The R Word

What would it take for you to hit the streets? Just wondering.

Because?

Patriarch Pointing

Christmas Eve, 2007. My dad, pointing. Not sure why. (Maybe some wine instructions?) I covet the painting behind him. Always have. It's been in our family for decades. I think it's somewhere in the Tehachapi Mountains. We all had good fun. A bit subdued this year. Go figure. Being around my children made my holiday happy indeed.


For the first time ever, not a single gift was unwrapped. My father talked with us all beforehand about celebrating without the usual gift-frenzy this year. It felt so right. Not Christmas shopping was refreshing. A first. Family members exchanged cards and pleasantries. The children/grand children's cards contained money and/or gift cards. There was much more time to talk, laugh, and be together. Something that rarely occurs. Since my dad declared that cards were o.k., my silly man thought it might be funny to give each family member a deck of playing cards. We did. (I guess we did shop for those.) He has a strange sense of humor, which is only one of hundreds of reasons I love him. We supplied dessert again this year. He made the apple pies with our own Granny Smith apples. I made: fudge with and without pecans, gingerbread, sugar cookies-decorated-by-younger-daughter, and shortbread cookies with pine nuts, our own fresh rosemary, and Meyer Lemon zest. Never made the rum balls, but maybe they'll be New Year's rum balls. I am enjoying my holiday time-off immensely. No work until the 3rd of January. No school until the 7th. If I can only manage to NOT look at too much bad news, this break may provide a much-needed vacation for my raw psyche. More hot baths, less news. That's the way. Uh-huh.


Meanwhile, back at the Crawford Ranch...
Bush Signs $555 Billion Spending Bill I read a comment today about this latest expenditure. It stated that Bush must be held accountable, as should anyone who cast a vote in his favor.

Life During Wartime

My youngest, on guitar(s). The high school had their end-of-year barbecue bash last week. It was a fog-free day, which is always a bonus. Parents were invited. She played acoustic on an original song, written by the girl next to her. (first photo) Then she played electric guitar with different classmates. (second photo) They did "Brain Stew" by Green Day, and a rousing "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" by The Clash. It rocked. Hard. I believe that even Joe Strummer himself would have been honored. I was insanely proud, but kept my cool. (Didn't want to embarrass her more than absolutely necessary.) She has one more week as a freshman. Too much.

My pals from San Francisco arrive tomorrow morning, for a day visit. This is thrilling news. One of those buds is my Aiko Bro, so I can't wait. I've missed him, and look forward to some walking, talking, feasting, and laughter. Few friendships follow you through your life. This is one.


Then they will head homeward while the man and I watch the last-ever Sopranos. On Monday, I cancel our HBO until August 24, when Bill Maher comes back. I can't tolerate most television AT ALL these days. (besides Comedy Central, of course.) Especially the cable news networks. Imagine news networks that showed us 24-hour-a-day raw footage of the streets of Baghdad. Bombs, blood, bodies, and all. Instead of poor, pitiful, Paris Hilton. Too horrifyingly real? Perhaps, but I bet people would WAKE UP. Why won't they? Is CNN like Soma? How the hell is that stupid-spoiled-psycho-white bitch's pretend sorrow more important to this country than the real sorrow of thousands suffering? Someone, please explain it to me, because I am going (calmly and quietly) out of my mind over it. Time for yard work therapy.


Ugh, more youtube? Yep. Joe Strummer flashback: