Summer follows Spring

Love these blooms.

Blooms of full, lush summer that surge with health, fragrance, and muted pastels. Predictable.

Spring does not deter them with unexpected freeze nor wind. Unpredictable is Spring’s surname. Hope is its first name.

Who could believe that Spring’s spindly naked branches could bear such hidden loveliness?

The pattern, the cycle, the repetition of the earth is there. Just look.

Hope Springs.

Guns and Bullets

I was struck by a political cartoon in a recent issue of our local paper. Four Founding Fathers were depicted standing around a table pondering a paper entitled, We the People. The talking caption was one Founding Father saying, “Should we make it clear that we’re talking about the right to bear arms that take 10 minutes to load and fire one bullet?”

Please don’t misunderstand that I think we should return to some far time in the past when everything was so perfect and so wise.

However, I’m tired of the NRA rhetoric concerning the right to bear military type arms when one is not in the active military.

I’m appalled at seeing horrific scenes of the dead from schools, workplaces, malls, movie theaters, churches, and clubs. Horrific.

I’m upset that our government, all of it…state and federal alike, have not had any success in addressing this issue, in large part due to the lobbying clout of the NRA.

And yes, I understand the mentally ill are among us. There was a time when family and friends knew better than to let a gun fall into the hands of the mentally ill. As a society, we are now having a more difficult time identifying the mentally ill until something horrific happens.

Today, the mentally ill have jobs, they go to college, they get married, they have children, they go hunting, and they buy guns. Some function at high levels, some not so much. But that is not the point. Suffice it to say, we don’t always know who is capable of these horrific crimes. Anyone who knows me will not think me capable of committing an act of mass destruction against innocent people. However, just in case you really don’t know me all that well and I am actually walking around looking and talking sane at the moment, if my access to military style assault weapons is limited, or not so easy for me to buy, then perhaps I won’t be able to do so much damage when, or if, I reached a point of insanity.

Or let’s just say I am filled with hate for a particular group of people. Let’s say I’ve been planning an attack for some time. Perhaps I am a loner, living in a tunnel, far away from people who love me. If so, it will be difficult for anyone to determine or see signs of my hate and insanity. I would be under everyone’s radar.

But, what if that isn’t the case? What if I am living with my husband, interacting with my family members and in all ways acting rational except that I am spending more time at gun shows, buying new rapid-fire guns, and stockpiling lots of bullets? Instead of going to the firing range once a month, I’m going every day. Does anyone see a few red flags here? Does any family member talk to me or ask me what’s up with the Annie Oakley routine? I hope and pray someone would see the unusual behavior and get me some help.

There are duck hunters in my family. Duck hunters can legally have 3 shells in the gun’s chamber. If they can’t hit the duck with three shells, well that’s one lucky duck. As a human being, I do believe that if we can have rules for ducks, we should be able to make a few for people. We need to demand from our elected officials some modicum of protection from the insane or just plain hateful terroristic persons that live among us.

 

 

 

 

 

Alzheimer’s

One mind; Creative and Keen
Now Slipping, sliding, gone.

Two Eyes; Bright and Snappy…
Now Staring, dull, glazed.

One Voice; Clear and Strong…
Now Stutters, stammers, quits.

Two Arms; Lift and Hug…
Now Weak, limp, slack.

One Back; Firm and Brawny…
Now Stoops, bends, twists.

Two Legs; Quick and Nimble…
Now Struggle, buckle, stagger

Two Feet; Steady and Sure…
Now Shuffle, stumble, trip

One Body: Perfect from God…
Returns to God…
In Perfect Surrender.

Little bit, alright…Too much, no good

Vegas! A pleasant mix of bright sun, gentle breeze and azure skies. But wait! This is Henderson, NV. It’s a suburb, a quiet community not far away for any who crave the Vegas Strip with all its glitz, glamor, and razzle dazzle.

Henderson is the eastern air corridor into McCarran International Airport, which is located almost smack-dab in the middle of the Strip on Wayne Newton Blvd. From my vantage point in Henderson, I sit in my daughter’s back yard which is landscaped with rock, ever-blooming roses, young lemon and orange trees, and a half moon of artificial turf…desert fare for desert dwellers, and I watch the overhead planes stuffed with eager passengers. Southwest and Allegiant seem to be favorites, although I do see a smattering of Delta and United. The people in these planes are fun folks to be with; people with bright, happy eyes going on vacation. Pockets are crammed with money and credit cards paid down and ready to take the plunge into the “city of lights.” The Strip is a wondrous sight with Bellagio’s bubbling fountains dancing to Broadway show tunes. Universal Studios must have had a hand in developing those believable facades of castles and mansions that line Las Vegas Blvd with all the inherent dreams and wishes imbedded for our wide and unblinking eyes. The MGM Grand, Mandalay Bay, Caesars Palace, Wynn, and of course, the Trump, as Las Vegas’ tallest residential building.

While the Trump may have had to do a fast stepping financial dance with this grandiose building opening right at the beginning of 2008, he seemingly is doing quite well eight years later. Trump is blazing his way across the USA, competing and beating the dickens out of his Republican opponents. Who would have thought that America’s voting conservatives, God fearing men and women, would crave the bright lights, the razzle dazzle, the façade that has been more than a vacation spot for all of Donald’s life? I would guess many, if you count the votes, love this style. Many faceted creatures we are.

I prefer the country or quiet suburb. As my mother said, “A little bit alright; too much, no good.” Wise woman, my mom. Have we had too much?

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What a Mess!

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m confused.  Between primaries, caucuses, delegates, Super delegates, CNN, ABC, CBS, Fox News, MSNBC, and Saturday Night Live my mind is in a muddle.

My hope is that an investigative journalist may step up and shed some light on this election debacle in time for us simple people to figure out the good guys and gals from the bad.  Whew!  What a mess.