A quick glance through this morning's newspaper was discouraging--the Texas House okayed that 80 mph speed limit and the Federal House approved a budget plan which targets women's health issues, children, and the elderly, the Wisconsin judge instrumental in cutting workers' rights was re-elected, albeit by a slim margin, the Mexican government has totally lost control of the province of Tamaulipas. Not to mention the Middle East and suicide bombers. Nor the wildfires which are causing unbelievable havoc and destruction in West Texas, with the loss of at least one life. I know predictions of the world going to hell in a handbsket have been around for centuries, but sometimes it seems all too true. I'm tempted to say this is the worst of times, but then I remember medieval times were pretty awful, and the Industrial Revolution was no picnic for the poor. So I guess we plod ahead day by day, which seems a grim way to live life.
Except my life isn't grim at all, and I sometimes feel guilty that I am exempt from the troubles that beset so much of mankind. Wildfires could hit Fort Worth, but it's not likely they could get to the inner city where I live; a tornado could touch down--it happened a few blocks from here but was minor, and I just trust it won't happen again. Most of those I care about won't be adversely affected by the attacks on women's health issues and children's health care, though I may suffer a bit if the Republicans are successful in their cuts of aid to the elderly (how strange to think of myself in that category!). But generally I am isolated from the world's woes--and I am both grateful and puzzled, as though I must do something to help others. I think the piddling amounts I give to charity are drops int he bucket, and I carry a sense of guilt.
Meantime, with all the unhappiness in the world, my life went merrily along today. Chrisitian and I took Jacob to the church Easter egg hunt, which turned out to be a non-event. We expeced a carnival-like atmosphere, but instead we sat on our blanket, isolated, eating our sandwiches. The people I know are too old to be there, and Jordan and Christian haven't joined a Sunday school group so there was no one Christian or Jacob knew. And no one came to speak to us, though I noticed a Hispanic family, who wandered tentatively in and did talk to us for a moment, was warmly welcomed. Ah, diversity! The egg-hunt, when it happened, was another non-event. Jacob decided he was too shy to hunt eggs. We went home.
Tonight Weldon and Elizabeth came for a b'dy dinner for Elizabeth--tomorrow's the day. We had great fun talking on the porch, grilling chicken, and visiting. I grilled chicken thighs, marinated in a bit of lime juice and salt, and served with a tomatillo salsa--really good. Accompanied by a pinto bean ragout and a gluten- and dairy-free coleslaw. Elizabeth brought gluten-free cupcakes for dessert, though I declined. We really had a good visit and a good time, though Jacob was in a bit of a "Look at me!" show off mood. We ignored him as much as possible.
So here I am in my smug, comfortable, happy world, while the larger world seems a shambles around me. I know no one person can solve it--if Barack Obama can't, I certainly can't--but it remains a quandry for me. Perhaps Palm Sunday services will help me tomorrow.