The thunder gods bowled and had a party over my house this afternoon. I haven’t heard such sustained thunder in a while. It brought lightning but no hail and a nice, fairly gentle rain. My Canadian daughter, who came for supper, said at her house—less than two miles away—they got heavy rain and winds, and Jordan, who was maybe two miles in a different direction, saw two trees that looked like they were split by lightning. We talked about how funny it is that we lives so close to each other and still get such different storm experiences, and how glad we are to be so close to each other.
It
seems to me that rain often is all around us but skips, as though it deliberately
avoids our property. All week we’ve had promises, only to have them dwindle to
nothing. And all week, I’ve been home, safely in the cottage. So wouldn’t you
know that this morning, when I needed to go out for an appointment, it began to
rain. By the time we headed out—Christian taking me for a Covid vaccine—it had
slowed to a drizzle.
I
have a new hero. Ever since trump’s first impeachment hearing, I have been a
fan of Adam Schiff. The more trump mocked him, the better I liked him. But now,
after Republicans in the House maliciously censured and falsely him, he is my
new hero because of the grace and humor with which he bore what was meant to be
a devastating put-down and turned out to be nothing more than a bad joke. Schiff’s
entire speech is well worth reading, but here are his opening words: “To my Republican colleagues who introduced this
resolution, I thank you,” he said. “You honor me with your enmity. You flatter
me with this falsehood. You, who are the authors of a big lie about the last
election, must condemn the truth-tellers and I stand proudly before you. Your
words tell me that I have been effective in the defense of our democracy, and I
am grateful.” No anger, just the right amount of humor, and a lot of
grace. What a man, or they say in his faith, a true mensch.
Schiff
showed his dedication to truth in another instance this week when he questioned
John Durham before Gym Jordan’s committee to uncover weaponization of the
government, whatever that is. Durham had been appointed by Bill Barr five long years
ago to investigate the “false” allegations that trump accepted Russian help and
conspired with Russians in the 2015 campaign. This despite the Mueller report
which resulted in legal charges, some convictions, and definite indications of
that collusion.
The
Republican-led committee had egg on its face after Schiff and others questioned
Durham, who seemed unable to come up answers more definitive than, “It would
seem so,” and “I would call it ill advised.” He had obviously not read the
Mueller Report, and there was some doubt he was familiar with his own committee’s
report. Gosh, Gym Jordan, tell us who’s next? I’m breathless with anticipation.
It's
not been a good year so far for Republicans who control the House. So far they’ve
had two men come to fisticuffs—Mike Rogers and Matt Gaetz, both Republicans,
during the long, drawn-out voting for speaker. Now two female representatives
have had a catfight on the House floor—no need to guess. It was Marjorie Taylor
Greene and Lauren Boebbert, both wanting credit—wait for it—for the motion to
impeach Biden. Greene even managed to call Boebbert “a little bitch.” In the
background a man, perhaps spineless Kevin, can be heard saying, “Take if off
the floor, ladies.” Such a lack of class in our elected officials really
troubles me.
But
a part of me wants to laugh too. The custom in the House is to refer to a male
member as “the gentleman from ????” and a female member as “the gentle lady
from ????” But the spectacle of McCarthy calling on Greene with, “Does the
gentle lady from Georgia wish to speak?” sends me into giggles. She is neither
gentle nor a lady. Still I mourn for our country.
And
it seems though the House has sent several bills forward, they have all died in
the Senate. So now, they have taken one concrete step: to censure Adam Schiff
on the basis of facts already long ago disproven (shhh! don’t tell them—maybe
they think it’s a secret). And they are building toward another ludicrous piece
of legislature: impeach Joe Biden. What rock do these people live under?
No
wonder with all this idiocy dominating the news, I’m glad to retreat to the
world of fiction. I’m reading and enjoying, Murder at a Scottish Wedding, by
Traci Hall. Lots of wonderful Scottish brogue (dialect, not shoes), some
unexpected characters who don’t follow the guidelines of the cozy formula, and
romance that doesn’t end all tied with a bow. I like the unexpected!
Take
care out there—wicked storms are afoot tonight, and hot weather will be in many
locations at least trough the first of the week. Sweet dreams!
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