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Posts Tagged ‘TX’

For the first time ever last week, Facebook sent me a warning. Granted, I wasn’t suspended, only put in detention with a “restriction.” Why?

Because I posted a WAPO article about police stopping cars in a TX county if they think women are going to cross borders to obtain an abortion. You read that right. Passing an ordinance legislators call “abortion trafficking” is the latest ploy of religious zealots designed to frighten women into submission. Here’s what I said with the link:

“If this sounds like a dystopian novel, it’s not. It’s real. Pro or anti-choice this is not what democracy looks like.” https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2023/09/01/texas-abortion-highways/

And Facebook didn’t like it: “Some of your content in the last year didn’t follow our Community Standards.”

Maybe I should feel honored? I wonder exactly what word triggered their algorithm – dystopian? Because watching TN legislators pass laws about decorum in front of Covenant families asking for a modicum of gun safety legislation, while celebrating the Love Bug’s birthday with a gaggle of tweens at a Barbie movie felt pretty Orwellian!

Republicans aside, Bob is in the middle of tearing up our house. Staining a fence wasn’t enough in his ongoing quest to upgrade this old cottage core house. We had wanted to save the original pine floors in my snug and the main living/dining area, only to find out later they weren’t really salvageable. We all know if someone were to drop dead on the street in front of him, Bob could save a life. He can also sew up a laceration like a plastic surgeon. What I pleaded with him NOT to do was lay the new engineered hardwood himself.

But thanks to the wonders of YouTube, my husband has turned into a floor guy; along with the fence guy and fine woodworking guy, and the all around Mr Fixit guy. On the one hand, he’s happy learning to do something new. On the other hand, my house is almost always a construction zone. In the past, like 30 years ago, he laid tile in our kitchen. But that was fun, sort of, and we were young, definitely. Now, he’s busy introducing his grandson, the Pumpkin, to power tools.

I find myself lost in memories of wood burning stoves and diapers hanging on a clothesline. Milestones included buying our first house and bringing the newborn Bride home. Her first tooth was miraculous. She started walking on our orange shag carpet. My first published essay was about black ice in the Berkshire Eagle. Then the Rocker was born and he lit up our house like a perpetual motion machine. How could I know that sometime in the future I’d be censored by a large, strange social media corporation?

I read last night that the First Lady has Covid. I wish her well and hope that Joe is staying isolated. After all, if his polls are still running even with a twice impeached, ex-president facing a charge of insurrection who is too afraid to even debate his challengers, well then the next milestone may be just as incomprehensible.

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This past Memorial Day weekend we stayed home.

We trimmed back the lilacs, and watched the magnolia start to bloom. Bob painted the front porch. We watered the garden and walked the dogs – Ms Bean and her three cousins next door. We were settling into our new/old house. And best of all, we were on Grandparenting Duty (GD), which is very different from babysitting mind you.

Bob and I are under no obligation to “watch” our grandchildren, in fact we relish spending time with them. Our rising 2nd and 5th graders are curious and helpful. While the Groom started his MICU attending duties, and the Bride worked three days straight, the littles just skipped down the street to our house. Our only mission was to ‘feed and water’ them and have fun; to witness the wild creativity of childhood… again.

On our first neighborhood 4people/4dogs walk, I brought up something I heard the Pumpkin say a few times – “What are we going to do when…..” (insert) “… we get home,” “after lunch,” etc. This question always reminds me of the little animated fawn, Bambi, asking his mama what they were going to do today. Children like to know what’s next, they love ritual, but summer was about to begin. School was out! I started to talk to the Grands about “unstructured time.” The Love Bug was all in, the Pumpkin however, differentiated between things we “have” to do vs things we “want” to do.

I could see my little red headed perpetual motion machine was struggling with the concept of just chillin. But research has shown us that time to explore and create and simply PLAY is essential to a healthy childhood. The Bug said, “It’s kinda like recess!” YES

“It’s like we HAVE to walk the dogs, but we WANT to eat ice cream,” the Pumpkin added.

So I asked him, “What would you like to do today if you could do anything you want?” He stopped walking and looked thoughtfully at his older dog who was preparing to poop.

“I’d like to build something with Pop Bob.”

And so they did – they studied and designed a “Lending Library” for our fence – a place for neighbors to take a book and replace a book. They set up shop in our dilapidated garage surrounded by wood scraps and power tools. I made a note to myself to get a big fan for the garage, temperatures were rising toward 90 degrees. And I tried to stay out of their way, only delivering lemonade once. My heart was melting as I watched them work.

The Bug and I cooked a beautiful barbeque dinner for their parents one night. She cleaned and chopped fruits and vegetables, and we talked about random things like friendship and boys. There was a boy at her end of the year school party who wanted to give her a balloon shaped like a heart. But she didn’t want it, and the balloon flew away. I told her she would break a lot of hearts, and she laughed and said I sound like her Mother.

There are mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, brothers and sisters who will never get to have these conversations with their children in Uvalde, TX. They will never get to build something with them, or cook with them, or laugh with them again. I am sending them my heartfelt sympathy and reserving my anger for our legislators; the mostly Republican men and women who have so much blood on their hands.

If we cannot ban assault weapons, change the legal age to buy a gun to 21, and pass background checks and red flag laws with a Democratic President, House, Senate and nearly 80% of the people, then we are surely doomed. We have become a country willing to sacrifice our children for the almighty gun dollar.

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