Tag Archives: #ImpeachTrump

Now is the Summer of our Discontent

Made impossible torment by this fog of humidity

And all the clouds upon the horizon looming

Lessen not the damp through lightning or storming

Now our brows are laced with gobs of sweat

Our pale-white arms hidden from the sun as we search for coolth

And fierce horns presage the coming of ships

Shrouded in fog – moistness made solid…

Okay, is it just me or would all of you out there like to wrap the climate change skeptics images-33in their bespoke suits and dangle them over the bayou of Louisiana without access to a/c? Or worse still – place them in the scorching hot cities of Europe – Paris, wreathed by concrete; Edinburgh, utterly unprepared for heat; London, on the tube surrounded by anxiety-sweating people suffering in polyester; Rome, in tourist season…again without any access to ice or shade or air conditioning…Or even Toronto. You know the perfect place.



Ideal shape for humid weather

I am melting melting melting, except not really because in order to melt one would require the ability to liquefy of which I can only dream. My cozy fat wrap seems a teensy bit dysfunctional at present.


It has set my MS off, so I am tripping over dust particles and dancing like a drunken soccer fan, looking for a fight like the same. I have fallen, not wisely, but too well, spraining my hand and denting a rib and generally mashing myself up. It’s not getting better, the hand or the MS or anything, and likely won’t until the mind-clearing breezes of fall. FML, as the word-impaired sorts say.



My parents didn’t believe in orthodonture until child #3


Truth be told, I have no right to complain. Life is overall good, and I am blessed with a loving son who has kindly arranged for house cleaning so I can spare my hand for more important things, like making blueberry sorbet or embroidering ridiculously small things. Or brushing my hair and chaining it back so that I don’t frighten young children…



After not doing a THING in the heat…


Today is their first cleaning day, and I only know this because the coordinator called me at ten last night to check if I was going to let the workers in. At the time, I was laying gasping on my chaise courte (in truth a meridienne)  like a beached cod, waving a plastic bag at myself for the breeze (and to keep the cat from eating it).  I looked around myself.

As anyone who has had official house cleaners knows, it ain’t so much the dirt as the clutter that fells us, though I am eternally grateful to said son for the help in scrubbing detail (not possible for me at present) (and truth be told, the idea of tumbling into my tub head first like Father William lacks a certain charm anytime, least of all in my current wounded state) (But I parenth).

085cf2013facbb3c3e02a2bbc017e5f7--alarm-clock-app-storeSo this morning, before all my %^*%$ “get up in a positive mood” alarms went off, screaming at me to ‘drink water’, ‘stretch’, ‘be grateful’, I was dashing about in a polka-like rendition of the IKEA ad ‘The People are Coming” 

As a side comment, who on earth has a kitchen that organized? Well, I do know of one person, but she is a superhero and we can’t all be like her, can we?(CV, you know I mean you…)

Also, note to self: delete said programs and alarms. They are just depressing you in this heat. New goal: breathe without falling over.

So I spin about, trying not to use sprained hand and failing, throwing things in drawers, which, unlike in the IKEA ad, I have very few of so it is likely I shall find the things again. Possibly. I have ordered tracking devices.

images-32Meanwhile, Bendicks, my cat, decides this, yes this, is the time to show how truly gobshite-y he can be – eating all plastic items, thrusting his head into cupboards and extracting feminine supplies on which to chew, pushing things off counters, standing just in front of me so I can step on him and he can look wounded, vanishing who knows where….

Hmm. It’s quiet. Too quiet…just a mo…

<extracts long partially chewed piece of plastic from cat’s intestine>


Yep. Summer. Be kind to one another. Hide your plastic bags.

Reunite the separated immigrant families!!! Oh, and while you are out? Impeach Trump and jail all his cronies, will ya?


Screaming and screaming

stock-photo-angry-man-screaming-88188004A few years back, the family and I went to see an “in the park” performance of “The Compleat Works of Shakespeare, Abridged.”

It was hilarious, but the second half of the play was rained out, so we went to see that bit at the theatre. Now knowing they would want audience participation, I wedged my kids in the front seats so they could have some fun. In the second half of the play, they perform abridged Hamlet, having dispensed with all of Shakespeare’s other plays in the first half.

In any case, they needed someone from the audience to play Ophelia, and the actors reached over the kids and plucked me out of the crowd. My role was to take on all of Ophelia’s inner thoughts and to scream out loud.

I did. It felt great. No, they said, that’s not good enough. So they got the whole crowd hollering Ophelia’s thoughts and I had to scream again. And I did. At the top of my lungs.

hqdefaultIt felt terrific.

Not only to scream, but to scream with enthusiastic support for it! Incredible!

Frequently, when we are overwhelmed with anger and frustrated about our inability to do anything about our situation, we are encouraged by therapists to scream in our cars. Scream into a pillow. Go scream out to the sea. All fine as far as they go, but nowhere near as purging as screaming AT someone.

There’s something about others hearing you scream…it’s validating in some weird way.

All over the world, people are looking at the US right now and protesting, screaming, yelling, shouting, making noise. They are hearing each other, and I’m sure it feels good to shout out the anger and frustration at this bizarre toddler presidency, this feeling that the 1404281384777end of the world is looming.

There is an audience for this screaming, but unfortunately it’s not the right one. Our screaming is like my first one, loud enough but without the support of the crowd. The right crowd. The ones who can make a difference.

It’s time to scream at our elected representatives all over the world, to force them to hear us, to force the downfall of the Trump presidency before the US descends into chaos.

46737925-angry-furious-businesswoman-working-on-computer-screaming-with-alphabet-letter-coming-out-of-open-mo-stock-photoIt may already be too late. But maybe, if we gather our crowds around us and scream at the actors, they, like the ones in Compleat Shakespeare, will drop what they are doing and stare with awe. Or at least pretend to, and change what they are doing, put the play back together. The real play. the one that has sustained us since Shakespeare existed. Good government and discipline, politeness and caring.

So help us God.