Oh yes, I’ve moved from Tennessee to Oregon, and I’ve posted about the move, and the months of August – November 2020.
First, we had a national election:
We had a family Thanksgiving, where almost all of us could attend, including a few plus ones.
And just like that, it was Christmas.
Murfreesboro, TN is located at latitude 32.84. Roseburg is located at latitude 43.21. You would think I would have been prepared for what happens in December and January this far north. The sun only appears for a few short hours every day, and when you live on a north-facing slope, with tall timber behind you, the direct sun does not show her face for 2 long months. Plus that ubiquitous PNW rain.
Time for winter projects.
Then: a gun cabinet
Now: a Library
More visits from family.
Cut. Split. Stack. ad infinitum
Beautiful ceiling, but not much light.Winter landscape, before the grading.
This very good day.
Chanticleer, cock-of-the-walk
And one of his many ladyfriends
Scroll back up to: “…but not much light”
And that brings us to March. Stay tuned for more, and Thanks for reading!
First picture on the first day in the new house. Covid hair and all.
Second day. 3 of the 4 kids (plus their boos) arrived to celebrate the move! You knew this was coming. We have a total of 11 in the greater canine Jordan posse.
Roseburg is about 90 minutes from the coast, about an hour south of Eugene, and about 2 hours from the California state line. It’s home to the Umpqua River and Umpqua Valley. The Umpqua Valley is an agricultural, and more recently, wine-growing region.
The house itself was built in 1976, and while it’s not a “fixer-upper”, it has experienced several years of neglect and lack of maintenance.
One of the first and most exciting things we did was to remove the overgrowth of trees in front of the house.
This is what the view looked like in the morning…
And here’s video of the last tree they cleared. Exposed the beautiful valley below.
You can’t live in the cool damp pacific northwest without one of these!
And because I can’t manage without farm animals of some kind, we had baby chicks in the first week, and got baby goats in November!
The cuteness burns.
Glenda holding Pennsylvania, aka Penny, and Amy holding Georgia. Born November 3. =)
Son Sam and sweet squeeze Maddy came for a visit in November, and immediately set to work fencing to contain the goats and chickens. We were starting from scratch so it was a huge project. Nary an inch of fencing on the entire 5 acres when we got here. Now we have 5 contained areas crossfenced.
Sweet Maddy, PhD candidate when she’s not fencing.
The pants and boots tell the soggy story, but Sam got us there.
Then there’s the back deck. You can see the ivy was taking over. After pics to come.
Here’s a view of the side yard in September 2020.And here’s the view from the same spot in August 2021.
There have been some things to adjust to. One week after we moved in, in early September, the big wildfires of the 2020 fire season came. We had about a week of dangerous air quality, and wore masks outside. We even only let the dogs out briefly to potty.
Dramatic and terrifying. This was 10 days after we moved in.
Didn’t want you to forget we brought these guys along.
Bones, we like your choice of spots.
Visit from a precious friend in October.Can’t get enough of this.
Visit from precious family, because I LIVE HERE NOW.
The obligatory pic of the Grand, in his natural habitat.
We’ve blazed a trail up the hillside behind the house and have discovered our own little fairy glen. More pics of that as we work on it.
Some sad news too. We lost this old girl this year. The house is not the same without her snuffling self. We are so grateful for the 10 years we had with her.
Is this heaven? No, it’s Oregon.
I’m beginning to see my mistake. You can’t take a year’s break from your blog and expect to catch up in 2 posts.
I’m up to November 2020 in the telling. I’ll keep it going with more posts, until I’m caught up.
Thank you for playing along, and as always, thanks for reading.
I’m going to switch up my usual format of kittens, social distancing, nutrition, blahblahblah.
Because this week, everything changed.
I sold my house. I sold my farm.
I’m heading to the Pacific Northwest, to live nearer to my 4 adult children (don’t think you can get away from me that easily, my pretties).
And it’s been a remarkable experience.
I’ve had the house on the market since April. I had attempted to sell it last summer, and tried an auction, since the property is unique, and rural, and hard to comp. That was not even close to successful, not because the place isn’t totally wonderful, but because farm living, in an 80-year-old cottage, is not for everyone.
You have to love the solitude. You have to love the animals. You have to love the land, and the quirkiness of the cottage, and the history of the barns, and the work to maintain it all. I do. And I found a buyer who does too.
Of course, there are a thousand things that can scotch up the deal before it goes through, but that’s universal when the sale of real property is involved.
I’ll post more about the whole process as it develops. There’s no doubt there is a touch of the bittersweet. If you’ve read much of what this blog contains, you know I’ve enjoyed every moment of living here. But I’m beyond excited, ecstatic really, to begin this part of my journey.
In other news, we had a delightful 3 days with the grand. We ordered a 15-yard dumpster to clean out the barns and I’m mortified that we filled it. My honey picked up a new gig in NYC for the next 12 weeks. Did I mention I sold my house?
So here’s this week’s barrage of photos. I know it’s not the usual daily report. I’ve got packing to do.
A little canine on feline canoodling at Freethought
A little Americana with PopPop.
Don’t even tell me you’re getting tired of kitten videos.
Remember this family? The kids are almost grown now.
Sunset walkabout
I like my kittens windowsill-sized
Oh, we’re still in a pandemic, Black Lives Matter, and it’s 141 days until the election.
Start with a carpenter bee. Add its drilled hole in the deck.
I know. The light and angle are terrible.
Add a woodpecker at 6am.
There you have a delicious meal of carpenter bee larva for said pecker.
And a nice little mess on the deck.
That’s how my Monday started.
Tuesday, June 2. Day 79
Need to head back down to Atlanta to check on my folks for a couple of days. You know you’re not going to read a blog post without seeing pics of the kittens:
Helping me pack
Wednesday, June 3. Day 80
Spent the day driving down to south Atlanta. This billboard is in Dalton, GA on Interstate 85. If we flip Georgia in November, I might have to reconsider my belief in the supernatural.
I’ma have to ask for a citation
Thursday, June 4. Day 81
The new phone I had ordered for mother had arrived, and we spent the day getting it set up and getting her comfortable with it. It’s a struggle, but she tries so hard, and was able to order her groceries on the Publix app and get her delivery set up. Progress!
My dad, electrical engineer and retired Delta pilot, would like a book about how iPhones work. I teased him a little, til daughter Glenda found “iPhones for Seniors” available to purchase. Ordered and shipped.
Sweet mother
Friday, June 5. Day 82
Drove back to TN. Listened to My Favorite Murder podcasts all the way back. My honey had steaks on the grill as I rolled into the driveway. Summer has arrived in the south – hot and muggy, and just waiting for mosquitoes. But that also means tomatoes on the vine and lightning bugs, so I’d call it a wash.
Saturday, June 6. Day 83
Still no names.
Sunday, June 7. Day 84
The end of another week of social distancing. We’ll continue to isolate, and restrict our interactions. I miss the kids more than I can say, but I chat with them often and they’re all managing as well as to be expected.
The farm is beautiful – garden is blooming, grass and fields are green and lush, birds singing and tweeting, bees buzzing, oblivious to the utter chaos and pandemonium our nation is experiencing.
Totally dropped the ball on the blog this week. But that’s a win for everyone. No mundane posts about how my vegetables are growing or what the weather has been like.
Just lots of pretty pictures. Mostly of the kittens.
The two brothers. No names yet.
These guys have truly kept us entertained this week.
Tuesday, May 26. Day 72
Prissy Princess and her two brothers
Wednesday, May 27. Day 73
He loves them as much as I do
Thursday, May 28. Day 74
While we’re doing an entire week of pictures, here’s my daughter in Vegas with her social-distancing hair. I’m kind of loving it.
Friday, May 29. Day 75
Oh come on! How can you not love a bowl of kitty?
Saturday, May 30. Day 76
And unexpectedly, the honeybees have taken over my hummingbird feeders.
My googling has informed me that while they love this, it’s a less-concentrated form of sugar and dilutes their honey stores.
I’ll try to relocate the feeders to a sunnier spot so the bees won’t be as attracted. I don’t mind feeding them, but nectar makes their honey more appropriate for their winter food.
Sunday, May 31. Day 77
Today, I had the delightful opportunity to help a friend celebrate his 65th birthday, outside, social distancing observed. I ran by the store on the way to his house.
Ya gotta do what ya gotta do.
It’s been a rough week. The pandemic, sure, but the horrifying death of George Floyd, and the militarization of the police forces in our cities as our citizens protest this injustice is brutally painful. Blogging about tomatoes and peppers, and how we’re managing the isolation didn’t hold the same appeal this week.
First day of no caffeine for a week. Mild headache, a little lethargic on our daily 3 miles. My honey, however, was a hot mess – headache, achy, took naps throughout the day, really didn’t feel like himself until late afternoon.
We had another showing today – 3 cars and 8 people. They were househunting for a long-distance relative who’s soon to relocate to TN.
Grilled steak and salad for dinner, and a wonderful RfRx session.
Tuesday, May 19. Day 65
Took our morning walk and were back at home before 9am. Decaf coffee again, and we both had a much better day.
Leftovers to clean out the fridge today. Roast beef with gravy, fat pork sausage, and a couple of BBQ chicken thighs.
And here’s a little update from a few weeks ago:
Remember this little family?
Wednesday, May 20. Day 66
I’m institutionalized.
I’ve made the decision to go to Georgia to check on my parents, and I’m an Anxious Amanda (trying to give Nervous Nellie a break).
My brothers live in my hometown, along with my parents, but they are both single, and just to be blatantly sexist about it, they don’t see what I see when it comes to our parents’ wellbeing.
But I haven’t left my house in 10 weeks, and I sure haven’t driven my car on a road trip in that time. I’m being irrationally neurotic – do I have air in the tires? wiper fluid? gas? oil? My car registration expired in April, because I didn’t take it to emissions because they have to get into your car for that procedure. If I get stopped, I’ll have to explain that, and take whatever citation they give.
Then there’s the visit itself. They’ve distanced, I’ve distanced, but we’ll still wear masks and visit on the porch and not share food or utensils. I’ll stay in the downstairs, that has its own entrance, and strip the sheets and clean the bathroom before I leave, in addition to asking my mom not to go downstairs for about 3 days afterward.
Thursday, May 21. Day 67
It hasn’t been too bad. Once I got on the road, and got the heebiejeebies out, I was fine. Turned on a podcast, put on my shades, and 4 hours later, I’m there.
Porch Picnic
They are managing, but not flourishing. Who of us is at this point? Dad’s memory is a real challenge, but between the two of them they get through the days. We do grocery delivery once per week, and have their medications delivered.
Georgia is one of the handful of southern states which doesn’t have a phased reopening plan. Their church is still not meeting, for which I’m grateful, but most stores and restaurants are open.
They’ve moved a couple of folding chairs to the driveway, so that when my brothers stop by, they can safely have a few minutes’ visit.
Sights in the time of corona
Mother’s 4-year-old iphone is deteriorating and she can’t access data, which is a hardship because it’s the only internet they have (for Facetiming and Zoom calls with the family, as well as streaming her church services). We’ve ordered her a new one, and I’ll zip back down when it arrives to get it set up for her.
Friday, May 22. Day 68
I mentioned my brothers live in our hometown. My older brother was out of town, but has recently had his kitchen rehabbed, so Mother and I took a trip over to see it. It’s gorgeous, but then this happened:
Prissy prissy Princess. Not me, the kitty.
He had a litter of kittens in his garage, and because I’m losing my 2 grown cats back to their rightful owner (my grandson), it was perfect timing to adopt this pile o kittens:
The grey point is female, b/w both male
After driving back home, they’ll ensconced in my bathroom for a few days of adjustment. No names yet – we’re watching their little personalities develop first.
Saturday, May 23. Day 69
Goofy pic of the best part of staying home. Steak and Truly don’t hurt.
Sunday, May 24. Day 70
Here it is Sunday again. Memorial Day weekend. Spring is about to transition to summer. We’ll continue our hunkerdown strategy for a while yet.
First zucchini of the season, just left of center.
Totally forgot about the No Caffeine week. I dropped the effort in my visit to my parents, but my honey continued, and his blood pressure has stayed a little lower than usual. He thinks he’ll continue it for a while.
One of the things I have been surprised about (although I shouldn’t have been) is how weather-dependent my days have become. Looking at the weather forecast is the first thing I do each morning, and I structure my entire week’s activity around the forecast. Rain means inside work, cleaning the house, catching up on email, etc. Sunny days are for walks, working in the yard and garden, watching the chickens, and simply being outside. Before Covid, I was aware of the weather, and might have watched the forecast to know when to mow, but not nearly to the extent I am now.
Tuesday, April 28. Day 44
Tennessee “opened up” yesterday. What a mistake.
I understand and embrace that there is nuance that we are missing with a full-on, blanket Stay Home order. In my non-medical opinion, there is tremendous value to being outdoors, including vitamin D levels, and many folks stuck inside are missing that. More effort should be put into trying to schedule time outside in communities. Open parks and green spaces, but schedule a system where not everyone is out at one time.
Many stores have no-contact pickup dialed in: TSC, Kroger. Our experience with ordering from Walmart resulted in canceling our simple order of birdseed when we discovered their pickup required GOING IN TO THE STORE TO FIND THE PICKUP DESK. Not exactly curbside.
My parents are beginning to worry about the food supply. They have plenty, both my brothers and I have farms, we have lots of resources available, but it still causes them to stress. To them and to others, I offer this as the insufferable know-it-all I can be: most of the country could embark upon an eating strategy, and survive and even improve their health by adopting intermittent fasting.
When we force our human bodies to burn fat instead of sugar, which means eliminating the sugar (carbohydrates of all forms) in our diets, we can live off of our own fat stores for long periods of time. Even a lean adult human has enough fat to survive for days, and those who carry more can survive longer, “eating” ones own body fat.
And the hunger/psychological piece of the equation? When insulin is stable, we don’t have the wild fluctuations that lead to craving and what is perceived as hunger. We don’t think of it this way, but why would we be hungry when we have so much excess “food” hanging around on our body? Switching to a fasting lifestyle involves both retraining your body to burn fat, and simultaneously eliminating the urge to eat caused by massive insulin spikes.
This was a sweet, unexpected view on our walk this evening:
We walk the farm most evenings. This event occurs every year, and we look and wait for the babies. Tonight as we crested the bank, we saw this lovely couple and their little gozzes. If you’re a reader, you’ll remember the big nasty snapper I posted recently – unfortunately, this is that pond. We’ll keep an eye on this family and post updates.
Thursday, April 30. Day 46
Oh April, you’ve been such a tease! Warm, cold, cool, hot – you’ve had it all. A frost on the 12th and a freeze on the 15th. And you go out today with a brrrrr. Buh bye. Maybe May will be a little less fickle.
Friday, May 1. Day 47
What a joyful day! Observing precautions and safe distances, my 2 sweet girlfriends, one with her precious little daughters, came to the farm for the annual Releasing of the Butterflies! This young mother ordered caterpillars for the girls to watch as they cocooned and then emerged.
Sweet little girls. Photo by Susan Steen
The Release. Photo by Susan Steen
And a visit to all the farm animals. Photo by Susan Steen
Saturday, May 2. Day 48
Today was Mulch Day.
We’re still trying to get the farm ready to put on the market. I’m ready to relocate to the Pacific Northwest, to be nearer to my 4 adult children. If I could scoop up this sweet little 8-acre paradise and move it to the west coast, I would. Since I can’t, I’m looking forward to someone else enjoying this beautiful place as much as I have.
Sunday, May 3. Day 49
And we end the week with a bang! Thunderstorms have been rolling through middle Tennessee all evening.
I took this picture at 4:24, just as my honey was pulling dinner off the grill. It began to cloud up, but we thought we could get through dinner, which we did. As we were clearing the table, the wind picked up.
I took this picture at 5:12.
And this is the back deck:
And the front yard:
These two cedars are the oldest trees on the property.
Power is out all over town, and big trees down everywhere. Grateful the damage wasn’t worse. We’ll start the cleanup tomorrow.
Winter’s back. Couldn’t even get our full 3 miles in today, because I underdressed for it. Out go the sheets again over the tomato beds, not to be uncovered until Thursday. So I cooked most of the morning – a big pot of brunswick stew for a wintry day.
Tuesday, April 14. Day 30
Another teasingly cold and sunny spring day. Plants will have to wear their little blankets another 2 nights. I’m glad to inside out of that biting wind – I can even watch my little chickies flap their wings and run around their pen from my kitchen window. It was a good day to clean the house and work inside.
Yep. it’s time.
Well, he’s beautiful to begin with, so
Wednesday, April 15. Day 31
Last of the cold days. Pretty and sunshiny, but one more chance of freeze tonight. When there’s no work to be done outside, may as well show you our lunch.
Low carb bagels from Fox Hill Kitchens if you’re interested.
Thursday, April 16. Day 32
Spring’s back! The frost got some buds here on the farm – mostly the crepe myrtles and a few of the leaves on the pepper plants, but that’s the end of the frost danger.
Swearing-in, social distancing style
While the fam Zooms with pride
Friday, April 17. Day 33
Scenes from a Friday
*sigh*
One friend made them, another delivered them. Such kindness.
Saturday, April 18. Day 34
Today was an adventure. Had barely gotten started on my morning coffee (which, if I’ve never mentioned, is ground and brewed and blended and delivered to me every single morning by my honey), when I saw information about C19 testing in Rutherford County, Tennessee, where I live.
Free, no need to have exhibited symptoms or exposure, no contact drive-thru testing. For only 3 hours, only today. Up we hopped, dressed and in the car, to line up at the local Health Department before 9am. Many LEO directing traffic, well-controlled pattern up and down city blocks culminating in drive-thrus on both sides of the building.
We chatted and made phone calls and listened to the news while we crept along, waiting for our turn. Just over 3 hours after we got in line, we got to the testing area.
A few quick questions: name, address, phone, email. Asked if we had insurance, but there was no follow-up. Asked if we had had symptoms or known exposure. Then the notorious swab up each nostril, unpleasant but not painful, and over in a second. Then instructions that we’d get a phone call in 3-5 days, whether positive or negative, and to continue to stay home if we could.
A sweet kiss for staying healthy
Why get the test if we’ve had no symptoms, no contact, and have been distancing at home?
I want to send a message to Tennessee and my social circle to get tested.
I believe that with as poorly as this crisis has been managed at the federal level, now nationwide testing is our best hope.
While we expect to test negative, if we test positive, we’ll be even more vigilant for symptoms, and we’ll implement the last few actions we can take – no outgoing mail, only grocery delivery (no more pickup), and not even a trip to take trash and recycling to the dump until our 14 days have passed.
Sunday, April 19. Day 35
We close out the week with this joyful moment:
I had read on social media that others in my area had had the annual first sighting, but I didn’t see this sweet little fella until late today! And it’s a chilly, overcast day, so I really wasn’t expecting him. It’s a delightful sign of spring that I anticipate every year.
In addition to keeping my honey and I isolated on the farm, and conversing with the 4 adult children and their partners in isolation, and tracking my grandson who lives in Utah, I’m also trying to ensure that my 83/82-y-o parents are complying with social distancing protocol alone in their home just south of Atlanta.
They’re doing a great job of tolerating the circumstances. Their church services are all cancelled, I have groceries delivered once a week, we text and chat every day. They have vast cable tv resources, but no internet, so to me that means they miss a lot (streaming their online church services), but they’ve never had it, so they don’t complain about it.
Last week I had a delivery made to them of some plants from their local nursery. It was a gorgeous pile of blossoms:
She was so surprised and delighted. They have a big front porch and they sit out there for hours birdwatching at the numerous feeders. Her hanging baskets are always beautiful, always red and white, and last year I found tiny hummingbird feeders that can be added to each basket so the birds get really close.
She immediately set to planting, digging and designing, then getting my dad to help her hang them.
She sent picture after picture of getting them arranged – 4 large baskets to hang on 4 hooks on the front porch.
Then this morning, she called me in tears, hardly able to talk. You can imagine me holding my breath, waiting to hear what she was so upset about. Did one of them fall down? Is it one of my brothers? My dad? Is someone showing symptoms?
The squirrels had gotten into her baskets and dug around and flung plants everywhere. In the span of 5 seconds, I went from relieved, to anger at her reaction, to laughter, and back to neutral as we talked it through. By the end of the conversation, we decided I would have some kind of rodent repellent delivered, she can pick up all the plants and sweep up the dirt and reassemble the baskets. She was even able to laugh about it at the end.
The whole experience fractured me. Of course I know the psychology of it – her emotion was entirely displaced, she’s tried so hard to be optimistic and comply with the rules, and those baskets mean a lot to her in a non-weird spring season. But sadness overwhelmed me at the thought of their suffering at this time in their lives – the isolation, the loneliness, the separation from their very active senior adult group at their church.
It will be a story we can tell and laugh about in the future. But right now it is a total gut-punch, and tiny example of what is playing out in millions of households around the world. This is so unnatural, and is taking a toll on our social species, in far more dramatic and significant ways than this short tale reveals.
It was a lovely day on the farm, but my morning phone call stayed with me well after sunset.
Tuesday, April 7. Day 23
Nothing but planting from sunrise to sunset! I think this theme is a little repetitive on this blog, but it is spring on the farm, so.
Starts with a big ol truck bed full of dirt
Beautiful.
Home grown tomatoes. Nothing better.
Sunshine and water is all we need now.
And suddenly, it’s gin o’clock.
Wednesday, April 8. Day 24.
Today was a day.
We lost John Prine last night. I went to bed sad, thinking about listening to him in college, the impact his music and lyrics had on me.
I was out of sorts when I woke up, stressy and worried and restless. It was house-cleaning day, although 2 old people don’t mess up a house too much in a week. Before my honey and I got started cleaning, I put on some Prine, and the first chord hadn’t finished before I gave in to my tears. I cried about everything – fear of the virus, worry about the children and my parents, the loss of this beautiful man, the absolute frustration of what the Republicans have done to the country, the despair for the suffering that so many are experiencing in this health crisis.
I swept and mopped and scrubbed as JP’s voice soothed my raw nerves, like it used to do in my youth. In a couple of hours my house was clean, and my emotions were spent. My honey took my hand and led me outside without a word, where we headed out for our daily 3 miles on our little country lane.
We walked and chatted, he gave me space to grieve and rant, and before long around the bend came a very familiar car.
It’s hard to see, but that hatted bandit is my girl Steen. She took a moment to drive out to wave from the window, and at a safe social distance to see our faces. It was the sweetest moment, and one I needed.
I had also posted a little whiney rant on Facebook, and after our walk I saw comment after comment of love and support.
I am an optimistic person, sometimes almost unrealistically. I rarely have dark moments, and when I do, they pass quickly. Today was one of those rare occasions.
But with the love and support of my honey, my family, my friends, and my community, I had my moment, felt it, expressed it, and moved on. I know this won’t be the only day like this. I know there are others who are suffering so much more than we are. I know that everyone is affected by this crisis to varying degrees.
Thursday, April 9. Day 25
Ay, this spring weather. Spent the day bringing in my as-yet-unplanted plants, and covering what I’ve already put in the ground.
Friday, April 10. Day 26
This is the easiest day to write a happy thing of the entire distancing series up to now. Today, at 10am, my oldest son texted me one word: PASSED.
Ben, partner Kirsten, Suzy and River
What he was referencing were the results from the February 2020 Washington State Bar Exam. Which he passed.
He’d already been hired in the Public Defender’s office in Chelan County, in Wenatchee, WA, but he needed the pass to be official.
Having taken the Bar Exam myself (California), I know how hard and challenging this test is. I’m so very proud of him, and so excited for his career.
Meanwhile, on the farm…
I’m growing linens, apparently
Expecting a low of 34 degrees tonight, so all those tender plants get a nice cozy blanket.
Saturday, April 11. Day 27
I know I’ve blogged about how we’re eating: low carb, no grains/no sugar, mostly one meal a day, with a later snack. But we’re also trying to be a little playful about it. Here’s the menu board for a few days this week:
It’s a little silliness, but helps us keep our good humor about not going out to eat, which we love to do.
Sunday, April 12. Day 28
End of the fourth week. Still no plan, especially here in Tennessee.
On this rainy Sunday, it is as good a time for a rant as any.
We have a binary system in our presidential election, for all intents and purposes. You vote for one, the other, for a nonviable 3rd party candidate, or not at all. That’s it. Those are the choices.
We are at such a level of destruction and emergency in our country, it is my opinion that if you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem. In other words, if you are not with us, you are against us.
So I don’t care what your motivation is to vote for Trump.
Don’t like abortion? I don’t care.
Hate liberals? I don’t care.
Bernie didn’t win? I don’t care.
You’re not in a swing state so you claim you can make your political point with no damage? I don’t care.
Your own important and special reason? I don’t care.
Who you vote for is your choice and your right. But it is not without consequences. When you vote for Trump, you have chosen to empower the damage and pain he causes. I take that personally – that hurts so many people. And while I respect your right to vote as your conscience leads you, it affects how I feel about you. If we were friends up to that point, your vote alters the friendship. It alters my respect for you. Our values are too far apart to sustain a friendship. Your voting action far exceeds a difference of opinion or political strategy, or whatever it is that you claim you are doing.
So on your social media when you boast about voting for Trump because derpderpderp, don’t expect my respect or friendship.
And as to it being my responsibility to convince you otherwise? You’re a Trumper, by definition and your own statement. I have learned a slow hard lesson that it is not worth the breath and frustration it takes to try to reason with a Trumper. Hard pass. I’ll be out doing what I’ve done for years: registering new voters, encouraging nonvoters, and trying to win what is left of the persuadable middle.
The last day of the 4th week. Let’s end with a photo of my lone little azalea.
It was a week of highs and lows. Squaring my shoulders to move forward.
Happy. Healthy. Heathen. 