Friday, May 27, 2022

Reaping what we sow

Well, it’s Friday in America, so we’ve got another school shooting. An 18-year-old man bought a couple of AR-15s and 375 rounds, shot his gran in the face, then went to an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas, where he fatally gunned down 19 fourth graders and their two teachers before being stopped by the police. Seventeen other children were wounded.

Although born in North Dakota, his name was Salvador Ramos and he apparently wasn’t white enough to be taken alive, like the 18-year-old who murdered 10 Black folks at a suburban Buffalo supermarket a week ago.

This is Texas—where decades of Republican rule have made it easier to buy assault weapons than it is to vote or to seek out reproductive healthcare if you’re a woman (men—just line up here for the meds to treat your ED problems; testicle tanning will be available next quarter; naturally, all insurances will cover)—but it could have been pretty much anywhere. Anywhere someone with an XY chromosome configuration feels aggrieved and wants to vent his anger. Because he’ll have no problem buying firearms.

Every fucking time we have a mass shooting, Republicans at every level of government circle the wagons and propose more ways to twist our society into pretzels to avoid putting even the tiniest controls on the sale of guns. They piously intone “thoughts and prayers” for the victims while pocketing their checks from the NRA (who in turn has inexplicably copious amounts of funding from Russia) and accusing anyone who suggests some gun control laws of “politicizing the tragedy”.

Texas’ governor, Greg Abbott, made an appearance at Uvalde on Wednesday, engaging in faux “leadership” before he buzzed off to a campaign fundraiser. Ted Cruz—the utter emperor of performative piety—was there, too, looking like the bad fairy at Sleeping Beauty’s christening. Not the season for CancĂșn, I guess.

(Cruz and Abbott are both speaking at the NRA’s Annual Meeting today in Houston, where they will not mention the true cost of indiscriminate gun ownership.)

Democratic gubernatorial candidate Beto O’Rourke showed up to call them out (interrupting thoughts and prayers with “do your jobs”), which sent the entire stage full of clearly well-fed White mostly male scrotes into a frenzy of outrage. I bet all the sworn personnel were itching to draw their weapons and blow him away; only having cameras there from every news outlet on the planet stopped them. Is this photo from Reuters not outstanding?

I’m going to step away from the current carnage for a moment and bring you reminders of the aftermath of previous school shootings, in Newtown, Conn. and Littleton, Colo. These are tweets, so consider the source (although a reporter from Sandy Hook did reply to the firehouse one to confirm), but they resonate as true:

Why the almighty fuck are we putting more families through this again?

Also, Nicole Hockley, who buried her five-year-old son Dylan after the Sandy Hook slaughter, has described how Dylan’s eyelashes rested on his cheeks in his coffin; a cloth draped across his face below his nose covered the fact that he had no mouth because his jaw had been shot away. Uvalde parents are going to have to identify the mutilated bodies of their children the way she did.

As invariably happens when the mass shooter is white, Repugs are falling back on their sorrowfully intoned, “mental health issues” excuse. I listened to an NPR interview yesterday with a retired deputy sheriff from Uvalde who asserted, “It's about a hurting kid that didn't have the relationships and the connections that he needed. That's what I think the problem is, and that's a tough one to solve. It's easy to pass a law, but it's hard to change a heart.” Asked if he therefore thought that the focus on gun control legislation was misplaced, he pontificated, “I don't know if it's because that's maybe easier to respond to than the moral issues, those deep community fibers that have to be rebuilt somehow. That's hard work. And I think a community like this that's smaller and closer knit together has a chance at doing that work.

Here's the kicker, for the benefit of Mr. Change a Heart: red states consistently vote against any social programs that could alleviate the causes of “hurting kids”—they won’t even fund physiological healthcare, much less mental health services. Too busy greasing the skids for corporate pollution and tax cuts for millionaires. The hearts that need to change first are yours.

Assuming you have them.

I'm going to point out one more thing: going by the Latino surnames of all the victims, there would be no particular reason for Republicans to rethink their positions. Like the Black victims in Buffalo, they are members of groups Rs are trying to disenfranchise at every opportunity. Replacement, don't you know.

Well, it’s Friday, and I’m supposed to have an earworm for you. Changing it up—I’m giving you a guy named Steve Kerr, who coaches the Golden State Warriors basketball team. Here’s what he told the world just before the Warriors played the Mavs in some tournament. I never heard of Kerr before Wednesday, but he said everything I wanted to, so here he is.

Turn up the volume loud enough so even a Repug can hear.


Thursday, May 26, 2022

Canid update

Okay, well—I’m relieved that I’m not dealing with a possibly (fatally) sick fox visiting my back yard. , But the coyote it really is clearly has mange, so I've got to do something about that. My choices are apparently ivermectin, which requires multiple doses, and something called Bravecto, which will take care of the issue (caused by the Sarcoptes sabei mite).

I looked up Bravecto and saw this:

And I’m sorry to say that my first thought was, “Why would I buy 44 lbs of medication when it only takes one dose?” Then I realized that the poundage referred to the size of the animal being treated. Duh.

Yes, the Bravecto is a little pricey, but the chances are better of taking care of the problem with a single administration (probably going to inject it into a hard-cooked egg) rather than repeated doses of ivermectin. Besides—I would not be able to buy ivermectin in a store without overexplaining that I am not using it to treat covid.

I’m a tad concerned that now I have coyote(s) in the wildlife rota. I’d also like to know why they’re eating birdseed and not squirrels.

It’s always something.

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, May 25, 2022

SOS

People, people—what happened to this fox’s tail?




(This one's a crappy pic of the head, but I wanted you to see that discoloration on her flank.)

Apparently red foxes get mange from a blind microscopic mite, but this one seems to be a grey fox? Looking at these pix, maybe she has lost more than her tail fur, so she does have mange?

What can I do to help her?

Stop press: This is not a fox, it's a coyote! I now have a coyote visiting me.

 

 

Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Nature's mysteries 8

It’s time for another round of help Bas Bleu identify local plants.

These…things are along a stretch of the W&OD Trail.



What I find interesting is the circular growth pattern. Is it some type of grass? I dunno.

Help a girl out, here. #IDme

 

 

 

Monday, May 23, 2022

Gratitude Monday: testing

Gratitude Monday—my, my, my. Here’s what I’m grateful for today:

Got an email Friday announcing that the office in the People’s Republic had been exposed to COVID last Tuesday and Wednesday. Everyone should be aware, etc., etc. etc.

I’m in the office Mondays and Tuesdays, so I was there during the exposure period. I was disinclined to get fussed, because on a typical day I might have a brief convo with someone once, but the truth is that—except for training sessions—I’ve never seen more than 7 people working on my floor, and this past week was no exception.

However, we no longer have to wear masks to move around the office, and I don’t know who was carrying, so to speak, so during a conference call Friday afternoon, I pulled out one of my free US Government rapid tests, read and followed all the instructions, swapped both nostrils (ugh) and waited the 20 minutes.

With this result:

Yay.

 

 

Friday, May 20, 2022

Arrows of desire

Today’s earworm is not a song because I’m honoring the composer/performer Vangelis, who died yesterday at age 79. His Oscar-winning score for the 1980 film Chariots of Fire was a key component in the amazing story being told, so here’s the opening titles cut.

Crank up the volume.


 

Thursday, May 19, 2022

Petals

As a liberal arts major and new military historian, I cannot tell you how much I love the story about a Canadian of Ukrainian descent who is painting flowers around the bullet holes left in Bucha. Ivanka Siolkowsky began doing that after talking with a man who had lost his son and his home and pointed to the scores of holes in the fence around his garden. In her efforts, she’s been aided by a four-year-old, painting daffodils, poppies daisies and other flowers in a kind of pivot on the swords-into-ploughshares thing.

There is so much unbearable pain, horror and ugliness in this war; tbh, in the whole world. And it's going to take so much and so long to repair all the loss. I am encouraged that anyone with a heart and a brush (no major artistic talent necessary, as Siolkowsky admits) can help to replace them with blooms, love and beauty. What would it be like if everyone metaphorically picked up a brush and did this? 

You know: cultivate a space for beauty.

 

 

 

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Another look

 

I confess I’m not the world’s biggest fan of azaleas. Not sure what the deal is; maybe it’s that they’re shrubs. Although I have a gardenia bush, and I like camellias, the rest of shrubdom is kind of meh for me. Not that I don’t enjoy hydrangeas, peonies and azaleas, but I just…whatever.

However, this year I’ve made a concerted effort to pay attention to them. With these results, from initial bud to full-on flowering.







Not bad.

 

 

Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Timely reminder

I’ve started taking my daily walks before I go to the office because even when the temperature is in the 60s, the dag-blamed humidity around here makes it feel equatorial. As it is, halfway through my circuit my tee-shirt is soaked and the gym towel I carry is on the wet side of damp.

And we’re only halfway through May.

Well, as you might imagine, by the last leg of my walk I’m usually pretty much focused on getting indoors and into a shower. But yesterday morning I passed another walker who’d stopped and pulled out her mobile phone. She pointed to the sun breaking through the morning clouds and declared its beauty.

She was right; it was gorgeous. And she was right to stop and appreciate it. And to remind me.


Monday, May 16, 2022

Gratitude Monday: bluebells

Today I’m grateful that my understanding of the beauty around me has been expanded by a friend of mine who’s something of an expert on wildflowers.

It’s kind of easy to ignore wildflowers because they tend to be outnumbered or shoved out of sight by cultivated flowers and shrubs. Also, in my view, they seem to be mostly small and low to the ground.

But a few weeks ago on one of my #tulipmania forays into the District They Call Columbia, I was introduced to Virginia bluebells, which are (as you might expect) mostly blue bell-shaped flowers. But imagine my surprise a week or so later to discover a patch of bluebells right down the block from me, in a park.








Even bees love them.

They’re gorgeous, and I’m grateful I now know what they are and where to look for them.