• An insane amount of mowing took place yesterday, along with digging out a garden bed for the memorial garden, which led to yanking more weeds here and there, which led to two really tired gardeners at the end of the day.
And then I had a sleepless night. Well, not entirely sleepless, I did go to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, but I’m running on empty and two cups of Peets French Roast this morning.
• This morning finds me pondering how there can be a candidate for the highest office in the land who embodies everything I was taught not to do, everything my parents (and my church) said was morally wrong. Gordon and Shirley Hill raised me with a strong sense of what is right and wrong; you must respect others, bullying is wrong, there will be no name-calling, do unto others as you would have them do unto you, making fun of anyone is wrong, lying is wrong, judging someone as less-than because they have a disability is wrong, racism and prejudice are wrong, misogyny is wrong, xenophobia is wrong. I cannot help but think of my father right now. We talked politics a lot in his last years and he was appalled by what was going on. Oh, Dad, if only you knew just how much worse it’s become.
That we have a candidate who continuously and flagrantly says and does what, to me, is simply immoral and cruel and dangerous, yet somehow gets away with it, is a frightening commentary on our society. As Don said: Everything I grew up believing was right and kind and good and loving has been turned upside down and what I believe is morally wrong is being applauded.
For heaven’s sake, making fun of someone with a disability would have knocked him out of the race in any other year. He would been called out for that and his Presidential aspirations would have been dead in the water. Why was his obvious mocking of a reporter with a disability okay? Why do so many excuse that behavior? My nephew is disabled. Is his case different because he’s four years old and cute?
And what about the rest of it? The insulting tweets, the disparaging comments on women, the marginalization of anyone who is different, who believes differently?
Shame on everyone who turns a blind eye to that behavior. Shame, shame.
Though I respect different points of view, I’ll admit to having a very hard time with those who look away and excuse his comments with “He’s telling it like it is.” Really? That’s not the way it is in my world, nor the world of those I know and love, nor will it ever be that way in my world. So while I will continue to do my best to be respectful in the face of everything I despise and abhor – because my parents taught me that was the right way to behave – I will not like it. I will not tolerate it. I will not support it.
And in case you’re about to say you don’t want to read political commentary on my blog, it really isn’t political commentary. It’s a moral imperative. If I muzzled my very real fear of what we are becoming, I wouldn’t be honest with you, and most importantly, with myself. To not speak out is wrong. Gordon and Shirley didn’t raise me that way.
• Since they’ll be gone very quickly, let’s look at some peony and catalpa buds.
Between the peonies, the wild roses and the catalpa flowers, we are in Heady Scent territory right now and we love it.
• Check out the hollyhock! It’s already huge. I wonder how tall it will eventually get? The brown stem to the right is where last year’s flowers ended. It’s already taller than that and we haven’t even seen the beginning of the flowers. This self-seeder is a blessing.
• I dug this out of the closet the other day. My next project. It’s 1:24, or half scale, so it will take up less room in our tiny cottage. I’m doing my research by reading all about other Fairfield builds, all the while thinking that I’ve never done anything like this before.
But I’m excited and eager to start in on a new project as soon as I’ve handed over the TSP to Don. June 24th, my friends. A big birthday for my husband and a big birthday for my nephew, Little Z. Yes, they share the same birthday! Isn’t that lovely?
Happy Tuesday.