Ignoring The World

 I believe this sums up how I have felt all day. 

That is Jack's tail. Many nights when I'm getting ready for bed, I find Jack waiting. He's probably not waiting for me so much as just already asleep on the bed. Sleeping on beds is pretty much Jack's life. 

This is fine and lovely except for the fact that I have to rearrange the bed every night because Mr. Moon cannot sleep with more than the lightest of light-weight covering. He sleeps under a sheet and what we fondly call his "blankie" which I do believe was a tablecloth at one time, washed so often that it is very, very soft. He actually has two of these. I have patched these things over and over and they are now past mending. I don't know what we're going to do. I have quite frankly been freaking out about this because those things are in tatters. They rip if he moves his feet. There are very few things this man is picky about but what he sleeps under is definitely one of the few. 
But anyway, at bedtime I have to fold back the cover on the bed or whatever it is that I'm going to sleep under, and put his pitiful cover on his side. This means that I either move Jack or else I just fold the quilt over him and let him figure it out. I mostly choose that method because he does not seem to mind that nearly as much as he minds me trying to move him. It may even be a game now. He just lays there with his head under the cover and his tail sticking out for as much time as he considers he needs to convince me and himself that this is a pleasure for him which he has chosen to enjoy. And then, he turns around and sticks his head out. 

I try not to threaten his dignity, but simply accept that this is the way of Jack. 

But yes, I haven't felt like even sticking my head out of the metaphorical covers today. I was planning on doing yard work again but I just could not make myself do it. My back does not feel very good nor does my stomach, and I suppose it could just be more kidney stone-related malaise or perhaps I am telling myself that, just as Jack tells himself that he likes his head being underneath a quilt or comforter. 

Perhaps part of my malaise is due to the news about Trump getting one delay after another in his trials. How the FUCK does this happen? Remember when Ronald Reagan was called "The Teflon President"? He had nothing on Trump who seems to be able to weasel (at least temporarily) out of everything from keeping classified documents in a bathroom to being tried for fraud involving using campaign funds to pay off the porn star he had sex with when his wife had just had a baby. But that's not the worst part to me. The worst part to me is that his groveling, ass kissing, American flag and Maga Hat wearing followers just do not care. THEY DO NOT CARE! They don't care that he rapes, cheats, steals, lies, snorts drugs like a Hoover vacuum, and can't hold a cognizant conversation. They don't care that he really does NOT know the best words or chooses the best people or that he tried to overturn an election with violence that ended in the deaths of some, or has stated quite plainly that his goal is to be a dictator and that he is well along with his plans and now pretty much owns not only the RNC but also the entire fucked-up Republican party and the Christian evangelicals are so far up his ass they breathe through his mouth. And perhaps worst of all- they choose not to understand that Donald Trump does not give one goddam shit about them. That he is no doubt laughing at them as they send in their widow's mite, convinced they are saving the world with each dollar they give. 

Oh god. I'm just so scared. I think that's it more than anything. Scared for my children, scared for my country, scared for the entire world. 

All right. All right. That's enough of that. 

Hey! Here's what the collard greens look like as they bolt:

A little like broccoli, don't you think? I'm sure we could eat those stems. Soon all those little pod-things will open up to reveal yellow flower clusters. 

And here's what my buckeye looks like. 

Can you see those yellow and red flowers? 

I try to concentrate on things like blooms and blessings, beauty and my babies. 

Mama's reading the boys Harry Potter after a long day of hiking. Reading Harry Potter to her when she was little was one of the most pleasurable things of my life. 

A sunrise, I think. Could be a sunset. I don't know which way they're facing. 

There is much to be grateful for even as there is much to be terrified about.  

Maybe a martini will help. For a little while, at least. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon