John Lewis: "When You Pray, Move Your Feet!"

It appears that many have taken these words to heart! Spontaneous crowds (at many airports) formed protesting Trump's latest order to HAULT all Syrian refugees (and others from certain Muslim countries) from coming into US. As Trump moves to make good on many of his campaign promises, the shallow thought that has gone into his orders becomes obvious. He seems to have no ability to account for consequences

to others, nor does he seem to care. PBS debates when to call a lie and lie from the small pursed lips of Donald. 1984 becomes a best seller! And the Chinese year of the Fire Rooster begins. 

Impeach Trump, Convert Pence

There were signs that would have delighted my mom: "Super Callous Fascist Racist Extra Braggadocios!" Today, although I didn't get into my lovely bed until after 1AM, I have hung my apron along with another decorated one in my sight to alert me to put down my cleaver and pick up the phone - call my congressmen. Put down the wooden spoon and pick up the pen. Put off making the pot of beans, or batch of brownies, and send email. Send them every day as Michael Moore advised. 

Resistance is Fertile

More on the Women's March: 750,000 marched in LA, a score in Antartica, thousands thronged the Ann Richardson bridge in Austin (who must be so proud of her daughter Cecil who heads Planned Parenthood), 100's in Gulfport MS and thousands in New Orleans (or course, Mardi Gras opportunity). More and More, sends chills down my arms as I type, and by the tweet of it, Trump is pissed. Oh, petty little hands man. I liked a slogan which I saw in English and in Spanish: Respect Existence or Expect Resistance! 
Here we are again, with our safety rope which was a great hit with the crowd. It did keep us together until a slew of people separated Valen from us, sending Pat after her daughter through the throng. We didn't meet up again until the bus - 1,800 buses all parked at RFK stadium. We had wine waiting for us and cheese and crackers, nuts and apples. We were jubilant. Now to not lose this energy of compassionate awareness. Now to keep a finger on our legislators both state and federal. Now to keep all accountable. Now to register our discontent. Now to  not despair but to act. 

I Have a Vagenda

I am riding the High of the Women's March in DC (over 1/2 a million - 3 million world wide), a recharge to the activist bones, a dispelling of the angst of the day before inauguration, and hilarious fun with good good friends. "I have a Vagenda" was on a sign i missed but was fortunately captured in a blog someone referenced on FB. Some of the signs I did delight in were taking back the "Don't Tread on Me" slogan that the t-party has usurped on bright yellow license plates and flags with the twinning snakes; some women turned the snakes upside down and it looked like a uterus with fallopian tubes. The humor was contagious in all seriousness; we were squashed like sardines, especially intense in the Metro, underground and moving at a snail pace - yet a helpful caring friendly atmosphere. Oh, glorious, magnificent folks!

Preparing for the March on Jan 21st!

We will be marching for Elizabeth as her knees will keep her at home; the rest of us will be in DC on Saturday via a Rally bus.  Kathy Pink and Susan and I spent Monday painting aprons with appropriate messages to wear ( "Pussy grabs back," "Bad Trump," "Grope Protest," "Women Rights = Human Rights," "WTF"). Some of us may even don pink pussy hats! Hope we will help swell the numbers into the 100 thousands. The buses leave at 3:12 AM - maybe we will be able to sleep on the bus, though I wouldn't bet on it and we won't be home until after midnight. But, we have to do it!

Mr Lee with debris of the walk

Good long walk today to the swimming hole. Weather here close to what is forecast for the DC March on the 21st, 60 degrees and overcast. Perfect walking weather, I will plan to wear a light coat and my walking shoes. Spending the day brain storming slogan to wear painted onto an apron for the march - haven't come up with one yet, few days to sleep on project. I will wear my RESIST t-shirt and may just cover the apron with fists of different colors. 

Half a foot of Snow

I went to bed the night of the snow, thinking that we might get 3". Surprised in the morning to see 4" and skies still falling. With cold, frigid cold, due the next night, I shoveled a path to the chicken coop before the bitter wind grew fierce. The chickens, of course, had no curiosity for snow; in spite of my effort to clear a section of their yard.
Saturday temperature hardly reached 20 degrees, Sunday was only slightly higher. Monday promised 30's and rain - but failed to encourage the chickens out and Mr.Lee and I walked only to the mailboxes. I cancelled qigong Tuesday as the schools were closed. Wednesday I picked up Alma and we went grocery shopping in town and I found a whole chicken to roast. Today was spectacular, 60 degrees. Two walks and making chicken soup. Crazy wild temperature swings, so quickly changing.

New Year, to be Year of the Rooster

Yesterday's forecast sun came near noon today, unexpectedly; Mr Lee and I took to the path to the swimming hole eager to see how the river had worked the beach. More sand has been deposited over the slippery clay, a gift. But I grew sad watching Mr Lee on the beach and no Mojo. Home now, with the sky rippling up in preparation of rain (through Monday), I am hanging with melancholy. Though grateful for the good walk setting my pace for the rest of the year. The year I was born was also a Rooster year. I am preparing to stir my bones for dinner in Blacksburg, traditional black-eyed peas and greens; I failed to make it out for last night's celebration. Sinusitis lingers and I am no great fan of New Year's Eve parties. Watched the movie 33, about the Chilean gold miners who were trapped underground for 69 days. 
Here I am in the silence of the hollow. I imagine the squirrel is dangling upside down raiding the sunflower seeds in the bird feeder while I am on this sofa upstairs. The chickens scratch in the larger yard as they were when I last looked out the north facing window in the bathroom, I suspect. I am weighing being late for dinner tonight, so that I can secure their coop before I go, rather than waiting until 8 PM or so. I don't know. 
2017. 50 years since I graduated from Sarah Lawrence! I never imagined this.