Especially #9

Deviant Dictionary

Just a few minutes ago, whilst unsubscribing from numerous email senders in order to unclog my clogged up inboxes, I ran across the word disclaimertional. Yes, I will use it in a sentence. If you do not wish to receive these disclaimertional messages from us, click here. Not really knowing what disclaimertional means, I assumed it referred to the email it was at the bottom of in tiny print. So I clicked there. I can't find this word in any dictionaries and spell check keeps underlining it in red. If you are familiar with disclaimertional and you know what it means, please educate the rest of us. 

Obvious Enough?

I've been enjoying Continuum on Netflix. It's a decent combination of scifi time travel, a depressing dystopian future, and crime/cop opera. The aforementioned dystopian future is ruled by evil corporations, and I was amused by the present-day naming of one of those evil corporations. It doesn't take much imagination to swap around the S and the M and come to an obvious conclusion. I like obvious. Sometimes I don't want to think too much. And it seems that an unthinking populace is precisely how the evil corporations took over. There are no dire warnings of reality television stars being elected to positions of trust and power, but I still have one and a half seasons to go. 

Influenza Aftermath

That's me in the photo, enjoying my morning coffee. Still in my flannel jammies and taking in the view of my South Dakota backyard through the patio door. I love coffee. I've loved it since I was seven when my Norwegian grandmother, Esther, would serve me up a cup of the thinnest coffee imaginable if I happened to be sitting with the other grownup ladies when cake was served at a family gathering. If there was ice cream with the cake, I would stir a spoonful of it into my coffee, essentially an equivalent to doctoring it with cream and sugar. As an adult, even though I enjoy the occasional iced coffee or a seasonal pumpkin spiced latté, I take my coffee black. Hot, black, strong, unlike the coffee of my childhood that you could likely read the newspaper through. For the last five or so years, my favorite has been whole bean, burr-ground Island Blend from World Market, drip brewed to perfection. A predictable, daily dose of joy. But my recent bout of flu has seemingly rewired the coffee pleasure center of my brain. To my great disappointment, coffee is tasting like mud and the usual tantalizing, rich aroma is undetectable. Leaving me with staving off the dreaded caffeine withdrawal headache with a cup of English Breakfast. Which is tasty, and really okay, it's just not coffee. I haven't experienced coffee aversion since I was pregnant with Reid, and he's going on twenty-six. That was promptly remedied by giving birth. And for a number of reasons, barring some kind of miracle, it's highly unlikely that I currently have a bun in the oven. I am clueless as to how to remedy my café-free existence. Think of me while you're enjoying yours. Thanks, ever so much.

Emma Gonzalez, American Hero

Happy 54, Cully, Wish You Were Here

The baby won't stay in the stroller so it becomes a conveyance for purses. Cullen and Pam are on guard duty. Downtown Atlanta, May 1993

Always the most serious of goofballs. In the gift shop at The Mammoth Site. July 1995.

Uncle Cully with the first of the three nephews, although at this point in time there were only two nephews. May 1991 in Brookings.

High school graduation day, May 1982. I apologize for my 80s hairdo. 

Obviously, If You Are a Responsible Gun Owner, This Doesn't Apply To You

Every day that goes by with zero legislative attention to meaningful gun control, there is blood on the hands of the Congressmen who do nothing but offer prayers. There is blood on the hands of the NRA whose lobbying efforts and campaign contributions buy the loyalty of the Senators and Representatives. Fuck every last one of you who thinks the Second Amendment protects your right to own weapons that were designed for one purpose, to kill other humans, lots of them, quickly and efficiently. This insanity must stop.

My People

Feeding My Cold

All three members of this household are afflicted with some form of creeping crud. Coughs, sneezes, and phlegmy moans are all about. Newton is unaffected, but he is useless to wait on us. I feel much better today, but am still a bit whiny. Perhaps I'll venture back into Yorkshire via Downton Abbey. But first, I shall brush my teeth and put on some daytime clothing. And all without the assistance of a lady's maid. Though having one today would be lovely.

Winter. It's Pretty.

Buy This Music!

A long anticipated day has arrived. My most brilliant and talented son, Reid, has released the soundtrack from his video game, Chatters the Squirrel. You can give it a listen or purchase it here. Stay tuned for the release of the playable demo of Chatters! Yes, I'm a shameless shill, but us moms get to do that.

Pagan Holiday!

Happy St Brigid's Day! Or Candlemas or Imbolc or Groundhog Day. They all celebrate the growing light and the return of life to the Earth. So. Light a candle. Make a bed for St Brigid and invite her in. It still feels like winter but there's a bit more light at the beginning and the end of each day. Yes, it's due to the tilting of our planet on its axis. But we all need a little magick to get through the day.