kentucky (no, not the one with the gorgeous hair–the other one):

“. . The Constitution of the United States is at stake.  Article II, Section 2 clearly provides that the President, and the President alone, nominates judges.  The Senate is empowered to give advice and consent.”

Quote taken from an article regarding the use of filibustering nominees and the respect owed to a president’s nominees. (I tried to link to the reference, but as per usual, haven’t quite figured out how to do that seamlessly.  Bear with me.)

So in essence, he was for it before he was against it.  (Senator McConnell that is.)

You know what?  Obstruct all you want.  Play your little political games.  Delay an up or down vote on whomever President Obama nominates.

What evs.

But don’t, DO NOT, use us lowly little minions, the American people, as the scapegoat for your bloviating obstructionism.  DO NOT insult our intelligence by suggesting that we would like to have the highest court in the land, for all intents and purposes, shut down because there might be a snowball’s chance in hell that we, the American people, might have a voice as to who ultimately gets appointed.

DO NOT intimate that we, the American people, want that 9th seat to sit vacant until a year from now.

AND…WHAT IN THE SAM HELL DO YOU THINK YOU KNOW ABOUT THE ELECTION THAT WOULD GUARANTEE A REPUBLICAN PRESIDENT MAKING THAT NOMINATION????

Planning on some shenanigans with electronic ballots?  Purging of voter rolls?  Lost ballots?  Necessary recounts (looking at you Justice Scalia…may you rest in peace eternally thinking of your role in that)?

Senator McConnell, what have you up your sleeve regarding this election?  Do you truly think that Donald J. Trump, the man with the everlasting bad hair day, will be elected President?  (I’m going with the premise that he will get the Republican nomination.  Humor me.)

Lord love a duck but the asininity burns.

The pesky little thing about karma is, in my very humble opinion, it’s sort of like the “gift that keeps on giving.”

You see, poor Cliven Bundy, away up thar in the Northwest, is finding out pretty gol durned quick that mayhaps, perhaps, just mebbee now, he shouldn’t ‘a done some of those things he did back home on his Nevada spread, in the year of our lord 2014.  (Boy howdy does my trusty, faithful Mac not like the words in that there last sentence.  It keeps insisting on proper English and grammar and spelling and whatnot.)

Those words sort of have a certain feel, a certain rhythm, don’t they?

“Poor Cliven Bundy…”

It’s like the first line of an epic ballad.

That’s certainly true.  Epic.  As in EPIC FAIL.

The whole “anti-gubmint, in yo’ face federales, trash-talking, bitter-clinging to their nifty ammo and guns and ammo and 2nd Amendment rights and guns and blustering and dressing up in matchy-matchy camo outfits” just didn’t pan out the way they thought it was going to happen.

Truly a sad day in the alternate reality/universe that the Bundy Bunch seems to inhabit.

In this said reality, Poor Cliven Bundy thinks he should be entitled to free representation in court by the public defender.

?????

Things that make you go “hmmmmm.”

Does he not intuit the irony of asking the government for assistance in defending his long list of charges resulting from thumbing his nose (and guns and whatnot) at same said government?

Or is it just me that finds the irony and hypocrisy a tad bit overwhelming?

It could be just me.

On the other hand, I suppose I should give him (Poor Cliven Bundy) and the Bundy Bunch the benefit of the doubt.  Innocent until proven guilty and all that jazz.

Except that the yahoos created all of their own incriminating evidence by documenting much of what they were doing on social media, live video streams, statements to others (that were recorded), etc, etc, etc.  (As Yul Brenner as the King of Siam most famously states to Deborah Kerr.  Excellent movie that one.  “The King and I.”  They don’t make them like they used to, for sure.)

So the whole “innocent until proven guilty” might not last too long.  I never have truly understood the phrase “rope-a-dope.”  But after seeing Poor Cliven Bundy walk right into the arms of the federales and witness the absolute idiocy of the Bundy Bunch at the Malheur Refuge, one can only marvel at the genius of the feds.  The gol-durned gubmint.  They certainly roped a bunch of dopes.

And, as before, couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch.

I suppose I should now refrain from further comment about the Bundy Bunch and their antics, lest I be accused of kicking a man when he’s down.  Nor would I want to encourage bad karma to rain down upon my head.  Though, to be sure, I have not wished for bad things to happen to Poor Cliven Bundy and the Bundy Bunch.  Maybe an accounting for their transgressions, yes.  But not badness to be rained down upon them.

I mean, in some sense, I’m feeling a tiny bit bad for them, sitting up there in jail cells in a state, far, far away.  But then, on the other hand, they picked the wrong side of the Force.  Darkness always loses.  Good always triumphs.

And on that note, I am finally tired and am going to crawl into bed, where I will wait for blessed sleep to overcome me, just to be awakened by the click-clack, click-clack of the 17 year old Labrador Retriever’s toenails (despite being trimmed yet once again this morning), or the honk-schussing snores of the dear husband.  Or the pitter-patter, pitter-patter of the darling daughter down the hall.

Some nights I yearn for the days of old: earplugs, single life, carpeted floors and blessed, blessed sleep.

But just as quickly, I realize how empty my life would be.  I realize how truly full and blessed it is at this moment.  And I realize I would not trade one single second, not one single second, of this life.

My cup truly runs over and I drink from the saucer.  I thank the Goddess for the blessings in my life.  May they visit yours as well.