Inspiration and Tea Parties

Aug 8, 2009 at 8:59 PM
Many people I know have been attending tea party demonstrations. I have not personally attended one, and am not sure whether I would. But it's moot, because I have children too young. I believe that mothers with small children should never make their kids attend anything they don't fully understand. Children shold not be at either anti-abortion or gay rights protests - I don't care about the political view being expressed - only the informed and thoughtfully inclined should march in protest. And children have usually not formed their own beliefs on these things just yet.

I was disturbed to see that the tea parties are so very underplayed in the press, per what they've said about attendance. Thousands expressed as hundreds, hundreds pared down to dozens, dozens not even getting mentioned.

There is no corporate agenda and no political gain in true freedom - hence the media ignoring it. What a shamefully bought and sold society we live in. Every single politico and every single corporation has sold their soul to a single devil - money - for different ends.

Anyway, here's a commercial for the tea parties, and I find it inspiring, as I am a proud American patriot - but not like most. I am neither Republican or Democrat. I suppose I believe in the Republic in it's original form, and always have. Libertarian without the druggie agenda, Constitutionalist without the religious fervor.

So here goes. I love this for reminding me that despite the mess, this country always does fight for what it believes in. And that we do hold on to our beliefs no matter what in this country.

Any action wherein the cause of individual liberties can be forwarded without violence or coup is a good thing. These protests are neither coup nor violent. I cannot imagine why anyone would be opposed to them. They are merely an assemblage to express outrage at the risks being taken - the debts we are incurring now will eventually pull the foundation of principles right out from under the feet of our nation.


And that is the basic difference between an American and a Patriot.

impossibly cute

at 5:16 PM
OK, I KNOW I promised never to post photos of my kitties and their adorableness.

But here's a moment I simply had to capture on film.

Manic Animal Purchase Spree

at 4:57 AM

For some reason, I got a hair up my butt that geting one of every kind of animal would fill that hole in my life that my sister keeps telling me is where a man is supposed to be.

So on top of the dog and two cats, I bought a rabbit (Jacques), and not one of those little bity ones either. He's HUGE. And I got a pullet barred rock hen (Barbara), four rhode island red hens (the Reds) a rooster (the only thing I've called him is "MotherFUCKer!" when he tried to wake me up predawn) and am thinking about goats.

However, although I now have lots to do every morning, and a decent supply of fresh eggs every day, as well as numerous different kinds of bags of feed, I do NOT have any smaller of a hole in my life.

But I can certainly fill all my spare time with petting my bunny.

He's very sweet.

Can I buy a man at the grange? And is he willing to live in the chicken house until I've trained him to treat my house the way I want it treated?


The girls and I have been fixing up yet another chicken house. The hens are all living in it anyway even though it's got big open holes in it.

I've GOT to finish fixing it up before we end up with another chicken massacre like the last one. That was awful.

And that's why we only bought 5 hens and 1 rooster this time. I dissuaded naming them, but for some reason the littlest one is named Barbara, and I have that sneaking suspicion that naming her was akin to the writers in a horror movie giving the girl a line like "But we can't just leave him there. I'm going back for him, just as soon as I take a shower."

I just have a feeling of impending doom.

Hence the urgency to finish fixing up the chicken house.

Pain in the butt, it is. I have Chicken wire scratches all over me, and the project is only half done. Argh.


Aug 5, 2009 at 3:02 PM
My chicken house was getting prepped all weekend. I now have four layers, 1 pullet, and a rooster.

I'm very excited to start having home-grown eggs.



Aug 3, 2009 at 6:13 AM
At times, I fall a little in love with a singer just while he sings. That's when I know that the song is merely the vessel for the voice, for the kindness and clarity inherant in the artist singing the song to me. And I wish I could spend time in his care, find out whether that person is what their song tells me he is.

Sometimes crying because of a song is more cleansing than a cup of tea or a walk on the beach. I feel purified, like the song reached into me and scoured me clean of the emotion it personified, a harmonic so close to my own feelings that It washes away the intensity of the feeling it communicates.

OK. On FaceBook, I am now friends with exes who broke up with me or who I broke up with in countless horrible ways. Each of these men decided either that I was no good and left, or that I wasn't worth fighting for when I left him.

So why do they all want to be friends with me now on FaceBook?

Do these people wish to truly know me, to truly help me, or care whether I have had a good sunday nap or what my sunsets look like? The minutiae and detritus I hear about on Facebook all the time is the sort of factual garbage that I hoard for telling to my sisters, to my best friends. The right to know that I was taking a bath this afternoon is set aside for my little sister to ask "why?" about, so I can tell her I got all scraped up and covered in dirt readying a chicken house. Or finding out that all my pens are out of ink at once could make my friends snort in appreciation of Murphy's law with me. I don't want to broadcast it out to the entire world. I want to share my moments in intimate contact with those who actually presently give a flying hoot about these things. I guess I still stand with that FaceBook should match reality for the most part.

How do I contract my FaceBook back down to a number of only my close friends again? Is that acceptable to do or will I be banned from "future-land" when it arrives?

I very highly doubt that any one of those men would bail me out if I was arrested, stand up for me to my enemies, or make a recommendation to a friend for me. Or lend me their hedge clippers even.

Do these exes of mine just want all of their exes to see photos of them smiling with their wives in their big old houses and get jealous despite not having thought about them in years?

I can't fathom why my old girlfriends aren't trying to find me nearly as often as my old boyfriends.