The collection of books I hope to read in the next year.
Author: Irene Page 2 of 49
Linotype machines, Anthony Hordern and Sons department store, c. 1935, gelatin silver print, from Anthony Hordern and Sons pictorial collection.
My apologies for being late this month with this post. If you read my post “October wins, but by less of a margin,” you understand why. Now onto three documentaries which helped keep me going.
The White River is an amazing place to spend your day. As I trudged through the brush and made my own trails, my friends, Steve and Sandra, went fly fishing. It was a beautiful day with little wind, lots of sunshine, and plenty of time to breathe and relax.
The screaming woke me up. It took several moments for me to determine the screaming was coming from inside my head. It happens. It is part of my trauma. It is part of a flashback. It gets worse, like everything else in October.
Me, right, with my friend Roberta.
The second No Kings protest against the Trump regime was held on Saturday, October 18, 2025. These are some of the photos I took of all the people I know who turned out for the event in Scottsbluff, Nebraska.
A photo of me I actually like. No Kings Protest in Scottsbluff, October 18, 2025. The guy with the Trump balloon took this photo of me.
It wasn’t until 2025 that I decided to protest. I’ve made the phone calls and sent the letters, but, over the last 15-20 years, all I get is a polite “fuck you” or no response at all. At today’s No King’s protest in Scottsbluff, I joined at least 300 people in an effort to try and effect some change.
I’d encourage you to watch the four-minute video on YouTube. Johnny Bananas does some good work and deserves the click on this one.
The weather is starting cool off. Fall is here. What can you do on a chilly night? My grandmother always taught me to keep learning. You don’t have to be in school to continue to educate yourself. As such, here are a few documentaries I think are worthwhile to check out.
A drawing I recently made.
One of the most important things my grandmother taught me was “it never hurts to ask.”