...hearing that Catholic Bishops are going to DC to have a discussion with male senators/representatives about women's health. What's wrong with that sentence (aside from grammatical issues)??
IT'S 2012!!! (Or, 2112 for some of us!)
Thank goodness that men who are never supposed to have sex, will be talking with men who will never be pregnant. My female parts feel safer now...
BUT! It's Friday, and I have a lovely weekend stretching out in front of me, so no more head-exploding talk. Instead, let's end with an oldie, but a goodie. Have a good weekend my leetle dream kittens!
When I was a young lamblet, the Vietnam War was a regular feature on the evening news. I don't necessarily remember watching it, but I do remember it being on in the background... it was hard to miss, even for a kid who was distracted by other more important things such as toads, Liddle Kiddles, and was Frankenstein really buried under that big cement slab back in the woods... What I do remember noticing though was that this war seemed to be playing out in an area with no buildings. After seeing endless newscasts filled with jungle green, I came to the only conclusion I could... they must go somewhere with limited population in order to "have war"! Yes, that's it! Because if you're going to do something as silly as have a war, it would at least be best to have it in an area where there would be little collateral damage. No, it would be better to have some remote area designated as the fighting area, much like the corner of the rec room where my brothers were sent when they couldn't get along. You go to that area, free of items to be hurt by your flailing... you flail, and then you see the errors of your way and get back to life as you knew it. Yes, this made sense to my single-digit mind. It was a way for me to make sense of war.
And then I believe I shared this revelation with an adult... the next thing I remember, my father was showing me a photo or two of London after the Blitz. Once again, war made no sense. My mind tried to make sense out of what I was seeing, but there was no sense to be made. As Dylan Brody so succinctly puts it in his current post (go read it):
War cannot be waged decently. War cannot be waged or supported with clean hands or with a clean conscience.
War still makes no sense to me. What makes even less sense is that in 2012, it's still such a viable option.
I often wonder what my lamblets think of it, both of them older than I was when I first came to my "designated war area" conclusion... but I'm guessing it makes even less sense to them. Even though we now have a continuous news cycle, war and its ugly impact seems to be covered even less than some 40 years ago... the true impact so far removed from daily chatter... from anyone's chatter.Best to keep it quiet... best to keep shopping.
I grew up loving winter, loving bountiful snow, which is a good thing considering I grew up in an area referred to as "The Buckle on the Snowbelt". When the first big snow would fall, usually in early November, I would be giddy with delight. My mother would respond with, "Wait until you have kids... and places to drive." I didn't think that would harsh my snow-mellow and until last year, it didn't.
Last winter was harsh on an existential level. It was one of those that grabbed hold of your vulnerable spots, made you drop to your knees and cry, "UNCLE!!!" I don't even think I realized how bad it was until we moved into a truly miserable spring and there was no mental reserve left, just raw nerves and angst.
It was with these memories so fresh in my mind, that we moved into yet another cold, unyielding season. The snow has been overly-generous, the cold, cold enough to remind you that most of what we call, cold, is really not cold at all. The fluctuations we've experienced are wide enough to remind you that we're all walking on the edge of bipolar, weather included. But even for all of this ratcheting up, this winter has not been as dark as last winter. This winter has instead been a curiosity, inviting my observing eyes and my sense of intrigue. Yes, there have been highs and lows, but lows are tolerable.... as long as you don't have to stay there.
This morning, as I was returning from driving Grizzled to the train, I was amazed at what was going on outside. It's snowing like mad, the temperature is plummeting and I felt very in tune with it and was thinking I was thankful, in some odd way, that it was here. I've never wanted to live in a 2 season place for two long. There are days in March that this sounds attractive, oh hell, I usually hate March all together, but for the majority of the time, I love the changes and the extremes a season can bring... even gray, damp, chilly March. I would be a more boring person if my personality were only defined by summer. I would be more insane if my personality were only defined by winter. I like the fact that I'm being formed by them all. I'm also thankful that during this winter, I am able to take the ride it's offering and not be swept away to scary places by its undertow.
Snackie is miffed. Snackie is perplexed. Here he is, the most powerful snack cake in the world and yet did he get a call from Blagojevich?? Was he offered a Senate seat?? Hellz no! Maybe Snackie doesn't have enough hair... Maybe G-Rod forgot that it's Snackie's world and he just lives in it. That's ok. Snackie will continue to rule while G-Rod gives up thoughts of the White House and moves into the big house.