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.
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