the wider world

post # 437
       It has been weeks since I've said much about the world outside the downstairs of my house or the physical therapy location.  However, while I have been busy healing from a small break in my left foot, I've not stopped being concerned about all that is evolving in the public arena. Being preoccupied is not an excuse for accepting the current chaos threatening our perceptions of what is normal.  I stay somewhere between brooding and distress. I do know that history will not be kind to non-action at a time like this.
         I have not accepted that anyone could deny that we are facing global consequences for what is happening with the world's climate. To not even encourage all the research possible about what could happen is folly. What has become of our backbones, to our brains, or to our souls to not take on this challenge. I live in coal country, and yet even programs that take on how we could do better don't even get a chance of support in the current government. I grieve for what we are ignoring despite our children and grandchildren whom we all supposedly love and care for. 
         In addition, I have absolutely no way to understand the separation of families at our southern border. Those young children are paying a huge price for the inability of grownups to communicate and do the work of compromise with compassion. It is seriously evil that records aren't even being kept about where the kids end up and whom their parents are. If nothing else, this is again cruel behavior by so-called adults bent on bullying and domination, and, might I add, greed.
          Of course I like many others am appalled by the constant lies from the president, and others, and his constant need for attention.  He seems willing to keep up constant chaos in order to feel that his life has meaning. I have met other people who also have this disorder, but they are not in a position to inflict so many people. For example, there is no way the discussion of how many people would be injured this week by some retaliation by our military wouldn't have --- early on ---- discussed how many people could be killed by it. Yet T. would have us believe that he did a generous thing by calling it off at the last moment. If it were true that he was not told, he should have fired all the members advising him for their incompetence, but instead he prefers to throw them under the bus so he can "look good."

          I know that I have had more time than usual to stew on this stuff, so thanks for reading this far -- I've said nothing for weeks, and now this. So, before sharing the two photos at the end of this post, here is a shout-out to other people who have had the "no weight bearing allowed" experience like I have had. And also here are some stories.
           It seems there are friends and family who had it and didn't complain loud enough at the time for me to hear them clearly, like my son, his son (age 8!), my college friend (Liz), my Martha's Vineyard friend (Patty), a local friend (Ginny), the manager of the Rowan County Arts Center (Ashley), my niece, and more. Patty had 8 months of not bearing weight, Ashley was a teenager who chose not to follow advice well so she went swimming with her boot, etc. (She now admits that was a very bad idea.) My niece has two small children and a demanding full time job but also family support.
           I've been hearing additional stories, usually from strangers of all ages who simply saw my boot and shared about how hard it had been for them. I know I got off easy, but by now I really know it. I could drive! I have insurance! I had help from family and neighbors and friends! I had many fewer obligations than I did when I was younger! And so forth. (BTW, I no longer have my boot, which I call my very own story starter.)

          I do want to share two photos today, because they are light-hearted and fun. Humor is essential, no matter our circumstances. 

       First, I've known this sweet rescue donkey for many years, but somehow I didn't pay attention to his name, until yesterday. (By the way, these photos have NO political meaning, honest.) Say the name aloud to figure it out:

Meet DonKeyOatey!

     Then, second, as a companion photo, there's this friendly moment during a walk that I once took in Alsace, France, with the youngest daughter of the French family I had lived with for a year in high school as an exchange student:

 
        with kisses and brays to you all -- Ann