Brown pelican in flight, from a Galveston trip in early March. I’m particularly proud of this photo, given I had no tripod and was following the bird by hand. The rest of the shots in this series? Not so much.
Welp, things are again changing dramatically over here.
Jon and I are moving out of Houston, back to the East Coast, back to snowier climes. Which we’re thrilled about.
This has been cause for much celebration by friends and family in the northeast, and not so much from friends and family here in Houston. (It’s nice to be loved.) But once again, Jon and I have to live hundreds of miles away from each other for a month and change, due to his company’s scheduling. He literally stopped his contract work here on a Saturday and started work in the new city on Monday.
So yeah. 45 days apart once again. Which we are NOT thrilled about.
Soooooo, given the frustration and bodily trauma that was “packing to move to Houston,” I am looking at this as an opportunity to really lighten up our load. Books about decluttering, such as Konmari and others, have been a presence in the media the past few years. We read a few but never thought we could do anything like that, because we love-and-joy REALLY hard on lots of things. (As in, YES EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE OF THESE WATER GLASSES GIVE ME SQUEEJOY GO AWAY kind of hard.) Now I’m in a “uhhh fine these can be replaced” kind of mood, because cross-country moves are annoyingly expensive.
And so is packing.
So I guess yay new adventure, boo the leadup? I am looking forward to the end point, though.
I remember reading once that Neil Gaiman had tubs of black clothes in his closet, where each tub corresponded to a specific waist size. Recently I’ve been really varied in my sizes – even between days – and originally I thought I’d have to do something similar just to keep track. But yesterday I put on a favorite dress in a larger size and it was a little tight, and another favorite dress in a smaller size and it was a little loose.
Bodies are weird.
And clothing sizes are apparently utter BS for clothes gendered as “women” (or more obnoxiously, “Ladies”).
So I’m currently trying to figure out how to pack away the stuff that doesn’t fit me right now, without having to try on every single thing I’ve got. I might have to just suffer through it, but I thought I’d post in case anyone out there has a trick they use?
Just did a quick pare-down of my friends list. I’ve been spending waaaay too much time on FB and it’s about time for me to take a rest. Before I do, I’m trying to clean up not only what I see but what others see from me, and make my “friends only” posts mean a little something.
No one’s removal was personal at all. My metrics were:
– Has the person commented on my posts or comments in a positive fashion?
– Have I commented on the person’s in a positive fashion?
– Have I seen a post from the person in my timeline recently?
– …did I particularly like any of the posts if so?
– …do I feel liked I missed out if not?
– *Would* I miss the person’s presence on FB, or do they crosspost/mostlypost from Instagram or Twitter enough we could interact there?
– …or do I enjoy their content a lot more on one of those? (That was the case for two folks.)
When I made the qualifications based on “do I enjoy it?” things changed quite a bit. I kept a few people who challenge me – this isn’t a blue-bubble situation – but are not snarky about any disagreement they might have with my content.
So hopefully I can have an easier time on the Blue Beast for the next few weeks before my break goes active. Fingers crossed!
The first iris of the season, from yesterday. Purple and yellow blooms are scattered all over, and the maples are getting their whirligigs. Very pretty.
And too early. Still not used to this at all. 😂
We are at the end of Black History month here in the USA. Last February I did a specific task and posted about the missions of the charities I supported each week, but given that the audience for my blog is so small, I wasn’t really helping anyone by mentioning them. So this year I kept quiet about what I was doing, and I tried to boost things like black voices about topics important to their communities, Black Panther, Ruby Bridges’ birthday, Black cowboys here in Houston, etc. I also passed along a resource I am going to post here as well, because it’s comprehensive and such an amazing aggregation of educational text:
I’m leaving this here so not only can I come back to it again and again, but I can repost it every year, and remember to share it repeatedly.
Enough from me. More tomorrow, as March starts to track its muddy feet on the carpet.
It’s been a fucker of a week. Lots to say over here. But I’m going to start with the respawn of the gun control/gun sense debate in the wake of the horrific shooting in Parkdale, Florida.
I’ve been really annoyed by people who regurgitate old, already-debunked talking points like “What about Chicago” (not the gun murder capital of the US, people) and “It’s not about guns it’s about mental illness” (no, it’s really not) and then say the 2nd Amendment must be protected.
The 2nd Amendment is already not being followed because we don’t have any well-regulated militias. That’s what the damn amendment STARTS with. It’s supposed to be part of the whole dynamic.
Because of that, when talking to 2A proponents I’m gonna REALLY put the 2nd amendment in their faces. So – you want a gun? I propose you join a militia. I propose militias be legal entities registered with the Department of Defense, which would be put into play during disasters in their local areas, helping clean and protect people who have lost walls and locks and whatnot. Anyone can start a militia… and this means even a new Black Panther party. (The number of concealed carry license applications are up for Black women in Chicago, so I can totally see women starting their own militia.) Gun purchase would require proof of current well-regulated militia membership in good standing. Any gun carry requires valid and current militia membership card, and any citizen who sees a civilian carry is entitled to demand they show their card. Militias would be responsible financially for ANY collateral damage one of their members inflicts or suffers…. including paying for toddlers’ funerals. If someone goes off the rails, the militia is fined for not regulating their membership and no one can buy, use, or carry a gun for the next however long. Militias are not allowed to lobby, and no one is allowed to bring a gun to a political protest where emotions will run high.
Let’s tell the 2A proponents we’re making this as obvious as asking someone for their keys when they’re too drunk to drive – asking someone for the keys to their gun safe when they’re angry or frightened, and assure them they’ll have protection from the rest of the militia.
And since that’s all in alignment with the 2nd amendment? the NRA should be on board, right?
I’m shaken. Tearing up. I thought she had more time.
Thank you, wonderful soul, for Arha/Tenar:
“A dark hand had let go its lifelong hold upon her heart. But she did not feel joy, as she had in the mountains. She put her head down in her arms and cried, and her cheeks were salt and wet. She cried for the waste of her years in bondage to a useless evil. She wept in pain, because she was free.”
Thank you, wonderful soul, for Therru/Tehanu:
“I think,” Tehanu said in her soft, strange voice, “that I when I die, I can breathe back the breath that made me live. I can give back to the world all that I didn’t do. All that I might have been and couldn’t be. All the choices I didn’t make. All the things I lost and spent and wasted. I can give them back to the world. To the lives that haven’t been lived yet. That will be my gift back to the world that gave me the life I did live, the love I lived, the breath I breathed.”
I will miss the books you never wrote.