I was going to write something about this Memorial Day. I wanted to write something profound and to try to explain how someone like me, who is so adamantly against war, makes a point to remember those who gave the highest sacrifice of all.
After stumbling upon Flavio’s video, I realized I could not write anything better. I hope you take the 22 minutes to watch this video, and remember.
From left, me, Beardog Bob, and National Park Ranger Anne Wilson at the 60th anniversary celebration of Agate Fossil Beds National Monument on June 7, 2025.
The drive north on Highway 29, was a somber one. My mind was elsewhere and I didn’t take note of the weather. A good storyteller would have remembered to do that, but I didn’t today.
My supervisors.
EMDR and therapy have been rough lately. It’s okay. That’s how it works. However, I hadn’t anticipated the current deluge of events, which have rained down more drops than I feel I can handle all at once.
The blanket Mom made for Paul and me.
It’s been a year since I said goodbye for the final time. Mom was sent to the hospital in horrific shape. The disgusting and filthy place she had been sent to by the State made her worse.
A honey bee approaches a flower as it searches for nectar in the flowerbed outside Riverside Discovery Center.
“When are we leaving?” Paul said.
“For what?” I said.
“I’m so tired of this clown show,” he said.
Aeryn and Londo, probably plotting against me or judging me. Maybe both.
This post isn’t going to be my usual musings or a list of things to watch or any of the other usual stuff I write. It’s about consolidation. I have been thinking about a lot of things lately and it’s preventing me from getting done the deeper things I want to do. I figured I’d fire off some of the things bouncing around in my brain which I’m not sure I want to flesh out into full posts of their own.
Page one of a writing assignment in 1988.
This was how my 17-year old brain thought when given a writing assignment in English class. The assignment was to describe a room using as many adjectives as possible, but without making it sound like shit. I chose my bedroom, though the bits about the drum set were in my mind. It was turned in on March 4, 1988. I thought I was edgy and cool then because no one seemed to understand what I was writing. I got an A. That’s all that mattered at the time.
They always come at you sideways. The 19th amendment to the U.S. Constitution gave women the right to vote. Republicans have been pushing since early 2025 to get the SAVE Act passed. It would disenfranchise millions of people, but I want to focus on women in particular.
Irene, left, and Lori celebrate Christmas c. 1973 or 1974.
On Saturday, while I was making myself a chicken chimichanga, my nephew texted to let me know my sister had passed away.
At the beginning of each week, I make a list of goals. Sometimes, they are small. Most of January was scrapped because I couldn’t sleep. Waking up from flashbacks is horrifying enough, but at least I know what they are now and can process a little and try to get some more rest. The constant headache from no sleep is aggravating. Not being able to concentrate due to sleep deprivation is, well, tiresome.
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