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Month: June 2018

Of f-bombs, betrayals, doubleplusungoodspeak, and general ruminations

It’s a hot, lazy weekend. Well, maybe not lazy; but the kind of weekend more suited to chopping blackberry canes out of the camellia bushes than to sitting at the computer. So here are a few random ruminations that have crossed my mind while I’ve been out in the yard this weekend. Doubleplusungoodspeak Tolerance = bigotry Diversity = sameness Rights = privileges provided by the many to the few Racism = people of pale persuasion believing they have rights, too Freedom = the ability to intimidate and silence opponents And we all carry around our personal telescreens to make sure…

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That may have been the most alarming doctor visit I ever had

… but not for any dire reasons you might imagine. Good news: The doctor says there’s absolutely nothing wrong with me. Bad news: I’ve gradually, reluctantly, and (as of yesterday) angrily concluded there’s something seriously wrong with the doctor. Surprise: the test results looked good. But in answer to, “Then why am I having these symptoms?” her response was, in rote, rapid-fire delivery: “Maybe you just need to get more sleep, and an average woman should drink two liters of water a day, and be sure to eat three healthy meals every day with healthy snacks in between. And keep…

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Not much blogitude today. Some links, though.

First it’s off to the doctor to get results of last week’s tests. Then I spend the rest of the day repaying a friend for an even bigger favor she did me last year. So I leave you with a few links and will probably have more to say tomorrow. Judge imposes a restraining order on Deerfield, IL. No draconian gun ban — for now. Outcome depends on lawsuits. (Tip o’ hat to M. in comments) Via Borepatch: Why cars with autopilot keep slamming into large stationary objects. They’re designed that way. Maybe there’s hope for a fee-for-privacy online option…

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Woman cave; or moving furniture as an antidote to grief

Sometimes, when there’s nothing you can do about the troubles of the world or the terrible sufferings of a friend, you just get busy. The sunroom has been an art room since last year. But I’ve been neglecting art (again) and I’ve missed being able to sit peacefully in the best corner of the house. Keeping grief at bay, I resorted to that time-honored female remedy of cleaning house and shoving furniture around. I recreated the sunroom as my woman cave, while at the same time stripping the kitchen down to clean minimalism. This is where I’ve been most of…

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Monday links

  • This is a new writer to watch. Coleman Hughes (a black man), excoriates Black Privilege. (H/T CX)
  • Two deaths: Gena Turgel who survived four concentration camps and nursed the dying Anne Frank; and Jerry Maren, member of the Lollipop Guild. (H/T BD)
  • The poor, poor baby “didn’t have to die”? ‘Scuse me, Mom, but your 23-year-old “baby’s” death was on her own head the moment she decided to invade someone else’s residence. 2 Comments
  • Worked all day in the rain, but it was worth it.

    Long day. Long, soggy day. The Wandering Monk and I worked outside in a steady rain for five hours, but it was so very worth it. I now have a back deck — hooray! First (yesterday), he removed the temp porch and steps that had served me very well, but served with extreme ugliness. That revealed even more ugliness, which didn’t bode well. For a change, we lucked out. Nearly all the rot and rubble was on the surface, not under the house. The Monk tore that stuff off, then managed to take just a hair over an hour to…

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