We Have Eyes

We had a little time together just before the storm. I kept my sore heart under wraps.  Some games, some gossip,  a family movie night, the Michael Keaton/Jack Nicholson "Batman"

almost held up. Almost.

I made it home before the storm. Charlie got to have a little snow and ice fun as school was closed Monday and today they are having remote learning. Jake gets to proctor.

 

Reading HCR's nightly letter got me the first good night's sleep in ages.  Will the tide turn faster than the Titanic of American Democracy? I think, yes.

I'm grateful for the least little bit of silliness to keep me from

swinging from tears to rage. Harry's costume reminded me how much I enjoyed my B&W series. The new music, not so much.

Watermelon Sugar and Boyfriends will be tough to top.

The quilts (and others)  are all rolled up in the closet, begging me to find a venue.

Someone (many of them) are using AI to riff on the Resistance logo from Star Wars. Each state bird fitting into the design. This is the Georgia Brown Thrasher. Pretty impressive birds IRL. When they land on the lawn looking for food, all the other birds head for the trees. Songbirds with a strong hint of raptor to them.

I tuned in but was a little disappointed when I realized that the pukes were just taking the opportunity to reiterate their lies and horseshit, desperately shrill. Speaking over him and cutting off his answers.

 I wanted him to come out swinging and swearing. Spitting flames. Instead, he gave quite, measured confidence. He has the evidence and that's what matters. He will be a player.

I struggle between these two paths. If I were twenty, I might already be locked up. 

This should be a contender for the Pulitzer prize.

As if Renee Good wasn't enough.

This image taken moments before Alex Pretti was killed stops my heart because this could so easily have been Colin. 

You've seen his camera work. He is always the first to help a stranger should the need arise. Old-fashioned manners, good humor and heart - his father's son. 

My 5 Calls might get me investigated because I really unload on those congressional answering machines. No threats, just my unadulterated venom and a mother's/grandmother's fears.