Trump is Trash!

 

Why complain when you can do something productive? And I intend to do just that. In a moment of brilliance, or possibly insanity, I bought the above raccoon costume. I have a plan. I'm going to get our old school metal trashcan and make a Trump dummy to go in it. Then, and here's the good part...I'm going to put it on our front lawn, don the raccoon costume and march around with a picket sign that says, "Trump is Trash!" 

We live on a sort of busy corner, so I'm hoping if I go out every night during rush hour, I should get some lookers. Not sure what kind of response this will get, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a blast doing it! I figure since reason has been thrown out the window, why try to be reasonable? He doesn't like the rulebook, well motherf#$&er, neither do I.

Ride Again!

 

I've now survived Covid, menopause and a divorce. Pretty sure I can get through this Trump crap. I feel like I need to catch you all up on the Ten S situation (and yet pretty sure most of you know most of this business).

Whew. Where to start? Lots of loud music, and less loud music. Life is much tamer, and weirdly wilder than it used to be.  Even before Covid, I went out less. And oddly, that was a good thing. It meant I was really happy in my little cocoon. And then Covid brought so many things into focus.

It's entirely possible that I'm happier now than I've ever been. I have someone to love who loves me, my kids aren't really kids anymore, my job is morphing and I'm actively putting myself out to pasture in a gentle way, and I'm more at ease with myself. Getting old can suck, but some of it is fucking awesome.

Two things that I could never have imagined 10 years ago have put a spring in my step. If you have followed my life, you know what they are, debate and wildlife rehabbing. One totally cerebral and one that is all love and fuzzy shit. I feel like a complete human being. I feel like I have a place in the world, a place in nature,  a place in time, a place in our future. That is sublime to me. Why does shit have to ache so much to get to this point? 

So, I'm really hoping that some of you will ride again. Some rides you get on and they're OK, you move to the next one. But, some rides are so awesome, you grab your friend's hand and race back through the queues to get right back on, laughing all the while, just as excited, because you know you're going to love every second. I'm buckling up for the second ride. Eyes closed, hands in the air, riding again.

This Kitty is Feelin' Bitchy

 

'sup, bitches! I'm back and haven't changed, well, except for the extra wrinkles in my fur and the extra kitty yummy tummy. 

I literally feel like I'm holding my breath everyday. Waiting for another shoe to drop. No one told me there were more than two shoes. 

I miss my friends. I miss the community we had here. I'm sick of the book of faces. Too much of everything. Except not enough of my friends. We've all been reduced to one or two sentences. Words are all we have right now. Words and our vote. I want to hear your voices. I miss them.