There are two weathers that inspire me to cook Burn You Twice Chili. When it's very hot and when it's very cold. It's very cold. I have achieved Winterfullness. Yesterday we had a foot or more of snow (at this point who counts), today is very windy. It whips around the courtyard in a whiteout whirlwind, disappearing the world from my windows. Then it drops, and I expect to see the White Walkers
lined up by the recycling bins. This may be The Year of the Bugged Out Eyes. I am a Snowflake. Winter Is Here.
HildeBeest Underfoot must learn that she will get run over if she's in the way. Today's "ROWrrr!" wasn't the loudest ever, but she took off and is now throwing me shade and filthy looks from the bedroom. That tail she doesn't watch gets it every time. It was already broken when she came here. Still, no fur on the floor, so it wasn't very bad. She'll come out when she's hungry.
Today I had a short but deep chat with a friend, and we noticed how events look a lot like Gotterdammerung, and how The Hair is very Loki-ish. There's been a lot of phone time lately. A long-lost cousin we didn't know existed found us on the Ancestry DNA matches. This is the daughter of my Aunt Ruth, dead 4 years before I was born. Aunt Ruth didn't marry- it was 1954, she was 23, her lover was married. She came from wealth and social position via her adopted parents, and they sent her to Denver to give birth, and dispose of the baby before she could return home to Rochester. Which she did. A year later on Xmas Eve, she ran her car into a tree there, killing herself and 2 passengers. She was 24, a sorority girl college graduate. She taught PE. She was a perky blond, had been overprotected, and never had a chance to balance out because she died too young. We only found out her whereabouts in 1995, after my mother had spent 60 years wondering what had happened to her.
Ruth's daughter, Mary, grew up in a family that would never pass muster to adopt nowadays. She went to 12 grammar schools, lived in several southern states, and left them at 17 to marry the guy she's still with, in Oklahoma. They've done very well, and have a huge family and a great big house in a tiny town of 39. They're happy. I've spent almost 5 hours on the phone with her this week. She is definitely a Hendrickson.
Another of the cousins, a Ron who lives an hour from Billy in NJ, has also been in touch, sending photos of extended family. The Hendricksons rarely had less than 10 children each, and 8 or 9 would make it to adulthood and beget away. My DNA cousin matches go on for 250+ pages, at 50 people a page. Ron's gr-gr-grandfather was my great-grandfather. His grandmother lived to an old age and told family stories we never heard in our branch. I'm looking forward to sharing with these new peep! It takes a Hendrickson to understand a Hendrickson. lol
This Winter is reminding me of Winters when I was small. The snow is heaped high, and now being seated, is up to my shoulders when I push by. Today the sky is such a pure blue and the snow so white it makes your eyes hurt. Time to have some chili that'll clear my sinuses.
This Snowflake is resolved to resistance.
Winter Is Here.
Things are scary over here in the US. We have a crazy person in the White House and he's appointing awful rat bastards to important jobs that can affect us all. He's treading all over rights and people, and ignoring or sidestepping the Constitution. This is really happening, and I'm nearly as horrified on the inside as Rosemary when she screams that. On the outside I'm an old fat white bitch in a wheelchair with one raised eyebrow.
Well. Here we are, countless Executive (un-democratic) Orders later. I want to shove every single thing the Neocons made a huge deal about in Obama's 8 years down their throats and then cram everything Trump has already done behind it. It's getting hard to tolerate my Trump voter friends, as they show their ignorance 24/7. One, a guy I've known, laughed, and grieved with for years, claimed they were wearing vagina hats at the DC Women's March, and said, "is this what our nation's come to?" I lol'd and explained the reality- they were pink hats with cat ears- "pussy hats, get it?" Then I said I guess he didn't watch it, in hopes of driving home the point that he believes what he hears and wants to hear. I'm afraid I've lost that friend.
These are heavy damn times. Today a friend came over to watch a dvd set of the '76-'77 year of Saturday Night Live I just bought. The originals, the Not Ready For Prime Time Players. What happens? the DVD player dies. A micro of the macro. Nothing can be counted as safe or sure now. We have a dangerous, flippant businessman in the White House. Though I still can't seem to accept that in my brain, it's true. The Donald, that sonofabitchbastard NYC 70s real estate chiseler, is in The Chair. Jesus H. Christ we're fucked.
Thank you, DNC. I hate you more than ever.
I have no ideas. In the past I've found that when you get past the place of no ideas, good ideas and actions happen. But you can't hurry the place of no ideas being over, it just has to happen on its own. So here I am, in the no idea place. I hate waiting.
It's also frustrating to understand the ignorance of the righties. I was raised a Republican, my Uncle knew Barry Goldwater and my Nana was called "the Republican BattleAxe" by the Brooklyn Eagle. The Republican party was different then. For a bit on Nana, here: I Miss Nana
The left isn't left anymore and the right is beyond right now.
Maybe I won't live to see the pendulum make it back to where I like it, gently swaying from one side to the other, with reasonable people recognising not everyone is just like them, and they're not perfect anyway...
This is another fine mess.