This is Not Charlottesville

My friend Gordon was diagnosed with cancer before we ever met. It was a type of melanoma. It appeared first as a place on his leg. The story I heard over the years was that it was gardening season and Gordon, who always planned his schedule around gardening, couldn’t be bothered to get it treated. Until it grew to a size where he could no longer ignore it.

Gordon’s sister, Charlotte, liked to tell people that I was the woman Gordon met over the Internet.

The first time Charlotte introduced me that way I liked to have fell out. read more

Wigging out with Sister Tater

Apparently teenagers-in-chief Kim Jong Un and Donald Trump haven’t yet blown us all to smithereens. It isn’t for a lack of trying. Thanks a lot for absolutely nothing, Lindsey Graham. Don’t you just love it when folks who couldn’t pass the entrance exam to enlist feel perfectly emboldened to send our sons and daughters off to do their bloody bidding?

Good for the folks in Guam for not paying Trump and his alter-ego Kimmie Jong no never mind. As any mother of toddlers can attest to, fit-throwing is best ignored. The worst thing anyone can do is to affirm temper tantrums. I make it a point to always ignore those who demand attention by way of histrionics. And if there is one thing Trump and Kimmy Jong can’t stand, it’s being considered irrelevant and then ignored. read more

People and their rice paddies

If Kim Jong Un decides to out-bully Trump this may very well prove to be my very last blog post. For all you people wondering what the Bay of Pigs moment was like, this is it. This temper-tantrum meltdown between two completely erratic and insane abusers.

I hold Trump in utter contempt.

You may have noticed.

I’m pretty sure even God is fed up with Trump, despite what Stupid Head Robert Jeffress says about him.

Normally, I’d be so far inland, I wouldn’t worry too much about a pissing match between Trump and his half-brother Kim. But right now I’m out here on the Olympic Peninsula. I’ll be here for the week. Maybe that will give Mattis and Kelly long enough to get Trump his lithium. If not, well, I’m going to run toward the light. Surviving a nuclear attack has never really appealed to me. read more

The Sunflower in My Garden

Outside the window where I sit and write, the sunflower burst to life this morning. Yesterday it was just bud on a stem. Today it is cloaked in golden glory.

The sunflower grows wild in my garden. I didn’t plant it there. We lived in this house for many years sans sunflowers. But then a few years back, a crop of sunflowers shot up among the monkey grass and cone flowers. Most things in the garden have perished this summer under the blistering heat too wicked for even the heartiest of roses. But the sunflowers seem to bloom to spite the heat. As if to say, we are strong enough to stand no matter what wickedness comes our way. read more

Lock up those Climate Deniers

I received a text from my daughter around last night. “Minus the humidity, I feel like I might have an appreciation for your childhood without AC,” she wrote.

Perhaps you are unaware that Oregon has been under an extreme heat advisory?

Typically, I, a former Georgia girl, might scoff at the notion of an extreme heat advisory in Oregon as anything over 74 degrees. I’ve always felt that if Oregonians lived under the extreme conditions most Southerners do, they, too, might take to calling on the name of Jesus with more regularity. But what can you expect from a people who have grown up in a land void of cockroaches, water moccasins, brush harbor meetings replete with hellfire preachers and Holy Ghost rattlers? Not to mention, Lester Maddox, Roy Barnes and Sonny Perdue. read more