Saturday Morning Thoughts

In the wintertime I spend my Saturday mornings shopping for and/or delivering your groceries to you so you don’t have to go out in the rain and the cold, but in the summertime you don’t want your groceries delivered on a Saturday morning. You’re at the ballfield, or the farmers market, or wherever it is you go in the summertime. That’s especially true this year; last year you stayed at home hiding from a disease you now won’t vaccinate yourself against.

Instead Molly and I walk with her entourage. Miss Biddy pisses on the culverts to leave a message to other cats. Yes, she is female, and yes, she pisses like a boy. She is what she is.

The faeries have come.

I pick up the pinecones in the yard and dream of the day when those damn pine trees are replaced by crepe myrtles. Now that my HELOC is approved, that dream will eventually become reality.

I weed my flowerbeds and ponder where to put still more flowers. I wonder if painting the trim work pink is too much.

I’m so over those of you who bitch about what is wrong with the world and how things are so much better when white people run things. You already have more power than you deserve.

I unfriended one of you this week because you had the nerve to post on Facebook that embracing diversity is anti-white. Funny how you forget that Jesus you always feel the need to defend was not white.

You practically do run the South, where COVID is on the rise. You won’t get vaccinated because Trump, or Fox News, or your preacher, or some stupid shit you read on social media. People of color won’t get vaccinated because you run everything and you have a track record of not being trustworthy.

You want to take the funds Congress designated to help people harmed by the pandemic and use them to build prisons whose populations are disproportionately non-white. You want to further limit the voting rights of people who don’t vote like you do and you don’t see where that’s a problem because you’re white and they’re not.

You think your children will be traumatized by reading the autobiography of Ruby Bridges. You want to fire teachers who dare teach children about our nation’s racist past. You would deny children the right to know the truth about our history because they may see you for what you truly are.

Yes, you have the audacity to believe only you can make things better, when anyone can look around and see what a shitty job you’re doing. I swear, you people could fuck up a wet dream.

I’m done with the whole lot of you and your bullshit. I think instead I’ll keep working in my yard. This morning I helped a cicada who’d gotten stuck in something sticky and damaged his wing. As I worked to release him, he pissed on me. He must be male; no man thinks he needs a woman’s help. I reminded him that help doesn’t always appear helpful as he crawled into the day lilies.

I was visited by a gorgeous moth and she graciously posed for a photo. One of her wings is damaged.

I guess we all are in some respect, even white people.

11 thoughts on “Saturday Morning Thoughts

  1. Trust me all insects, BOTH genders tend to pee when we are touching them or helping them! Even Ladybugs!!
    And maybe that is THEIR way of saying Thanks!? LOL maybe we are reading them all wrong, hehehe,,
    Your last statement sums your entire post up Jen! We ALL are damaged in some way……by that very definition we are all EQUAL. I know you ‘get’ what I’m saying….
    ((hugs)) Sherri-Ellen & **purrss** BellaDharma

  2. I had to look up crepe myrtle. I was wondering how I’d never heard of them till I got to the phrase “cultivated in warmer climates” – that explains it! They look much prettier and more interesting than pine trees!

  3. I live in a red state. But one doesn’t have to live in a southern state to feel the “redness” that seeps ignorance from beneath the “Make America White Again” pawpaw caps. Their anger comes from this example: I stopped after work for early voting in the presidential election. Regular voting puts me in too much direct contact with crowds and I am one of those whose immune system was wacky due to cancer treatments including a bone marrow transplant a few years ago. Where I early vote is north in the parish and just a little removed from a predominantly poor Black area. Just far enough away where anyone living there would need to take a car to get to it and close enough where whites who early vote there will not feel too uncomfortable being around too many from that area. In order to vote by mail, if you work and need a stamp, the post offices close by 4:30pm but there are no stamp machines or self-service machines in any post office on the north end of the parish. When I went to early vote, there was a drizzle of rain but people remained in the line which wrapped around the parking lot, full of mostly folks of color. Even with masks and social distancing there was a llarge number of people for the entire time of EV. The local news showed a line on the other side of the parish. Tent covers were provided for them so they would not get wet in the rain. Still the lines were long at our location–moreso than ever! Every obstacle was placed in the way to discourage voting. My angry white girlfriends who found orange kool-aid repulsive, voted against it in droves. From.the.suburbs. We were not supposed to overcome the obstacles. We did. So we must have cheated. The ‘sorest’ losers in the world are the biggest cheaters– like when I was in 5th grade and the boys played the girls in soccer at recess. They were supposed to win because they are the (good ol’) boys. They began to cheat to keep things the way ‘nature intended.’They didn’t expect us to use the system they set up, follow the guidelines they set up and STILL overcome! Steam arises from the little red pawpaw caps.

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