A 10, Maybe

Daily writing prompt
Describe your most ideal day from beginning to end.

Should have taken a peek at this one yesterday, so I could mull it over for a bit.

Let’s see… on a day predicted to be sunny and in the 70s, with family visiting, arise at 5am, pour myself some cold brew, write for a couple of hours, get dressed, go out for breakfast somewhere, then just take a leisurely drive to places we’ve never been, take some pictures, maybe poke around in some local shops where my wife could get ideas for her next sewing and embroidery project. Then we’d find a nice spot for lunch, linger there, and take our time driving home, where we’d have an invite for supper at our son and daughter-in-law’s place and we can visit with the six of them and their loveable pooch. Then we’d finish the day, if it was a Tuesday, with a snack–maybe some popcorn or something– and a new episode of Finding Your Roots, or maybe a movie we’d been wanting to watch. Then, before retiring, we’d step outside and take in a rare planetary alignment and a highly visible comet.

An alternate ideal day, from a more personal perspective, would start the same way– with cold brew and writing and breakfast out– but would include time at our son’s outbuilding, working with him on some woodworking venture, or maybe, if the weather was good, playing 18 at our favorite local golf course, lingering at the 19th hole for lunch and a cold beer, then heading home to mow the lawn and work on the yard for a while, finishing with some sort of meal on the grill and a leisurely evening sitting in the back yard, maybe reading for a bit, just letting the day wind down, and topped off with an ISS sighting– traveling 275 miles overhead at seventeen-five mph.

OK. With apologies for the length of this… a third scenario, and maybe the closest to being the most honest and realistic: getting up early, pouring myself some cold brew, writing in my journal and in here, and having the rest of the day be a blank slate, where I call the shots, totally unencumbered by anyone’s expectations, and my choices for how the day unfolds are left totally to me. That sounds ideal.

So, a day that involves some autonomy, solitude, food, drink, visiting, satisfying activity and maybe a change of scenery.

A Rock and a Hard Place

Saturation. Keep the craziness coming so we don’t know what to focus on, which way to turn.

One question that emerges regards the role of Democrats, and any Republicans with a conscience: where are they and what are they doing? Are they hatching a plan of resistance, or are they dumbfounded and paralyzed and impotent?

They can’t stop Elon Musk? He’s not even an elected official! He’s just rich and apparently wields a lot of power.

What the hell is going on? Who’da thunk it would be this easy to tear things down? Maybe the hard lesson to learn is that it’s no longer enough to play by the rules. Trump has never played by the rules, and look what that’s gotten him.

Maybe it’s time to take the gloves off, restore some order. Or is it too late already?

Why?

Daily writing prompt
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?

Sometimes it’s a reminder that our time on earth is fleeting, and it passes relatively quickly– that there’s no time like the present. In other moments, something happens that prompts a word of thanks or a feeling of gratitude. And still other times, things happen that induce rage and make one wonder how the human race has survived for this long, makes me think that we can do and be better.

One’s life experiences inform one’s perspective. On the balance, life can be blessing and curse, mysterious and mundane, joyous opportunity and endless slog. A journey of discovery and exhiliration, of love and warmth, or bleak coldness and senseless suffering.

One is blessed if they are curious and teachable, given the space to experience and react and assess, then to change when necessary and move on, armed with more knowledge and filled with better questions. This earthly life generates more questions than answers, which keeps things interesting and pushes us toward some sort of… enlightenment?

Pollyanna

It all seems to be going to hell so quickly. I guess when there’s a Project 2025—when there’s a plan—things get done in short order. But how does this end? Where are we headed?

What happens to America when bridges are burned and its leadership wants only to turn inwards and feed itself? The citizenry counts for little in this scenario, gets lost in the shuffle.

What’s being preserved? What happens after everything is torn apart, torn down? Is anything built up, replaced, somehow made more “efficient,” and better?

Who is being served by this evisceration?

We all need to be citizens of the world. We can’t withdraw and look out only for our own. This is how the ruse continues. This is how progress gets stymied—when we convince ourselves that it’s always been and always will be a dog-eat-dog world.

It doesn’t have to be this way. We have the capacity to flip the script. We simply choose not to.

Itemized

Daily writing prompt
Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.

We often talk about replacing the somewhat unsightly shed in the back yard– maybe a bigger one that would hold the usual shed stuff and maybe even a lathe… I won’t push the lathe. Cost has been stopping us, but also the prospect of running up against local zoning rules that would push a new build further out into a relatively small yard. I’m sure we’ll continue revisiting this.

My personal list that garners occasional lip service: practice piano, dust off the guitar, get back to learning Spanish, find part-time work, build shelving in the basement, remove a hornet nest before it gets warm and they’re back building it again, find places to volunteer, work on a generally rosier outlook.

Commandeered

I resent the fact that there’s so much material to work with now that Trump is back in office. I prefer to focus on other things but often find myself trying to make sense of the latest headline news regarding something he said, or another insane policy decision, or Executive Order he signed.

I guess something to remember about Trump is that he’s merely the front man. He’s the visible, in-your-face reminder that there’s something bigger and even uglier going on around him. The people at the Heritage Foundation, people like Stephen Miller and other bottom feeders, are the real movers and shakers in this race to ignominy and ruin. They’re trying to command a whole nation to shit itself, to give up, to turn its back on the rule of law because that’s too hard and inconvenient.

And they found a malleable, delusional empty soul with a permanent chip on his shoulder to do their dirty work.

If I seem preoccupied and moody and cynical, it’s mainly because this assault on the America that could be truly beautiful is heartbreaking, rage-inducing, and taking its toll.

It’s becoming tragically clear that humans can’t have nice things. We’re just animals with a somewhat evolved brain.

Tasty

Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite thing to cook?

Simple things, mostly– sausage gravy, or a really healthy oatmeal recipe with banana, blueberries, cinnamon, an apple, etc.

In terms of a more involved prep, I’d have to say Chicken Wild Rice Soup, a recipe we found in the 2001 edition of a Taste of Home holiday cook book. I’ve made it so many times that I stopped referring to the recipe years ago. And I seldom use actual wild rice by itself–too expensive. I cheat a bit with two boxes of Uncle Ben’s Original Wild Rice mix, using only about half of one of the included seasoning packets.

I occasionally like to spend time preparing meals. It’s enjoyable, in part because I sip a glass of red or white along the way– like Julia Child always did.

Reality Setting In

Will there be a moment when the MAGA crowd comes to its senses and realizes the error of its ways, regrets what it has foisted on the country they supposedly love?

Seems unlikely.

But even the straight, white, gun totin’, flag waving, Jesus loving Base won’t be able to avoid the fallout from this debacle. No one emerges unscathed when you hand the reins to a vindictive, delusional liar who couldn’t care less about the price of eggs.    

And Floppy Disks

Daily writing prompt
Write about your first computer.

A step up from a Commodore 64, I guess, a bit before Apple and Gateway and the rest really exploded onto the scene, or were within reach of our pocketbook.

It was the late ’80s, maybe 1990, and the thing was pieced together with the advice of a friend who had some knowledge of what to us was a whole new wondrous technology. The CPU was housed in a rectangular, low-rise box, kilobytes of storage, a dot matrix printer that used paper with the perforated guideholes on either side, a tiny CRT with amber text. I can’t remember if this one had internet capability. If it did, it was dial up modem. And by today’s standards, it was relatively expensive.

Primitive beginnings, but there was no going back.

Buzzwords

Fiscal sanity, fiscal conservatism, is a smokescreen. “Efficiency” is a smokescreen. Cutting trillions from the budget is likely impossible, but it’s also mere cover for an insidious agenda.

It’s the height of hypocrisy. The ones who push for spending cuts are the ones who have no worries about putting food on the table or securing needed medications or receiving a helping hand when the money is tight. “Handouts” are anathema to these cold-hearted bastards. But that’s only because they can’t relate to anyone else’s life, anyone else’s situation.

All they see, for some reason, are illegal aliens, beggars and leeches and drags on society, instead of desperate human beings. They’d rather spend money on themselves or on an Iron Dome, instead of on a program that makes someone’s day a little less bleak.