It’s a long, long while from May to December. By the time Septemper-October rolls around, the days are growing shorter, and suddenly there’s no time to get everything done in 24 hours. Besides sleeping, that is — and even that isn’t easy, what with the world in a trumped-up state.
Waking each morning to yet another debacle brought about by that orange virus has required me to make changes that I don’t find particularly easy. Unsubscribing from online news blogs, for example, which is a shock to me, in the sense that I want to know what’s happening on the planet. I want to know how the rest of the sane world is going to stop our menace; I want to know about art and music and protests and wellness and how to make green pea guacamole, but…
I want to know how the rest of the sane world is going to stop our menace; I want to know about art and music and protests and wellness and how to make green pea guacamole, but…
One has to have blinders on to avoid the giant headlines or the blurbs under featured articles, and then scroll down to what is really of interest, the wonderful reports of doggies or kitties getting lost and finding their way back home after a two-year walkabout, or how women’s film-making is taking over the male dominated Hollywood scene. Important things like those!
But, alas, I have fast eyes. I am simply unable to blot out the horrendous crimes against humanity in Gaza perpetrated by yet another madman, the escalating tensions in the Middle East, or the shortage of medical supplies in Africa (supplies provided by a country I, along with much of the world, used to view as the only lifeline to so many in need).
Fast eyes are great if you’re a kid in Texas and hear rattles in the brush next to you. Fast eyes are very convenient when you wish to shorten your shopping time to a productive half hour or when you are doing research for an article for which the deadline was yesterday.
And fast eyes were great during covid. You could catch who was coughing and sneezing without a mask on.
Little things like that.
Cancel used to mean stopping a publication or a date or an appointment, but I, being no fan of the new vocabulary of ghosting and gifting and too many more noun-to-gerund words, am cancelling the whole Republican, MAGA, self-serving government of fools and the ubiquitous “news” of their latest antics each morning.
But fast eyes of a morning are beginning to take their toll. Is breaking out in hives actually a reaction to armed ICE thugs ripping children and adults away from their families? Is a desperate need to just sit in my lovely end of summer garden, smelling the fragrant basil and rosemary and lavender a protest against a society that has become far too intent on isolation, the pursuit of wealth, and the adulation of incompetent and corrupt politicians?
I used to think my fast eyes would see only goodness, acts of kindness, and that my morning would begin only with those positive printed words that would make me smile.
Cancel used to mean stopping a publication or a date or an appointment, but I, being no fan of the new vocabulary of ghosting and gifting and too many more noun-to-gerund words, am cancelling the whole Republican, MAGA, self-serving government of fools and the ubiquitous “news” of their latest antics each morning.
I’m sticking with my sometimes wicked but always delightful animal bloggers, with whom I can wake up and giggle over my coffee by learning, for the first time in my longish life, that pigs can have 30-minute-long orgasms.
Sometimes up to an hour.
Now there is morning news to explore…
