My first instinct is to say this was an average day, with not much going on in my little world. But in retrospect that is so wrong. The weather is the lead story, as far as I’m concerned. Have you ever been so cold? I shiver inside my well-heated cottage and worry about the people of Ukraine. It’s a demoralizing gray outside, and though it’s been cold all day and there’s a bit of ice, I understand it is to get worse tonight. It’s not only when they cancel school a day ahead, but when they cancel garbage pickup, you know you’re in trouble.
In
this weather with icy roads, old friends from San Angelo arrived in the
Metroplex, here for a meeting. Preston and Harriet Lewis came by for a visit
this afternoon, and I was almost surprised to see them. I had thought they
would change their minds about traveling, but they are brave. Preston said he
was only worried about other drivers—a good caution in North Texas. I probably
haven’t seen this couple for twenty-five years, but we were once all active in
Western Writers of America (Preston and I are both past presidents). We had a
high old time talking about people we knew back when, although sadly several
are no longer with us. Still, we laughed a lot, and it was a good visit. Our
friendship is also a great example of renewing old ties through Facebook,
because that’s what we did. Preston has written some terrific westerns,
including comic ones. And he told me today he is the world’s expert on cats on
the western frontier. I told him everyone needs a niche.
The
other highlight of my day was that a gentleman named Dean Jones interviewed me
for his podcast, “The Well-Seasoned Librarian.” As a librarian, he is of course
interested in books, but he is particularly interested in the food angle, so we
had lots to talk about. I got all gussied up—clean hair, makeup, a good sweater—because
the link was to Zoom, and I thought it would have video as well as audio. Not
so. I could see him, but I couldn’t tell if he could see me or not. He asked
great questions, and I had a chance to talk about everything from the transition
from Chicago to Texas to retirement and my conviction that one retires from a
job but never from writing. Dean promises a link when it’s up, and I will share
that, should anyone be interested.
Moving
on to voter suppression. It took me three, determined tries to get a mail-in
ballot. Today I was told that my ballot was incomplete, and for it to count I
must go in person to the voter registration office. When I explained that I am
mobility challenged and don’t drive, they best they could offer was curbside
service. (I worked hard to let the nice lady on the other end of the phone know
that I was angry but not at her, and I hoped she had a pleasant day.) The hitch
is a new requirement that you put either your DL number or the last four digits
of your social security number on the outside of the envelope. The voice on the
telephone assured me that when you seal the flap the information is hidden from
public view. The problem is that the requirement is apparently in tiny print
amidst all the print on those envelopes, and those of us who have filed by mail
for years simply didn’t look at it. There has been no public campaign to alert
voters. Wouldn’t you think if government—in this case Texas state government—wanted
to encourage the vote they would mount a campaign about all the changes in
ballot requirements? Instead they’ve snuck them in, in small type, and alerted
no one. I only heard about it, after I mailed the ballot, on Facebook. Can you
spell voter suppression? I have again talked to the independent newspaper that tells
me they are still working on an article. And just for the record, I will register
a complaint with the Texas secretary of state.
In
other state news, Governor Abbott is practicing medicine again without a
license. Wonder where he got his medical education? First he exercised his vast
medical expertise (and apparent moral superiority) with a series of orders to
physicians caring for women that absolute ignored the physical and mental
consequences of exceptional pregnancies. Now he has ordered physicians to
report to the department of child protective services (or whatever its proper
name is) any case where parents are providing transgender healthcare to their children.
It is, he says from on high, child abuse. His edict is awfully close to
invasion of privacy. And he is more than ever a mean little man who seems to
think he is a dictator.
A bright
note on this wintry night: Christian made wonderful tortilla soup, and Jordan made
chocolate chip cookies. When the going gets tough, you can count on Jordan for chocolate
chip cookies. I’m so blessed.
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