Playing for Time

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Oh, my! Thunder and lightning, very very frightening! This odd lil’ duck has been sitting here in the dark since she got up, listening to the raindrops on the windows, and it’s life-giving. It’s now pouring down in buckets and can keep this up all day because it’s ideal weather for ducks. It’s the antithesis to these past weeks of grief, outrage, disbelief, and sheer terror at the possibilities, and it couldn’t be more welcome. Feels like sweet balm and I hope your day will hold a big dose of that, in whatever format hits best.

When life piles on and insists on being a whole chaos agent, I go looking for the glow-up, the uplift, the good news that hides ’til it’s safe to come out. Facebook’s plethora of tearjerker stories are aimed right at my heart, and IDNC whether they’re 100% factual or based on composites, they do me good. Because here’s the thing…

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I’ve learned that, contrary to everything taught to me by my mom and grandmas, I can indeed hate. I can do it and fully own it, and it’s a cleansing fire but it’s exhausting. And soul-killing. So we press “every onward,” boys and girls, trying to keep our hearts right, if only in the interest of good health.

The lesson of war and bloody conflict is this, every time, but it’s the very one we can’t absorb and remember…

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Now that I’ve said the word “war,” I might as well let Heather Cox Richardson say the rest…

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This one makes me laugh, so I like it a lot. Alexander Hamilton was 21 years old when he became a founding father, right around the time of this “quote,” which sadly is what’s called in polite circles “fake.” Alas…

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The sun’s been out a couple of times, so maybe the delicious rain is over for a while, but it was a sweet start to the weekend. You all have a peaceful one!