It's Indigenous Peoples Day. I found the shitweasels' Columbus Day proclamation particularly stomach-turning. Of course, he didn't write a word of it. That's all his little nazi, Stephen Miller.
I haven't yet heard what poison he spouted in Israel. He and Netanyahu will be roomies in hell.
Today, I'll be scoping out a few spots on my way to a celebratory lunch with friends.
We will be eating outside at a local pizza joint, and I'm going to bring it with me to work on there.
So far, this is the extent of fall foliage in Georgia. This poor maple was planted here by the parks department. It will not live long enough to get big. The summers are too long and dry, and the soil is too shitty for maples, but fools keep planting them.
I sat in my car in the park, multitasking like a madwoman and relishing every moment. I don't take NPR for granted anymore.
My phone was tuned to a live waterski competition where my waterman was taking yet another championship. There were two cannoli instead of a proper lunch, and I had a sheaf of printed pages to read and edit.
Is this heaven?
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