Flotsem and Jetsem

Woke up to a gray, drizzly morning, and nothing changed all day, except that occasionally it rained a bit harder. Suddenly, as I write, it came down hard but not for long. We have been surrounded, though, by areas of damaging storms, so I guess I must be thanksful. I am appropriately grateful for the moisture but now ready for it to end. It is supposed to last all week however.

I thought a record was being set today—the first day in the year and a half that I’ve been in the cottage that I didn’t see Jordan all day (except when she’s been out of town). She sent Jacob out this morning to raise my blinds (I can’t get to them in my Rollator or with my walker—too much furniture in the way). But tonight, she came out for two seconds to lower the blinds (she is more security conscious than I am) and give me a hug.

I’m having what could be viewed as a bleak week or a productive one, depending on how you look at it. The only thing on my calendar all week is dinner with Betty tomorrow night (pending weather) and happy hour with Sue and Teddy the next night. Long days at home, with no lunch breaks. But Jean came to chat over coffee this morning, so I had some human company, and last night Jordan shared a glass of wine and a long calendar planning session—way up into July. So tonight, as I sat alone in my slightly chilly cottage (I forgot to turn the heat on when the temperature suddenly plummeted) I was content as I ate defrosted leftover hamburger stroganoff and a salad.

I fiddled yesterday away, spent too much time on Facebook because I am so caught up by what the Parkland, Florida surviving teenagers are doing and by the fallout from Mueller’s Friday indictments. Those teenagers are amazing, and of course now they’re getting the slings and arrows of American conservatives and Russian bots. I think they’re tough, though, and they’ll lead us to the future.

But today I wrote, making real progress on my novel-in-progress, with notes on where I’ll take it tomorrow. Plus I have embarked on an organizational process with the cookbook I keep alluding to. I want to get it all in one file, so I can see where I am with it, what I need. A good workday.

This morning, for my own satisfaction, I looked up bot. It’s the larva of the botfly, which somehow seems appropriate to me. But a alternative meaning is a robotic internet program which repeats automated messages. The Russian bots increased dramatically within thirty minutes of the Florida shooting, stirring up the gun controversy in this country. Thanks very much, Russia, but we needed no help in making it an acrimonious, bitter divisive issue.

Two subjects are supposedly verboten on the internet—politics and religions. So here I go. I saw a post this morning by a man who said that at last we have a God-fearing president. I wrote politely and asked him how he knew and got back an almost illiterate answer that ended with “God bless even you.” I wrote and thanked him. But it struck me that’s my big difference with evangelicals: they believe in a judgmental God, separate from us, who is just waiting for us to mis-step so he can punish us. I believe in a loving God who is in each of us and we are each in him.

The political issue that gnaws at me is the puzzle of why 45 hasn’t done anything except crow about his own innocence (still in doubt) in light of Mueller’s indictments. It’s an information war, folks, and we are under attack. I’ve read several articles about the steps that any real president would have immediately taken: imposing the neglected sanctions, ordering stricter protections on voting this fall, etc. And Congress has done nothing about his inaction.

Don’t you feel that you’re living in suspended animation, waiting for the next indictment or whatever to drop? I wake up each morning thinking something stupendous will happen that day. One day, I’ll be right.

With that thought in your mind, sleep tight.