Ruble

Thanks to Jim Dabakas, I am now a Paid Protester. He handed these out as we entered the auditorium. At the Women's rally last month, he wore a pink pussy hat. He's a gem.



Our so called rep had a town hall. He's a weasel. But we tried.

We will persist and push.

It's worked before.

Metal

But, don't think this was only organic disease. We were attacked.

Jill Stein was part of the frame.

This disease was more a matter of shrapnel metallosis. Inflicted, thought healed, hidden damage, late appearing sequele. Some of it inherited from the lingering effects of slave culture. Much of it the entrenched patriarchy. We hate those we oppress. We fear those we have treated unjustly, knowing we will be hit by the recoil even as we deny it.

So, we fight on. With thorough compassion.


I rooted a couple of shallots, planted them this morning. More fennel seeds sown. Pulled a few weeds.

The poppies are flourishing. Well, everything seems to be. Two full days of rain this week, and the ground is deeply damp.

Underlying

Perhaps it's my training. Whether it's breathing, bleeding, acidosis, pain, treating the symptoms may help short term, but getting to the reason, the source of the problem, has to be the focus. Until that underlying cause is identified and treated, any surface treatment will be either temporary, or even harmful.

Which is where I am on the current national crisis. International.

The public uprising, pushing, is the essential fluid support, supplemental oxygen, direct pressure that keeps us alive. But the real problem, the corruption and conspiracy, must be addressed and expunged, definitively treated, before we can deal with the myriad of other issues. If the patient dies, it won't matter if the splint on their leg is put on properly.

Yes, there is a story there. Big trauma, general surgeons working on abdominal damage. I was sent in to assist the orthopedic surgeon with splinting the bad leg fracture. I wasn't holding it to his satisfaction. He snaps at me that if it isn't perfect, the patient "MAY NEVER WALK AGAIN!"

I look up at Dr. P, who I knew very well, and read in his face that this patient would not make it out of the hospital alive. Dr. P looked at me, he'd heard the rebuke, and I could tell what he thought of it. He was right. Patient made it to ICU technically alive, but no further.

The resistance does matter, essential. But unless there is legal, high level resolution to solve the underlying issues, this will be fatal. We are the conscience, we are giving it time and reason to heal. But the surgeon must stitch up the ruptured vessel, remove the infected foreign body, dialysis must clear the toxins. If we survive this, there will be a period of recuperation and pain. All we want is for this all to be over, but it won't be like that. Old hurts have been exposed and strained, wounds opened, tumors discovered. It's been festering a long time. Whatever happens, it had to be addressed and fixed.

Chain

Through all the turmoil, for the most part, I've not been able to soothe myself with music. But this week, Vai has put on Motown. And for reasons that become clear on reflection, this has begun to help.

Desperation, suppressed emotions erupting into song. Aware of the wrongness, injustice, and still the striving. The dense harmony, powerful voices, driving rhythm express what the words can't.

Chain of Fools

For five long years
I thought you were my man
But I found out
I'm just a link in your chain

You got me where you want me
I ain't nothin' but your fool
Ya treated me mean
Oh you treated me cruel

Chain, chain, chain
Chain of fools

Every chain, has got a weak link
I might be weak yeah
But I'll give you strength
Oh, hey

You told me to leave you alone
My father said, "Come on home"
My doctor said, "Take it easy"
Oh but your lovin' is much too strong
I'm added to your

Chain, chain, chain
Chain of fools

One of these mornings
The chain is gonna break
But up until the day
I'm gonna take all I can take, oh hey

London

Teaching a new, old RN, who I knew from way back. Challenging, too much talking, much careful phrasing. Tired.

Keeping up on most recent news, via the twitterverse. Reassuring phrases like "grand jury" and "indictment" help. I have a wristband at the Women's Day action, and got dogtags. I find them both very reassuring in these dark days.

I wore dogtags as part of my uniform for six years. Well, eight, even though inactive, I still wore them. Now, well, finding that I want them again. If something happens to me, I'll be identifiable. I know this is not entirely rational, and rather out of proportion to current threats, but I'm a child of abuse. Hypervigilence is a permanent side effect. And women are under attack.

I've always found jewelry comforting. A ring I wore as a child, necklaces, earrings later, watches. All meaningful, and oddly reassuring. I touch them, and feel more ... real.



Cats hanging close.



Lights.



London Pride.

Hangin'

Keep me Hangin' On. Heard on the way home, felt so appropriate. Need a video with Lady Liberty singing this.

Set me free why don't cha babe
Get out my life why don't cha babe
'Cause you don't really love me
You just keep me hangin' on

Set me free why don't cha babe
Get out my life why don't cha babe
'Cause you don't really need me
But you keep me hangin' on

Why do you keep a comin' around playing with my heart?
Why don't cha get out of my life and let me make a brand new start?
Let me get over you the way you gotten over me, yeah, yeah
Set me free why don't cha babe...


You say although we broke up you still just wanna be friends
But how can we still be friends when seeing you only breaks my heart again


You say you still care for me but your heart and soul needs to be free
And now that you've got your freedom you wanna still hold on to me
You don't want me for yourself so let me find somebody else


Why don't cha be a man about it and set me free
Now you don't care a thing about me
You're just using me, hey, abusing me
Get out, get out of my life
And let me sleep at night
'Cause you don't really love me
You just keep me hangin' on


Songwriters: Edward Jr. Holland / Lamont Dozier / Brian Holland

Defiant

There seems to be something brewing, might break through tomorrow. This is what is keeping me from shattering. That, and getting sleep and enough time off during the time change. A solid week of nothing to do I didn't want to do. Which involved fixing the tub drain, pulling weeds, not cleaning the house much, turning compost, removing windows, cleaning the car.

Projects are much more distracting and reassuring than daily chores.

We are making new friends, the Game group came by on Friday. Dylan's work friend and his wife who I like very much, came by last night. Not easy to find friends these days, but we are finally making it happen. I think maybe it never was, unless in small communities. My parents didn't have any, only family and nodding neighborhood/church acquaintances.

The house makes all the difference. House likes company. House loves us, and wants us to be happy.

And this, to explain why I'm taking all of this so personally.

As a child, I was experiencing a world where there was no emotional safety while being consistently told that I had a beautiful and happy childhood and that I was ungrateful.

Defy.

I knew what I knew. It couldn’t be erased. Being defiant does not make you difficult. It makes you resilient.

We know, we see, we defy.

Drain

The bathtub drain assembly has needed changing for quite a while. We had to have a day off, during the week, to get the necessary tools and parts, remove the old one, take it in to get the right replacement, install it. This took some doing. We started Monday. Finished it today.

Both of us have sore upper arms and necks and back pain, sore knees. It took more tools, hammering and twisting than we'd hoped. Not to mention more youtube videos for instructions. I'd given up, and we called a plumber - who was going to come this afternoon. Dylan decided to keep trying, and eventually he got the old one out. I was impressed. We went back to the plumbing supply store, got the new drain, put it in, left it overnight. I cleaned the tub thoroughly this morning. As far as we can tell, it's working. We'll check for leaks in the basement later.



Planning to walk around the park in a little bit.

Raw

I've gone on before about the word RUDE.
Sort of a trigger word.

Been called it twice in the last two weeks. Seen others accused of it multiple times on the twitterstuff.

Quite a tell, really.

I've never used it un-prompted. In response. Always says more about the accuser than the target.

Relaxing into the the time change, by ignoring it. Planning to take this week off next year. Assuming there is one. A week to adjust to an hour's difference is quite a blessing. Changing clocks gradually.


I barely dare hope. Self destructive tendencies triggered, suppressed. World politics intruding on my gardening. Still, weeding. Fennel planted, hyacinths about to bloom, crocuses and some irises already there.

Vacation so far. Turning compost, dismantling windows, changing tub drain (mostly Dylan, two days, ultimately successful) cleaning kitchen, weeding.

Still have five days to go. Not entirely sure what to do with myself.

Read Jasper Fford's The Last Dragonslayer, and want to read more.

Cats happy to have us about. Moby going out, Eleanor hanging around closely.

Breakers

Pete reminded me of this. Third apartment in Boston ceiling/window.

Feeling much better today, knowing I have the week off. Feeling the rest sloshing back through time into my heart.

We attended a People Power meeting for the ACLU yesterday at the library. Good information, very well attended, reassuring and challenging together. Ever played in the big ocean waves as they broke on the beach? That sense of being lifted up, buoyant and helpless, exhilarating and awesome, knowing the next wave might crash over as you sputter, or roll powerfully beneath? The undertow might catch you, or the wave might drive you closer to shore. I am lifted off my feet, keeping my wits about me, staying afloat.

Took down the windows in the back porch, figured any weather damage is irrelevant since that is all coming off anyway. Satisfying. I can clean off the windows at my leisure. The contractor is still getting ducks in rows with sub-contractors and city permits. I needed to hammer stuff today.



Yeah, I broke through one of the boards.

When your dog looks like Patrick Stewart. Found this, had to share.

Peace

Nothing like a sunbeam to pacify cats.

The poppies are greening up, hopefully planning to bloom madly. Along with the lambs tongue.







Crocuses and irises.



Moby contemplating shallots rooting.



And I stay defiant.

Wrist

Went to the Day Without A Woman rally at my state capitol today. Odd, but I think, useful.

Didn't exactly strike, since I was off the schedule anyway. So I stayed to do my bit. Push my section a little more. Got a bracelet.

ERA needs to be passed. First, we need to get rid of the shitclog, of course.

I should have taken my camera. Will next time.

Resist.

Crocus

Ridiculous bloom,
Purple tenderness yellow
Still believes in spring.

The first of the crocuses are starting to flower. The ground is soft and damp. I've stacked my rocks and stones again, some have already fallen, and I've piled them again. There is fresh catnip, close to the ground but potent, to Eleanor's delight.

Interesting

Hard not to think about bigotry these days. I wish I were immune, but I have my biases. Cultural assumptions hate being ruffled, they are RIGHT, and the other is WRONG! Milk must be put in tea after, NEVER before! (Except that when you are poor, maybe easier to know how much of scant milk is in before tea, rather than slopped in after... oh.)

The phrase "But. Some of my best friends are ..." whatever. That's pretty bad really, although I didn't know it for a long time. But I've never been good at friends. Can't say I've ever really had a best friend, although I've had some good ones, occasionally. I can say, none of my best friends have ever been WASP rich or middle class. Women or men. Iroquois, black, Mexican, Asian, Jewish, Israeli, lesbian, yes. Never mainstream, "White." Half that, yeah, or poor or odd in some other way, sure. But, well, not. Not intentionally, just sort of worked out that way.

I've never felt any sense of belonging in any group, aside from Army or OR nurse. And both of those are about choice, not inheritance. No religion, no 'family' has ever meant anything to me. My work, yes. Dylan and the cats, absolutely. My tribe is who I have come to welcome in my home. And love in my strange little neighborhood. I am a citizen of the world. I wish that for everyone. It's scary and lovely and interesting.

I'm a little surprized how much I have written about this before. But I've never felt "white" in my life. A girl, poor, Irish, French Canadian, odd duck, never one of Them.

Preamble

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of ...


It's all cracking, although they are so stuck in the tar baby refuse to admit anything. We keep pushing. Because after it falls, there will be a lot of mopping up and repairing.

Still planning on the 8 March A Day Without Women Strike. Although I already have the day off, so it's a bit moot for me.



This is March. Keeping the boots and the crocs right by the door.

Waiting on my roses, not yet sent out. Planning on Mexican Midget tomatoes. And prickly pear cactus. Fennel and shallots.

Ashes

In a thousand years...

Remember then, that thou art dust. And unto dust thou shalt return.

Self made ritual, no priests or churches involved.



Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Minimal

Turned the compost.

Cleaned the living room.