Hello, my friends. What a time, eh? While I’d been (and am still to some degree) planning a real cleansing rager in this here space, I’ve also come into a little bit of a soft place as well. Not quite as cuddly as kittens and puppies, but with a level of appreciation for something a bit more heart-felt than the hot fire I’d been planning to focus on only. Initially I was set to climb atop my (imaginary) dragon and set off east toward the pale house on the hill (of lies) to lay waste Daenerys-style to the whole damn pile, but then I paused to realize that if my dragon merely sneezes over this tinder of California that we’ll all go up in flames, soooo I’m living in the real world and trotting out the words instead.

From a pull-back-the-lens perspective, I’ve been heartened (a bit, because you really never ever do know) by hearing that the ladies who bent toward Trump in 2016 are reassessing their stance for 2020. I’m not going to totally chalk this up to a gender intuitive situation, but I do think that women, and especially moms, must see that a bully, sexual assaulter, and liar (the links I’ve included are his actual voice doing and saying those things) are the type of human they would not, I assume, want to raise. I think most women look to bringing strong and kind and wise men into this world, responsible and respectful types of people. Just teaching basic lessons up to and including if you’re ill, stay in your damn room so you don’t spread it around to others. (But apparently there is no one with enough courage to ground the man-child in DC, so off he goes free-range spreading at will.) I’m thinking that the ladies who are now uncomfortable with the kind of meanness he (I could use a derogatory nickname here as he would, but my mom taught me better) exhibits have made plans to go a different and kinder way. And to those women, I say thank you. The one true statement he said yesterday from his Evita-balcony scene at the White House was that this is the most important election of our lifetime. Yes. It is. And clearly when we go to vote, it’s looking at the whole shabang-a-lang of choices from understanding the strength around the VP candidate given the age of both men (which according to a University of Illinois study tells us that Trump being classified as overweight and an infrequent exerciser puts him at a lesser level of health than Biden), along with education around Congressional/Senate candidates. But, really, I’m back to saluting the ladies who are brave enough to to look into their hearts and understand that there is no good in having such a bad moral example at the helm of this country.

• 

And now to the more intimate moments of my ladies! The ones whose moral strength and friendship I bow down to. This morning I received a couple of texts that reminded me how important the women in my life are to me. They run through my system in ways I don’t often acknowledge or even have the words for. Honestly, there may not be words. That whole wind-beneath-my-wings kind of thing. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. This is what I am so grateful for. Strong, fierce women who I’m lucky to know and call friends. (And, okay, I just finished this book, so am riding that as well.) But regardless, even six months into a pandemic and only seeing or talking to my ladies occasionally on various devices, while also sometimes calculating time differences, I still feel their force. And goddammit, if a revolution needs to be acted upon, I know we are strong like that (& I also know there are some damn fine fellas who will join us). I’ve already got my outfit (see post “More Than a Feeling” end of August). So in celebration of the women in my life:

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

•