Somnolence and Silence

The weekend started with rain and has continued with same since…a blessing, true – but a damp one that makes it harder to remain at work, chores to do, dogs to walk, and food of some kind to prepare. I remained abed until and unheard of 9am! The quiet symphony of soft rain a lullaby…

I wish for one of those long porches, set deep under the roofline, with a bed to nap on. I do love to sleep with the wind blowing over me. But the small porch is a tight confine and not suitable to that sort of dreaming.

Ranger came along on a brief drive today, his nose to the wind, his eyes blinking against the rain. The poor cotton field, half harvested, lay in a drenched mess and I wonder at the loss – will it recover in the sun, poof up even more? Or are those acres a loss? I felt a kind of sympathy – as any gardener might – at the thought of so much work and cost going to waste.

It put me in mind, too, of the local farmers market and the gentleman who sold me the steaks and rashers – pork belly it said. Not really a smoked bacon at all but more like tender strips of deliciously fatted loin…the cattle here are all heading to market to make whatever money can be had. Is he hardened now at the repetition of it? The flux of a market that is so much at the whim of weather and soil? Does he wonder at how he wound up at a small town farmers market with a half dozen other booths, hoping to make something like enough till next year? A part of me wanted to converse – see what good we might be able to do for each other in the hard days to come. But I let it go at spending my budget with him. More and more do I help the locals, buy near home rather than away.

The news…what to make of it? How to find the value in lives lost to a people that refuse enlightenment? That CHOOSE dark ages and the mores thereof? Oh, they’ll embrace plumbing readily enough but the concept of freedom? You might as well argue with the dog.

I was furious over the constant updates, each new fire adding fuel to my own. So on 9/11 we don’t harden every single middle east facility against just such a thing? We send too few defenders there and ensure their execution? It was never about some obscure video whose timing was so fucking wag the dog as to be laughable. And they release the maker with a tra la la and we don’t know where he is. Yes, yes…I am sure you did. Some plastic surgery, a new name, and it is all done. The fires are set, the pressure to strike locally is enhanced, the lackluster response the signal needed and awaited…

Guess what your October surprise might be and stay away from any large gatherings – that my advice to you. I guess it’s time to get that collapsible .223 for the vehicle. Any more magazines for my .45 and I won’t be able to carry my purse. But I need to revisit the emergency kit – proper pants and belt, check the boots and socks…

I’d always said you’ll be lucky to get to vote this time…I believe that more than ever. And a part of me no longer cares. They’ll set something off somewhere and the cord of communion will be cut. Your life won’t be worth a dime.

Here – a little preview. Just imagine, instead, that they all need to get out of town and are very hungry. Not drunk, not partying and happy and utterly not giving a shit about your private property – not just riled up. But truly a mob looking for any solution and you stumble upon it.

Well, it IS change, anyway. Hopeless, sure. But change…

2 responses to “Somnolence and Silence

  1. B, you know that if ever the need arises, you will be the first call…

    I wish that was my porch – it is my dream hacienda – which I may just have to build myself. LOL I can stack rock.

    Stay safe…

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