Vicki Lane's Blog, page 50

What Can I Do?

                                                                                   

This was written before the presumed assassination attempt on the GOP candidate. Of course, I deplore such an act, but my feelings about the candidate have not changed. And the GOP 's attempt to blame it on Biden's inflammatory rhetoric (or worse) is laughable. Don't let this distract you from finding out about Project 2025. (Note: many of the page numbers cited in various memes re P2025 have been changed so that fact checkers may call foul when they're cited.)

The recent ruling from the Supreme Court, coming on top of Biden’s weak performance at thedebate and the ensuing pearl-clutching amongst Dem politicos, not to mentionthe growth of authoritarianism all over the world, and brutal wars in Ukraine,Gaza, and Sudan, and, oh yes, the downward spiral of our planet’s environmenthas left me . . . what?

I think I’mby nature optimistic but at the same time, fairly cynical. A difficultcombination to be sure.

When facedwith an unpleasantness, my first thought is to ask what, if anything, I can doabout it. If it’s dog poop on the rug, I can deal with it. If it’s the existential breakdown of life as we know it, my options are more limited.

At my ageand with my limited mobility, marching and protesting is right out. No onewants to be the elderly woman overcome by heat in the crowd. And in theseriously MAGA rural environment in which I live, going door to door in anattempt to change minds seems like an exercise in futility which would onlyendanger the live-and-let-live policy we’ve adopted with our neighbors for thepast fifty years.

I can writeletters or make calls to my congress persons, send some small amounts of moneyto progressive political organizations. (The cynical part of me doubts any ofthis does any good.) Of course, I can and will vote at every chance (no matterwhat the cynical one whispers.)

So, whatdoes one do in these perilous times, when our country seems to be lurching intoa quasi-dictatorship, when money buys SCOTUS justices, when the Republicancandidate promises tax breaks and deregulation in exchange for dollars, whenthe whole of the Republican party seems eager to embrace a man I wouldn’t havein my house?

At 81, Isuspect I won’t live to see the worst of these trends mature. But I worry aboutthose who will. Though I’d be okay with catastrophic flooding in Mar-a-Lago. Oh, wait, DeSantis is taking care of that by keeping climate changeout of the textbooks.

As for our81 year old president—he has accomplished more and still makes more sense than the red-hatted loon,raving about sharks and batteries and exploding trees. And should Biden prove incapable, Kamala Harris is an excellent backup. Query: Has the GOP forgotten that as Reagan sank into Altheimer's, Nancy Reagan's astrologer may have been running things?

As a matterof fact, the Democrats could nominate the proverbial yellow dog, or a wad ofbelly button lint and I’d vote for it rather than the anointed one of Project2025.

So I retreat into the precept of an unknown Zen master:

Brew the tea correctly. See that the house is warm in winter and cool in summer.

Breathe. . .

                                                     

                                          

                                                 

           

Abstracts

 

Little Worlds

                                                                                

Our neighbor and fellow longtime 'new person' has a new book out--the third in a trilogy about Madison County. Rob is known and celebrated as a photographer, but in this ambitious work, photography intertwines with fiction and memoir. 

Like many of us newcomers, Rob's attachment to the land is deep--and sometimes complicated. His photographs show his fascination with the residents, old and new. The excerpts from his journal detail his coming to terms with his place in this rural county. The fictional section of this trifecta is the imagined story of what comes next.

This story of an imagined future is one in which his descendants return to the long-abandoned farm, in search of safety in a world grown increasingly lawless. The refugees slowly find others like them and begin to learn how to survive in the mountains, and to build community (much as we 'new people' did back in the Seventies and Eighties.)

The future story is interlarded with photographs and excerpts from the journal that suggest similarities between the two times. And there is a generous section of Rob's award-winning photographs to close out the book

It was a fascinating and nostalgic read for me. While we certainly weren't hardcore survivalists, part of our rationale for moving here was to provide a safe haven for family should things get bad. Rob's story imagines just such a future.

You can learn more about Rob and his other books on his website.

His new book is available at Penland's in Marshall, Malaprop's in Asheville, and at the Asheville Art Museum

A Letter from My G G Grandmother

                                                         

Written in 1917 by his grandmother to my maternal grandfather in response to his request for family history:

Dear Huborn,

Just a few lines to thank you for your invitation to visit you. There is nothing I would enjoy more if my health would admit. I know I would have a pleasant time with you and Ruby but as I grow older I feel the need of staying at home. My health is very bad this winter-----Now these records I am sending are to the best of my memory. I do not remember dates. Now if this is not satisfactory please let me know & excuse all errors.

                                With a heart full of love for you both, as ever,

                                       Grammother Northcutt

Your grandfather J.H. Northcutt was the son of W.M. Northcutt who came with his father J.W. Northcutt from South Carolina and settled in Butler Co., Ala. Do not remember the date. J.W. Northcutt was a Methodist preacher. Your great grandmother Northcutt was a Miss Nancy Morrz (?) of Ahoobuta, Miss. who died when your grandfather was born. Don't know her parents.

Your great grandfather Benjamin Mason came to Alabama with his father Peter Mason from Savannah, Georgia. Do not remember their dates.

Your great grandmother Mason was Miss Margaret Mancil. Came from South Carolina with her father William Mancil during the trouble with the Indians. Do not remember these dates.

                                                   

As I was getting ready to post this, it occurred to me that possibly I was repeating myself (ah, old age!) And a quick search through this blog (now over 6K posts) told me that I'd already posted about this letter--and at considerably more length HERE
Too late to dream up another post . . . sorry.

Her Many Moods

                                                                              

Tuesday morning's red sky warning.

Tuesday afternoon's drenching rain.
And Wednesday's clear and cooler weather.Ahhhh. . . . .

Yarn Crafts

Meema and I made God's Eyes on Monday. They are also called Ojos de Dios in Spanish. I am learning a little Spanish. This first one is for me with all my favorite colors. I picked out the colors and said which one went where. Meema did the winding and knot tying. She said the yarn was slippery and might be frustrating for me. She said it was frustrating for her.

The yarn was in beautiful bright colors and we made one for my mama and daddy, using their favorite colors with a purply pink at the center that is one of my favorite colors. 

The dark and light blue are Daddy's colors and the turquoise and green are Mama's colors. I know they will love it.

Grandma and Apa like oranges and reds so this one is for them.

Meema is going to look for some thicker yarn that will be easier for me to use. But we thought of something to do with the yarn scraps.

I drew a picture of a unicorn and an apple tree and painted it. Then I glued on yarn for his mane and tail and horn.

And also some yellow and orange yarn for the sun. Maybe we will do more crafts another day.









 

Recent Reads

                                                                                                                                                

Zadie Smith's Swing Time follows the lives of two mixed race English girls, both obsessed with dance. Tracey has the talent, making it to the chorus line of various shows; her friend, the protagonist and narrator of the book, becomes the personal assistant of a famous singer.

So much is explored in this book, which shifts from England to  West Africa, where the famous singer (white) is planning a school for girls. Misplaced philanthropy, diaspora tourism, families, friendship, careers, choices . . . it's an excellent, engaging read on important subjects. Highly recommended.

***

I'm a longtime fan of Harlan Coben's Myron Bolitar series. He writes terrific standalones too, like Stay Close. A soccer mom with a secret, a once-respected photographer, and a detective who can't let go of a very cold case are thrown together as the past threatens to become all too real.

Coben's characters are well drawn and his dialogue crackles. It's a fine, fun read that will keep you guessing. 

                                                                                

Looking East

                                                                                  

Time is Relative

                                                                            

 

We try, in accordance with Josie's folks and our own thoughts on the subject, to limit Josie's screen time. The established rule up here is video time at 1:00 and at 5:00, each preceded by her reading three books to me. Mostly, it works. Mainly because it gives Meema a break.

"What time is it?" is a question I hear quite a lot. She's still shaky with analog clocks for anything but the hour, so I encourage her to look at the digital clock on the stove.

Friday was long and hot, and the first What time is it? came at 10:45, according to my cell phone. We were in the dining room where she was messing with the Castle People and drawing, and I was reading.

She noodled about a few minutes then went to the kitchen.

"Meema, the clock on the stove says 1:00!"

"No, it doesn't. It's not even 11 yet."

"Give me your phone and I'll show you!"

She disappeared back into the kitchen, returning to show me her evidence, right there on my phone.                                                                                          

 Oh my goodness, Josephine! I find myself almost taken in by

 your clever ruse. 

But not quite.

Potpourri from Friday

A fairy princess came to spend the day.

We checked out the two new fish that Renee A. gave us.  They are little but they aren't afraid of the big guys.

The little cattails are turning to fluff.

All the dogs love the fish food. Bailey and Bob steal it off the surface of the pond.


It was a very hot day. According to Wunderground weather it was 89 but felt like 98. But then we had some rain and by supper time it was 72. Ahhh!

It's always a good day when a fairy princess visits.