My Thoughts | Playing for Time

Spring really is here … right?

31 Mar 2015 2 Comments

by Judy Smith in My Thoughts, Photos Tags: beauty, springtime

Working on a couple of things, but they require me to think so it’s slow going. Plus spring fever makes me want to sit on my balcony all day drinking various things from coffee to wine while Maddie wanders in and out and sasses the neighborhood. The Bradford pear trees and forsythia are in bloom, the sun is out, and a Rasta chick just walked down the sidewalk in a barely-there top, skinny jeans, sandals, and a stocking cap over her hip-length dreads. Rasta chick white. Cool. #whymeloveitsomuch

This is Lawrence and how the day feels …

Moving on …

19 Mar 2015 4 Comments

Life progresses in loops and whorls, never backtracking but occasionally slipping into neutral. Gearing up again and finishing a few things is always a thrill, so we’re celebrating the fact that after eighteen months and a half-dozen or more 600-mile round-trips, the condo is EMPTY — and if there are still two things there for other people to get, nobody told me about it, I know nothing. We’ve re-listed the property with a different agency and an agent who from all indications is a winner — selling the heck out of the town in all price ranges and she’s fabulous to work with. Keep a good thought for us — this is the last piece of the “Move” puzzle and the only one that didn’t drop into place right away, due entirely to the housing market there.

Rainy and chilly today and we’re in recovery mode. Kim turned gray at one point yesterday while we were hauling stuff up the stairs, and I’m perpetually not much help at all, in fact “if you need to sit down that’s great but you can’t stand there” is mostly what it’s about for me. An inhaler fixes his problem but not so simple with mine such as they are. And Madison, for the first time in our experience, got carsick on the drive home. Riding in her backseat bed, watching the landscape roll by, head on her paws, making eyes at us and smiling … when we turned around again she was curled in a ball looking like a sad bedraggled little weasel. Luckily we caught a break in that she never did upchuck the googly bits we shouldn’t have been sneaking her from the road-food bags, and happily this morning her lethargy and ennui have passed. She’s doing tricks for treats again, and she’s had a bath — there was really no choice, she’d picked up so much dust and dirt while she was “helping” she looked radioactive. The little mop is sleeping it off now, after giving me the stink-eye about the bath — she loves them but didn’t appreciate shivering and considered us hard-hearted, I’m totally sure.

Image by Judy Smith

Cinnamon Roll Cake!

15 Mar 2015 3 Comments

Yes, since you’ve all been so good about not making note of little inconsistencies in these trying times … other than that original Bad Girl, Miss Snarky Pants, http://paltrymeanderings.com, who for whatever ungodly excuse has yet to tag me in a new post of her own … we’re running a Sunday Bonus. Kim made this cake yesterday before the KU/Iowa State game and its gooey buttery brown-sugary goodness gave both of us reason to go on after our team’s unfortunate loss. You in turn are guaranteed to need this recipe before March Madness ends, and I know you’re thanking me: Cake: 3 c. flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 c. sugar
4 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 c. milk
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
1/2 c. butter, melted

Topping:
1 c. butter, softened
1 c. brown sugar
2 Tbsp. flour
1 Tbsp. cinnamon

Directions: Mix the CAKE ingredients together except for the butter. Slowly stir in the melted butter and pour into a greased 9×13 pan. For the TOPPING, mix all the ingredients together until well combined. Drop evenly over the batter and swirl with a knife. Bake at 350 for 28-32 minutes.

Glaze:
2 c. powdered sugar
enough milk to make a runny glaze, about 6 or 7 tablespoons
1 tsp. vanilla

Drizzle glaze over cake after letting it cool slightly. Top with vanilla bean ice cream and try not to weep at first bite.

{And although the luscious photo up top looks similar to the Honey-Bun Cake Recipe that’s been enjoying a decent run here … not the same, not the same. Two cakes, each fabulous in its own right.}

Image by Judy Smith

PEANUT BUTTER CHOCOLATE CHIP CREAM CHEESE COOKIES

14 Mar 2015 3 Comments

Yes, these exist, and they melt in the mouths of those who eat them, I have that on good authority. They’re also fun to make, pretty to eat, and you can switch those two things around for entertainment. Tell me this doesn’t look like your grandma’s kitchen when she was on crack.

Ingredients:
 1 can seamless crescent rolls (or pinch together seams on a regular can, or make your own.) {WHAT??}
8 oz cream cheese, room temperature
1/3 cup sugar
2 tsp vanilla
¾ C mixed peanut butter and chocolate chips

Directions:
Beat sugar, cream cheese and vanilla together until smooth and creamy.

Unroll the crescent roll sheet onto lightly floured surface. Stretch dough (you can use a rolling pin), then trim the edges for a nice rectangular shape. A pizza cutter is great for trimming edges of dough. {I didn’t say that about the pizza cutter because what would I know?}

Spread the cream cheese mixture over top of the crescent sheet, leaving 1/2″ around the edge.
Sprinkle chips on cream cheese – press lightly to aid in rolling.
Roll the crescent sheet up tightly, from long side to opposite long side (helps to have four hands) and wrap in your favorite brand of clingy stuff.
Place in freezer for at least 2 hours. It won’t get really solid as the cream cheese mix won’t freeze hard.
When chilled preheat oven to 350°.

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper (prevents sticking and helps in cleanup). {Honestly, there are still phrases out there that make me want to go back to the kitchen, but so far the short-term memory thing is still kicking in on demand.}

Slice the crescent roll into 1/4″ slices. They won’t keep the precise round shape, but that is fine! {You bet it is, because your mother isn’t standing over your shoulder anymore oh hi whoever’s mom, you are so lovely in that sweatshirt is that the color this year? Jeez, who knew you could appear out of nowhere like that, somebody’s mom … or whoever?}

Look at the ghosts, living or dead, that haunt your creative-idea board, the ones that turn your Pinterest projects into panic attacks because they WILL.NOT.TURN.OUT.F*CKING.PERFECT. AND.THE.WORLD.IS.NOT.FAIR.DAMMIT. {Yes, that IS part of the original recipe, I’m frankly surprised you would ask.}

Bake on prepared cookie sheet for 12 -14 minutes until crescent roll appears golden brown.
Cool on the parchment paper or wire rack.

{I don’t know how many melty things this makes because I am not the cook. Clearly a bit of attentive hands-on research would not be out of line. I’ll get back to you … but please don’t bug me about it.}

Image by Judy Smith

Tuesdays were for what?

11 Mar 2015 4 Comments

The Grand Purge of 2015 is currently underway here at Chez Smith so everything that was on my desk … sticky notes, calendar pages, scribbled-on envelopes, wrinkled business cards, Twix wrappers … is in a heap on the bed and I can’t remember what Tuesdays are supposed to look like here on the blog because my notes are in there somewhere. And who has the energy to scroll back … ? Getting rid of that big stupid pile in the middle of the bedspread was my Tuesday goal. Instead, oh look, it’s WEDNESDAY already! Time to shift the detritus from love seat to bed again and see what happens.

Seems to me Tuesdays have been about thankfulness lately, which rhymes with beauty, which gets us back to Monday’s good intentions. Are you OCD at all? What are the things that hook you in and you can’t get enough of twenty-four hours a day because they engage your brain and ignite your passions? And then a morning dawns, the next week or years down the road, when you wake up and can’t find two fricks to give about any of it. And it feels kind of sad but mostly it feels like the most liberating thing that’s happened in too long.

Facebook and I reached an impasse like that the other day, one of many but this time totally out of left field. We’ve agreed to stay friends, but we’re negotiating a little break from each other for health reasons — it’s an increasingly unhealthy place for me to hang out because my reserves are so pathetically low. I can cite chapter and verse, but for now it seems sufficient to say that I’m out of energy for the general ugliness, and sharing my truth just annoys the crap out of people if it isn’t also theirs. I woke up last Thursday with the settled knowledge that it’s not my job, man, and I have to tell you I feel SO much better now that I no longer care.

So I’m trying to make Facebook about relationship again without selling out. We’ll see how long and how evenly my psyche handles the dichotomy — it’s guaranteed to be fascinating. We should talk more about this tomorrow because I clearly haven’t solved the whole puzzle yet and I have a feeling there’s helpful advice out there that could open some windows. I know it all comes back to beauty and beautiful places — living in them, creating them, facilitating them. God, it’s probably something as cliché as “Be the beauty you wish to see in the world.” Nooooooooooo, that sounds so pathetically passive and ineffective. But bottom line, probably yes. Because the really beautiful people do get trampled in life, but while stuff’s hitting them they’re shedding pollen and sloughing off seed pods that take root like science and make places for change to happen.

It’s obvious that the earth is losing its sparkle and could benefit from a beauty infusion, so I’m going to let myself think about all this for a while because it’s what we here in the office like to refer to as overwhelming. Meanwhile, from the Playing for Time desk, a wonderful Wednesday to you all. Make your corner of it beautiful if you can.

Does this mess with your head like it does mine?

I mean if you could know.

Image by Judy Smith

Coming to you from beautiful downtown Lawrence …

09 Mar 2015 2 Comments

Sunny sky, high clouds, shadows like spring, a little green in the trees. Somebody’s running a weed-eater. Maddie’s sleeping, Kim’s writing, TV’s murmuring, I’m observing. Below my window, the intersection of 8th and Rhode Island is a shifting collage of cars, bicycles, walkers and joggers, fire trucks and ambulances, gaggles of people who clearly have no clue but are just as happy as if they had good sense, couples, families, lone souls, old bushy-bearded guys who sit on the wall for a while, plastic grocery bags hanging on their walkers, dredging up resolve to make it on home. Sometimes nobody, nothing, for a whole minute. And then parents and babies, big kids and buses, and so many dogs. Students going back and forth to Mass Street or the Hill, and after dusk, revelers. Yummy little word. Revelers. Revel. Revelry.

rev·el·ry
ˈrevəlrē/
noun
noun: revelry; plural noun: revelries
1. lively and noisy festivities, especially when these involve drinking a large amount of alcohol

“sounds of revelry issued into the night”

Sounds right. The energy flowing from Mt. Oread infuses everything here with youth and hormones so that even the commonplace has a zingy undertone. It’s a beautiful place to be, this town, and lately I’m seriously thinking about beautiful places. More tomorrow …

MASS STREET IN FULL REVEL

Image by Judy Smith

Today’s drama on As the Eye Turns …

01 Mar 2015 Leave a comment

March — it’s what time DOES. Snow fell all day yesterday and the ground is white, but spring is, even as we speak, gathering up little robins and crocii and dandelions, wheee, and it will all be showing up here any minute now!

The passage of time is so very relative, and that effect seems to be accentuated when your brain is on the fritz. The day of the initial biopsy my surgeon said, “If it’s malignant we’ll do an excision, and if necessary a skin graft ….. you’ll come back in five to six weeks, we’ll remove the stitches, and you should be good to go.” Crap, what did I know from what he actually said, I don’t hear for beans!

The day before my six-week check-up we figured out that I’d misunderstood parts of the process, but it was not yet clear just how delusional I was. And then the appointment took all of ten minutes, not counting iPad time in the waiting room. I’m not complaining, let the record show, my doctor and his assistants are lovely people who excel at what they do and I adore them. But it was quickly apparent that no stitch-release stuff would be happening at that present time. Ninety-degree turn in the Expectations Hallway.

THE GOOD NEWS: The graft site is healing beautifully and we’re right on schedule (the correct one). After the next six weeks there’s an appointment to see how much longer the graft needs to cure. I was indeed self-deluded, but now I know and all is well. Most important, this is neither fatal nor permanent. And life goes on.

So it’s at least a year-long process to reach total healing — I have friends who will deal with health issues for life. One lost an eye at age two … and I’m whining about stitches holding an eyelid down for a few months.

NOTE TO SELF: You are not allowed, for the duration, to apologize for looking demented, not to anybody, even if you happen to bump into President Obama on Mass Street next week. {Sorry, deal’s off for the president.} But you’ll get to walk away from this at some point, maybe even by summer, and that’s almost not even fair. Your friends who’ve had to actually give up body parts are hoping nobody notices, too, and they don’t get a pass, so own your I’ve-been-drunk-for-a-week eye and live your life.

So yeah, “March is the month that God designed to show those who don’t drink what a hangover is like.” –Garrison Keillor

ENJOY!

Image by Judy Smith

Feels like a HumpDay …

25 Feb 2015 4 Comments

4:00pm. Good news and bad news so far today. Rewind to …

10:45am. Kim returns from his annual cardiology exam/report full of great news — the sonogram shows no sign of muscle damage, his blood pressure read 116/63 in the office, and he is, in clinical terms, healthy as a horse. Everybody hugs and does the happy dance and the house feels warm, and safer than it did at 9:45 before his doctor said to him “You should be around for a very long time.”

11:45am. My surgeon’s assistant calls to remind me about tomorrow morning’s appointment, which I think is for finishing the graft and freeing my eyelid again but is simply a check-up, at which time Dr. Khan will determine how much longer the graft has to “bake.” I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

11:46am. A meltdown may or may not take place, after which Kim takes me to Hog Wild BBQ for a loaded baked potato bigger than my head. Carb therapy.

2:00pm to present. Lying prone in a darkened room does wonders for temporary insanity, and by darkened room I mean Facebook and WordPress. By *lying prone* I mean I’ve intentionally flat-lined for a while, and by *temporary insanity* I mean batshit crazy.

4:15pm. It’s all good news, of course. A delay in ditching an irritant does not a tragedy make, the graft looks like it’s healing perfectly, and my well-worn face has not been further marred — the scar is going to fade beautifully and who really cares!

Staying cozy tonight with Kim and Madison and feeling grateful. Another HumpDay conquered.

Image by Judy Smith

It’s like life …

24 Feb 2015 1 Comment

… you just jump in somewhere.

I fell asleep last night thinking “Two more dayszZzzzz.” Yes, kids, this Thursday morning the finish work on the skin graft will happen and the stitches at the inner and outer corners of my eye will be released and life will go on. Just like that. Moment of silence, please, while I pay homage to the preceding two months that passed in spite of me. Thank you.

So … as I was saying, anything can derail us from writing. It’s a challenge for me to stay focused on the best day, and because I’m a pansy-ass I have to say that the past sixty days or so, taken in their entirety, will not make my “best” list. Parts of them were excellent, of course … but I digress.

The eye thing is turning out to be a bit of a watershed event (one in a continuing series) in ways I’m still figuring out. At first it was the teensiest bit scary, and then it was painful, and then it was, and still is, just a nuisance. It knocked me off my writing rocker, but lonnng since I could see in stereo again I’ve just hung around down here on the floor hoping nobody would notice. The horse waits …

My dearest, sweetest, most wonderful, funniest, very possibly smartest WordPress/Facebook/Real True Friend Cristy Carrington Lewis triple-dog challenged me to a write-off, first poster wins. This is me posting but I hope she wins, she’s so precious. Go say hello at http://paltrymeanderings.com. She answers to Miss Snarky Pants and she writes a “Humor Blog for Horrible People.” I ❤️ her.

Here’s to you, darling girl. Much success as you travel through the blogosphere, and not only in besting silver-haired adolescent seniors (my truth is safe with you, no?) … but in making your mark, of course.

Image by Judy Smith

Yes. Most emphatically still here.

15 Feb 2015 8 Comments

Anyone between 40 and 65+ gets this — once it starts you’ll do everything cheap and painless to make it stop. And by it of course I mean aging. I squandered at least 25 years’-worth of primo brain cells cursing every line, gray hair, and extra pound — “STOP! STOP IT!! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!!! GIVE ME SOME TIME TO MENTALLY PREPARE!! {Interweave creative language of your choosing.}”

Over the years it’s inexplicably gotten more challenging to match up the two realities: I don’t feel any older in my psyche, I’m in fact regressing and there are those who own evidence to prove it, but my exterior road map is relentlessly becoming more detailed, my once-blonde/brown/henna-ish hair has at long last come out of the closet as its own true amazing silver, and my late-life-acquired supplemental mass is stubborn and sneaky so I’ve decided to own it for warmth, comfort, and familiarity.

The rush in all of this is that it doesn’t feel like I’m giving up. I only have to adapt to the kindergartener around my waist until winter’s over — it’s cruelly cold outside — and then I’m thinking I’ll work on it again. Or … you know ….. just possibly not, really, not in any stressed-out sort of way. Because even though my lines and veins are more visible now, I’ve survived to a point where this body’s pretty freaking okay for its years and experiences. And I’m in love with my shiny silver hair that Shelby at the barbershop cuts for $10+tip and gives it a life of its own so that I might have 99 problems but my hair isn’t ever one of them. (If I wanted to pull senior rank on her she’d cut it for $5 and probably say about her tip “Oh honey, that’s fine, go buy a coffee or something.” But WTF, are you kidding?! Baby Jesus, don’t ever let me get THAT kind of old!) So anyway how truly awful could it be to haul around more pounds than my body was designed for? Oh, wait … right … wasn’t taking the whole Life & Death thing into account. So … you know … erroneous THERE, but …

Well, so I’m going with two out of three unless or until I can change, but meanwhile that tiresome head-voice has gone strangely silent. After all those years of fighting my body … okay, it was a half-hearted effort at best … she and I are starting to feel like real friends. Not like, hey I forgive you for being such a biotch and embarrassing me … just … hey … no forgivey-stuff required, I’m you and you’re me and we like each other fine and this feels good. And wow, hey, look at all the options that just opened up!

“Having work done” was never part of my bucket list, and after having my face sliced and stitched up last month I can tell you that there’s no way I’d do it voluntarily just because things weren’t close enough to perfect. The twelve women in the slideshow linked here are some of my best role models — I hope you’ll revel in their happy stories!

http://www.purpleclover.com/entertainment/3543-12-stars-say-no-to-plastic-surgery/

I love this woman like Kanye loves Kanye!

Image by Judy Smith

Grown Up Game Day Cheesy Beer Dip

07 Feb 2015 4 Comments

The Kansas Jayhawks will be playing basketball in about twenty minutes over on the hill and here on HD, so we’re in Snack Mode. Here’s a variation on the usual white-guy queso, and I’m sure you can think of all kinds of ways to personalize it. Enjoy!

“There are certain times when we are totally okay with indulging in ridiculously yummy foods that we know are probably less than great for our health. Sitting around and watching the big game with friends and family is one of those times when we’re just happy to be around loved ones and we like to soak it all in. (Much like the piece of bread when we dunk it into this dip!)

This beer cheese dip is sinfully delicious and we’re not sorry! Use your favorite beer—keeping in mind that lighter draughts will produce a lighter dip and vice versa—and cheese, gradually melt and blend it all together and you’re golden. You do need to plan out the rest of your party prep, since this dip is best made right before serving, but it’s really easy and packs a flavorful punch, sure to be everyone’s favorite!”

Beer Cheese Dip
Yield: 2-2 1/2 cups

Ingredients

1 cup ale or lager (or your choice beer; light and crisp will result in a lighter sauce, etc.)
1 cup cheddar cheese, grated
2/3 cup milk
1/2 cup pepper jack cheese (optional)
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon dry mustard
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
tortilla chips, for serving
Directions

Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat and add in flour. Stir roux for 2-3 minutes, or until smooth and pasty and flour has had a chance to cook (but not burn).
Whisking continuously, gradually whisk in milk until smooth. Then pour in beer and stir until fully incorporated.
Raise heat to medium-high and let mixture simmer lightly. Stir in Worcestershire sauce and dry mustard and season with salt and pepper.
Continuing to stir, let cook for about 4 minutes, or until sauce thickens.
1/3 cup at a time, add in grated cheese and stir until (almost) fully melted. Then add another handful. Continue with remaining cheese.
Once mixture is smooth and thick, taste and adjust seasoning, if necessary.
Transfer to serving bowl and serve immediately with tortilla chips, crackers, or slices of toasted baguette.

Recipe adapted from Williams Sonoma

http://12tomatoes.com/2015/01/grown-up-game-day-cheesy-beer-dip.html

Image by Judy Smith

Really? Are you kidding me?

04 Feb 2015 4 Comments

See the post before this one? Okay … GUESS. WHAT. DAY. IT. IS!! Yes. Again.

So it may or may not have been a somewhat challenging week in which whimpering, bitching, and one hugh-jass meltdown happened. Pretty sure there was an afternoon where somebody cried for two or three hours and totally freaked out her husband and fluffy little dog. The upside is that the eye — the sumbish in our story — actually felt better afterward, so there’s that.

The days have slipped by and the weather outside has gone from cold to warm to cold again. We’re hibernating … but ready to be sociable. Not today so much, because it’s snowy and wet and feels like 10 degrees Fahrenheit, and what you hear me saying is that unless you’re coming to our house we won’t be seeing you yet, because the fireplace is just too nice, and Maddie and I are snuggled at my desk with the divine little radiant heater Kim got us today, the same Kim who’s adorably zoned out “watching” TV … and we’re just not leaving, you can’t make us leave.

It’s gray here, and cold. I’m glad that never lasts. Grass and leaves and sunshine always feel slow coming back, just like health and well-being, but it all gets here, and mostly on time.

Coming back. Might even be back again tomorrow …

Image by Judy Smith

Tuesdays are so weird …

27 Jan 2015 6 Comments

As I was falling asleep last night I said to no one in particular, since I’m pretty sure Kim was down for the count, “This is going to turn around tomorrow — it will stop hurting so I can stop whimpering.”

Oh, I do adore being right! I can haz gud day!!

Yesterday, though, I didn’t get back here with a recipe, did I. You knew that would happen. Screw it, let’s do something different.

THERE’s a thought that will carry me through an entire day! Plus the sun is shining, and Maddie’s keeping marauding dogs away from our 4th-floor windows, and Kim’s finishing his gorgeous painting project in the next room. Apparently I’m still too young to die, so I’m gonna get on with living today. Make it an amazing Tuesday in your world, and come talk to me about coping mechanisms.

Image by Judy Smith

Wow. Monday, Monday …

26 Jan 2015 Leave a comment

Okay, the wall has been hit, and impact registered — Quasimodo is crying uncle today and crawling under the covers. Because the truth about letting someone, however gifted, cut up your face is that you’re in it till it’s over — there’s no “Time out, guys, we’ll play this again tomorrow.” Nothing like “It’s been six days of hurt, let’s do something else for a while.” No such thing as plucking out your own eyeball and hiding it in the closet ’til next week. And they don’t stress these things before you lie down for the nice nap.

Fortunately, the inimitable Philip Grecian did Monday’s Rant for us on Saturday, so you don’t have to listen to me go on and on here this morning. I’ll just find a recipe and a cool picture to get us caught up, and everyone can proceed with the day!

Meanwhile, “Remember … ‘Monday’ is an anagram for ‘Damn, yo.'” — John Fugelsang

Image by Judy Smith

We survived another week!

24 Jan 2015 2 Comments

by Judy Smith in Citizenship, My Thoughts, Quotations, Saturday Stuff, Wisdom Tags: be real, friendship, life, Photos, politics

President Barack Obama was here in Lawrence, Kansas, on Thursday, a few short blocks away on Mt. Oread. The University of Kansas hosted him and I would have stood in line for hours to get a free ticket, and then for hours more to see and hear him, if my face didn’t look like a jigsaw puzzle and feel like rubbish.

As you know, there was no throwing it back on Thursday because the pitching arm was sleeping it off. No Friday Funnies, because twern’t funny, McGee. Which brings us to SaturYAY and a guest editorial, graciously loaned by my dear friend, playwright Philip Grecian. Thank you, UncaPhil, for sharing your unadulterated thoughts with us.

(By the way, Kim and I love Lawrence because it isn’t just for Smurfs — everybody gets a say here, and plenty took advantage of that opportunity in reference to the president’s visit.)

And here’s Philip …

Been lookin’ over fboo today and see that an awful lot of ignorant people said an awful lot of stupid things while the president was in the area.

I understand if you’re a racist (and some of you are and think I don’t know it), and I understand if you’re a moron (Most of you aren’t. A few of you are, and demonstrate it regularly. I try to deal with you charitably).

Some of you are just blindly Republican (The thoughtful Republicans don’t spew hateful, stupid things. Some of you would be surprised how many thoughtful Republicans are actually reading this. I pray they’ll wrest some power away from the others. It could happen).

When George Bush was president I admit that I didn’t much care for him in the office and said so. Usually I waited till he’d done something that seemed…odd…or clueless…or thoughtlessly mean-spirited, and I’d comment. Usually making a little fun because, well, let’s be honest, he was easy to make fun of.

But, you know, my comments about George Bush…and comments made by others who didn’t like him much…were never as bone-deep mean and hateful and angry as what I’ve read here about Barack Obama. Some of you folks take my breath away with your hate.

And when I ask you why you feel that way…you give me some boilerplate FoxTrot talking point…one that’s usually made up out of whole cloth by some Foxy Barbie or Ken or dissolute Jabba the Huckabee. And if you’re called on it…if it’s pointed out that somebody just made up that “fact,” you’re quiet, retreat, and bring it up elsewhere on somebody else’s wall…like some extremist whack-a-mole.

Whaddya got? “Obamacare?” Wanna bitch about that? Hey, idiot, IT’S WORKING. Wanna talk about how we need to “Take Back America?” Yeah? From whom? He handily won office by vote of the majority. Twice. He reminded you of that, didn’t he?

Wanna talk about how he’s “ruining the country” and how you “can’t wait till he’s gone so we can put America back together?” Yeah? Really? Show me how he’s doing that. Jobs are up, economy’s up, we avoided a Great Depression–The Sequel. We’re better off than we’ve been in a long time.

So why all this palpable…hate?

Racism is all I can come up with…racism spiced up with a little party loyalty on steroids…a lot of “poor me” victimology…and a lot of foolish belief in the Murdochtrine of Fox News.

If George Bush had accomplished what Barack Obama has accomplished, you’d be building statues to the guy. And, except for a very few days when President Obama first took office (No, not two years…not 365 X 2. Do the math to see when Congress was in session during those 24 months), he did it with Congresspeople whose main raison d’être was to keep him–and by extension, the American people–from having any success at all.

And look what he accomplished in SPITE of that.
And just think what he MIGHT have accomplished beyond THAT, if the House, especially, had been working for the country…instead of for their exclusive club…and instead of for the Koch Brothers.

Just think.

For once.

If you are this clueless after all this time, you will always be this clueless. The world isn’t just passing you by, it’s passing over your head.

And you just sit there…engorging yourself with Fox News lies and Koch Brothers treachery.

I pity you.

So very much.

~ Philip Grecian

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Playing for Time

Spring really is here … right?

Moving on …

Cinnamon Roll Cake!

PEANUT BUTTER CHOCOLATE CHIP CREAM CHEESE COOKIES

Tuesdays were for what?

Coming to you from beautiful downtown Lawrence …

Today’s drama on As the Eye Turns …

Feels like a HumpDay …

It’s like life …

Yes. Most emphatically still here.

Grown Up Game Day Cheesy Beer Dip

Really? Are you kidding me?

Tuesdays are so weird …

Wow. Monday, Monday …

We survived another week!

Judy Smith

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