Ok, Friday. Long weekend ahead. I’ve sort of let you down this week, but work got mighty busy. I may be letting you down a lot in the near future. Hm, should have been my wedding vows.
I don’t remember such schizophrenic days. It is hard and flat Autumn in the morning, with the smell of the dead leaves and everything. You almost expect Halloween decorations at any moment. But by lunch it is gone – still summer. And a pretty comfortable one, too. Which means that even though I start my day thinking I can get away with a re-post of my Autumn poem, I am soon talked out of it by the weather. All the better, I don’t want to fire that one off prematurely, right?
Aaaaaand, the season of the politicking. I don’t know what is harder to take – the politics, or the constant claims of “I can’t take any more politics.” Oh, you can take it, and you do take it. I especially like the high ground taken by the Republicans who consistently claim that this isn’t their Republican party. That these Republicans are no good for anybody or anything. What a handy safety net, no? For most normal people, if your party loses you get to gloat while the victors take our country ever deeper into the morass, which is nice. It’s kind of like winning, even. But if your party wins, well, you had better hope it’s miracle season, otherwise you’ll have to explain why your side sucks. It’s kind of like losing. My, how uncomfortable this all gets. But if you can claim that your party isn’t actually represented at all, well, you’ve got nobody to apologize to, and nothing to apologize for. You haven’t taken your ball and gone home, but you’ve shown up to the football game with a baseball bat.
I’m not happy when I’m not writing, so that’s that.
We plan to make an effort at being a family this weekend, actually doing things together, and that should be fun. Hop a ferry over to Vashon island and mill about for a few hours. Do some grilling on what should be one of the last sunny weekends we’ll see for eight months. To celebrate as our schizophrenic days find their happy place, and settle into gloom. Time to get the house in order.