Texas’ changeable weather, inflexible politics

You know that old saying—“If you don’t like the weather in Texas, wait a minute.” It’s proving true this week. Yesterday was bitter cold and gray, with sudden gusts of really cold wind. Not worth going out in, except that I went out for lunch and had a hearty Frito pie. But mostly I cowered in my cottage, a sweater over my shoulder, a prayer shawl over my knees—suddenly an old lady.

The trees are budding out. Indeed some are in bloom, and I worry about frost killing the blossoms. When friend Mary came for happy hour tonight, she brought a lovely bouquet of daffodils and hyacinth from her garden--she was afraid they wouldn't survive the frost and so picked them. They're a joy for me, but now she won't get to enjoy them in her garden for a longer stretch of time.

My Canadian daughter blew in for a glass of wine, complaining vociferously about the cold. When I said she of all people should be used to it, she said, “I don’t do that anymore.” When Sophie wanted to go out, I left the door open a crack so she could come back in. Sue closed it tight, saying, “I’m so cold.” Sophie stood outside the door and looked puzzled, but it’s a quirk of her personality that if you open the door and urge her to come in, she looks at you like “Really?” Now if you urge her with a piece of cheese in your hand, it’s an entirely different matter. “She’s spoiled rotten,” Sue declared, as though that was news to either of us.

Today was an improvement of sorts in the weather—deceptive bright sunshine and air that did warm up but is rapidly cooling now that the sun is disappearing. By Saturday the temperature will be in the seventies, though it will drop ten degrees or so the next week. And can you believe that daylight saving is already coming back this weekend? I am one of those who would welcome year-round daylight savings, so I’m happy about that. But I always am fearful I will set the clocks the wrong way, and I keep saying to myself, “Spring forward, Fall back.” Hope I’m right.

My lunch plan for today cancelled, and I stayed home to eat delicious leftovers—a Greek potato and chicken dish with lots of lemon and oregano. One of those dishes that is better the second or third day. Tonight: a big old baked potato. Mary has already come and gone for our Tuesday happy hour, rushing off to the TCU women’s basketball game.

Texas weather may be changeable, but Texas politics are all too predictable. I am discouraged to learn that fifty-seven legislators are backing a draconian bill that would outlaw therapeutic abortion after six weeks—before most women even know they’re pregnant. And of those fifty-seven legislators, fifty-four are men who cannot possibly understand the complexities of pregnancy, the heartbreak of a fetus that will not survive outside the womb. It’s an obvious conclusion to me that decisions about difficult pregnancies need to be between a woman and her doctor, not dictated by a bunch of men in suits.

A thread about this, on my wall, brought an eloquent response from author Clay Reynolds, with a good discussion of the varying beliefs about when life begins. Read it if you can find it.

The cling-to-the-past politics of Texas sadden me. I hope we can elect officials and legislators with a more compassionate and humane approach in 2020. Meantime, stay warm—cold again tonight.