Odd inconveniences, a good dinner, and Omigosh! What are Republicans doing to poor Ukraine

 

This morning I woke to a gray, dull day that seemed to threaten rain at any moment. Stretching and lying in bed enjoying the moment, I thought a day of reading and napping sounded just perfect. Of course, that’s not what happened. Jordan and I were out the door at 9:15 for a doctor’s appointment for me. All is well, and I got a good report, including praise for doing all the things I should—vaccinations, mammograms, etc. But I will have to take a swallow test because I’ve been having difficulty swallowing large pills lately, pills that I’ve taken for years with no problem. My doctor explained I would drink barium and they would x-ray it going down—yuck! It’s been over thirty years since I had to drink barium and I still have not-so-pleasant memories. What struck this osteopathic child was that my doctor did not palpate my throat (he said if it were thyroid there’d be a big and visible mass) and he didn’t look down my throat. He knew, without touching me, what the problem was—almost certainly not serious—and how to deal with it. But I grew up in the old days when a doctor laid hands on. I guess, like many things, I have to learn to adapt. He did come in physical contact to listen to hear and lungs and examine the healing lesion on my scalp.

When we left the doctor’s office, the sun was peeking out, and the day ultimately turned out to be pretty. I meant to get someone to take pictures of my wildflowers but didn’t get it done. But we came home to no water—it’s not as though the whole block was cut off. It was just our house. Christian called the water department, and they said it was probably a problem with our meter. They would have someone out to fix it today. Fortunately, I had leftovers in the fridge for lunch, but it was a bit frustrating to leave the unrinsed decision in the sink. To say nothing of not flushing the toilet. My nap came in handy because when I woke up, the water was back on. I don’t say this often, so here’s a cheer for the Fort Worth Water Department.

Christian fixed chicken piccata tonight following a Southern Living recipe and I made cheese grits from the same source, plus we had the cucumber salad I made earlier in the week. A really good dinner, if a bit lemony. After all these years, Southern Living is still my go-to.

Tonight I shared Dan Rather’s daily column on my Facebook page. I hope you’ll take time to read it. Rather, whom I admire a great deal, points out that by stalling aid to Ukraine Republicans in the House are fulfilling Putin’s every wish. Ukraine, which has already suffered so badly in the name of democracy for all of us, is losing territory (and men) in the eastern part of the country. MAGA Republicans don’t seem to get it through their thick heads that the freedom of Europe is a stake, and if Europe falls America is at best isolated, at the worst without trade partners and vulnerable to miliary takeover. To me, it’s as simple as teaching math to a first grader—two plus two equals Russia steamrolls across Europe. Marjorie Taylor Greene, the dimmest bulb in Congress, says Putin claims he wants no more land, just Ukraine, and she believes him. I have a bridge in Arizona to sell her. As Rather says, men like Mike Johnson are playing politics with people’s lives. Is Johnson stalling because he’s afraid of losing his speakership? I cannot tell. It’s too late to hold his caucus together—that ship sailed long ago. I suspect his motivation lies in his recent trips to Mar-a-Largo, and the idea that trump is pulling political strings to get back in the presidency, as the cost of man’s lives on the battlefield, is so abhorrent I’m speechless. And I can’t even begin to contemplate what would happen to poor Ukraine if trump weaseled his way back into the Whie House.

Please do whatever you can—write your congressman, your senator, anyone who can put pressure on Johnson. I suspect Democrats will swallow hard and support him because they simply don’t want the upheaval of having to choose another speaker, poor choice though he is. Without saying that, maybe reassure him. We’ve got to raise our voices and get the off dead center. It’s unconscionable.

Seems rather silly after that to say, “Sweet Dreams,” but that’s my wish for you. And maybe positive thoughts about the world situation.

Monday all day long

 

This is one of those days when I’m tempted to shrug it off with the explanation, “All work and no play makes Judy a dull girl.” I have nothing outstanding to report from my day—or maybe I do—and the national news did not inspire me to comment. One report I read was full of minute by minute reports of jury selection in the trump trial—well, ho hum! I’m waiting for something blockbuster to break loose, or maybe at least for Stormy Daniels’ testimony. And, mostly I guess, I’m waiting to see what the decision will be. You hear so many things—some pundits say this is the most consequential of trump’s trials, and other say it will be impossibly hard to prove that he had felonious intent. I’m not holding my breath. It seems to me the American public is going to have to consider, when they vote, not these cases and their many delays which may well stretch out beyond our November elections. What they must consider is the no former American president has ever stood trial for a felony nor ever been indicted on 91 counts. Meantime, I am really tired of trump everywhere in the news.

Otherwise, the international news is discouraging. Netanyahu is promising revenge on Iran where, if I’m not mistaken, he started the pissing war that is taking real human lives. I once saw a map that showed Israel’s geographic place in the vast Middle East—it is but a tiny dot. You’d think Netanyahu would realize the precariousness of his position, but I suspect he’s gloating because Israel’s defense network was able to deflect most of the attack, which of course is a good thing in terms of lives saved. That doesn’t mean they will always be able to do so. To me, they are like David and Goliath—only this time I’m not so sure David has righteousness on his side. I weep for the people of Israel and for the people of Gaza. I don’t know much about it, but I like the name of a group that sends me emails: Win without War.

And Mike Johnson has still refused to bring before the House a bill that would aid Ukraine and Gaza. He is so in thrall to trump that he does whatever the former, twice-impeached president wants. And trump apparently wants revenge on Ukraine because Zelensky refused to support his attempt to smear Biden during the 2020 election campaign and also is in thrall to Putin because he admires blind power. What a chain of thralldom they present. And how directly they violate the principles of American democracy. As for Johnson, I am tired of pseudo-sanctimonious Christians. There is no question in my mind that the American people at large understand the importance of supporting Ukraine and, despite our long ties to Israel, the humanitarian need in Gaza.

One of the things I’ve increasingly come to believe is that compassion and empathy are always more effective than punishment. I believe with all my might it holds true for our whole correctional/penal system which needs a massive overhaul. It is true in our treatment of the homeless—countries and local communities which have responded with compassion and provided homes and stipends for the homeless have seen that some large percentage go on to build productive lives. What do we accomplish by criminalizing those who would feed them, kicking them out of their encampments but offering no alternative. It is true for immigrants—in communities where they are welcomed, they become contributing members of society. “We have to stop criminalizing poverty.” When we yank lunch programs from children who are food-starved, we create a rebellious segment of society; feed them, and they become contributing members of our society.

Okay, I’m wandering around tonight in philosophical fields, and I am much more at home with the concrete, with specific facts. So I will say today I went back to Irene in a Ghost Kitchen, wrote a blurb and copy for Amazon. Then, with perfect timing, I got the beta reader’s comments. Lots for me to think about as I dig into yet another trip through the manuscript but basically good comments. He thinks it’s a book that will work. So now I have a project, and that makes me happy. Watch for a cover reveal soon!

Tonight my friend Mary V. came for supper. I had grave doubts what I intended to feed her—the spinach dish I didn’t make for my chef friend last week because I had no spinach. Now I had spinach, saved from my kitchen fail with spinach and scrambled eggs. Not a good start. But I chopped the spinach, added more salt, sauteed in butter and melted cream cheese—which made creamed spinach. I heated heirloom tomato slices, piled the spinach on top of them, and topped with grated cheddar. Ran the whole thing under the broiler—it was delicious. Mary brought grits; I added marinated cheddar, just a few cubes each, and cucumber salad, and called it a hodgepodge dinner. Mary called it a success.

So I have a positive reader’s report, with suggestions I understand and can see will make the book better, and I have served a good dinner. I think I’ll go to sleep with happy dreams tonight. But no dog news. I leave you with this quote from Ann Lamott: Courage is fear that has said its prayers.

Sleep tight, my friends.

All’s right with the world—or is it?

 

Oh glorious day!
Six years ago, finally getting read to leave rehab and go home.

Jordan’s home from Hawaii, the sun was shining all day and the ice melting, and Sophie got a good doctor’s report. All’s right with my world.

But we all know all’s not right with the world in general. My usual habit is to start the morning with the news and emails before I get to my own work. And today I barely got to my own work, mostly because so much is out of kilter in the world. I think I am fixated on being aware of what’s going on, particularly with our government in my state, Texas, and in Washing, D.C., because I came late to political awareness. And it was even later that I realized my voice might accomplish something, even that I had not just a wish to speak out but an obligation because I felt so strongly about some things.

I don’t know if the way I speak out—this blog and Facebook and occasionally Twitter—is effective or not. I’ve read statistics that claim you’re not going to change anyone’s mind on social media, and some days I’m really afraid that’s true. On Facebook, I stumble across people whose minds are held captive by conspiracy theories. They truly believe that Biden is out to destroy the country, and it does no good to ask them why he would want to do that. Here's a man who has devoted a lifetime to American politics, who has risen above personal tragedy to put the good of the country first, who generally by those who know him is considered a genuinely good man. Remember what Lindsay Graham said (before he was held in thrall to trump): “God never created a better man than Joe Biden.” And now, Biden has saved us from the brink of recession, created programs to bolster not just the infrastructure and the economy but the lives of ordinary Americans—and created new job numbers that are so good they confound the experts. But yeah, he’s out to destroy the country.

Today as in many days I was captivated, not happily, by the antics of House Republicans: Jim Jordan claiming that Biden is intentionally flooding the country with dangerous immigrants; MTG defining CRT as a theory that teaches grade school kids that their white skin is not as good as another kid’s black skin; Texas representative Chip Roy announcing that the armed forces should be out with lethality killing people and blowing things up (yeah, that’s for sure what I want our country known for). Don’t even ask about the debt ceiling which they are deliberately conflating with the budget. I wish more Americans would educate themselves about the way our government works.

Mondays and Fridays are also busy days on two writing listservs I follow—on Mondays in one group, we commit to our work plans for the week and on Fridays, in both, we brag about our accomplishments and praise others on what they’ve done. If you read everybody’s posts, as I feel I should, it takes a lot of time. But if I want people to comment on what I post, I must return the courtesy.

As you can see, it was a busy day, and I barely got to Irene and her Texas adventure. But yesterday I sent the manuscript off to the mystery editor I use and to the man who has been my mentor (he hates the term) for fifty years. I am still left with putting together front matter, a recipe section, and a blurb. Didn’t get to it today, because in addition to keeping up with our out-of-kilter world, I cooked a big dinner to welcome Jordan home—an herb-stuffed sheet pan chicken on a bed of onion, potato and carrot, with a lettuce wedge dressed in a blue cheese sauce.

And that brings me to recipes, which also take up a bunch of my time. I subscribe to the New York Times cooking column and America’s Test Kitchen and perhaps my favorite, the online “Kitchn.” Sometimes I find recipes that really speak to me; other days, not so much. Today what I found included a recipe for creamed kale pizza—uh, no thank you. And in the Times, a recipe for white soondubu jjigae, which is described as a tofu stew.

I’m out of here on that note. Need chocolate and wine.

 

Some fuddy-duddy thoughts on decorum

 

Lots of articles on the web these days “explain” what has happened to the Republican Party and to the House of Representatives. Pundits trace the change in the Grand Old Party to Ronald Reagan with a heavy dose of Newt Gingrich’s “Contract with America.”  They give Reagan and his political heirs credit or the blame for policies which favored the rich and powerful and disenfranchised the poor, nearly obliterating the middle class. Trickle-down economics, which they fondly quoted and still try to implement today, obviously did not work.

But what I’ve not seen much written about is the disturbing lack of decorum in recent House proceedings. When Lauren Boebert disagreed with something someone said, she loudly shouted out, “Bullshit!” An inappropriate term, especially in a setting where speakers generally follow the formality of asking the Speaker or Chair to recognize them. In the last day or two, members engaged in shouting matches and at one point a member had to be physically restrained from attacking a colleague. We could not have looked more like a third-world country.

For some time, a line I vaguely remembered has been floating through my mind, something to the effect that in a democracy, the lowest common denominator will eventually rise to the top. I thought it was attributed to one of the Founding Fathers, probably Thomas Jefferson. But it turns out it goes back much further—it was Plato who said it. He called it “rule of the rabble.” A wonderful phrase. It means rule by a mob or masses with intimidation of legal authorities. Sound like the Freedom Caucus or whatever they call themselves?

While we’re on the subject of language, some on the internet have referred to McCarthy’s humiliating 15 attempts to win the speakership as a Pyrrhic victory, one won at too great a cost to the victor to be really counted as a win. Truthfully, I hope and pray that Kevin McCarthy comes to that recognition. His is and will be a hollow victory.

More language: someone suggested that McCarthy become an adjective for a hollow victory: “His was a McCarthy win.” Elsewhere, someone thought Kevin should become a verb for repeated attempts at the same thing with the expectation that the outcome will be different the next time. As in “I kept turning on the ignition, but the motor kept kevining and kevining.” Kevin McCarthy is now the butt of so many jokes, I have no idea how he thinks he can gain enough respect to rule.

There, that’s off my mind! Other than disgust with McCarthy and the whole disgraceful, embarrassing sequence of events, today was a lovey day. I slept hard last night, the first night in weeks. Sophie wasn’t here to wake me, but nether was she on my mind, worrying about her. I have reached a certain level of comfort with the care she is receiving.

This morning we went to visit her, and she had a bit of a spring to her step, wandered around rather than lying apathetically on the floor. Her lab work is not perfect but looking better. Poor baby has great shaved patches for medication purposes, and her tail is wrapped to keep it clean (it looks like a purple rat tail), so she’s a bit pitiful looking. To me, her eyes said she was still not her old, happy self. But she is so much better. Jordan took her on a walk around the parking lot, and she moved right along, didn’t seem to tire. No idea yet when she can come home. She is one of two patients over the weekend, so she’s getting plenty of attention.

Otherwise, my day was emails, exploring the news, reading a bit, and taking a great long nap. Everything one should do on a lazy day. And tonight, I had a delightful dinner with Sue and Teddy—Sue (my Canadian daughter) fixed a chicken roulade with a pasta side dish, one of her neighbors brought a wonderful salad and another a pound cake. I was so pleased to be a last-minute addition to the party. Sue said she waited for a report on Soph before including me. Teddy chauffeured me and treated me like a fragile princess going in and out of the car, up and down steps, etc,--I could get used to that! Interesting conversation, good food, good company—a nice evening, and I was glad to be out and among people.

On the way home tonight, Teddy asked what I plan to do tomorrow, and I said, “not a darn thing except watching church.” But Monday I plan to get back to work—oh, oops, a doctor’s appointment in the middle of the morning will interrupt my work.It seems there’s always something to get in the way of my good intentions.