I am just utterly undone by this day. Grieving parents, traumatized, wounded and dead children, some as young as 14. 14!!! I have a grandson who’s 14. The horror of it is hard for us to imagine. I mean, it’s horrifying enough to see this on the news, but to actually have to live it…sadly, before the year, hell, the month, there will be more families and communities living that nightmare. Just tonight on the evening news, there was a kid in Washington State who was planning a mass school shooting. His grandmother snooped in his journals and turned him in, saving many, as one entry said he wanted as many casualties as possible.
These are not isolated cases. How many more are out there, right now, plotting and planning, gathering ammo and military weapons? Weapons non military people do not need. And please, spare me the tired trope that you just might have to defend your family against the government. Oh please. They could take you out from miles away, and you’d never see it coming. I’m just sick and tired of the violence, the hate, the politicians’ same old tired and pathetic “thoughts & prayers” routine, while they take blood money from the NRA.
We need common sense gun regulations that close loopholes. And did you know about “ghost guns”? Like the bump stock, legal to buy. Better screening for mental health issues, like, maybe have a shared database between agencies. Required training, testing, periodic renewals of training and permit/license. Oh, too intrusive? Tell it to the BMV, who require just such things. I’m just so damn weary of it, the senselessness, the horror, the blood of children.
On the home front, Dearest is sicker than a dog. Coughing, sneezing, hurting all over, low grade fever, been in bed all day. Made a small pot of chicken noodle soup (with plenty of garlic), and he ate a bite or two, then drank the broth, took cold meds and went to bed. These crazy weather fronts are playing havoc with my tendons and joints, especially my knee, back and right foot.
A lady with a little girl knocked on the door while I was cooking dinner, she’d run out of gas, and had walked about a quarter mile along the highway. We had some in a can, so I took her to her truck, put the gas in, absolutely refused money. Told her the best way to pay me back was to pay it forward when she could.
Ran back to the house, checked on the soup, and went to get the mail. As I was coming back across the highway, a car passed, then turned around. They, two little old ladies, pulled over in the drive, and asked me how to get to Highway 37. After giving them directions and they drove off, I went back in, finished up the soup, and finally sat down, in my jammies, to eat.
It felt good to help folks out, a bright spot in a couple of shitty and really trying days. Still, it’s hard to not feel discouraged and ineffectual in the face of the atrocities of the last two days. But it’s what we do. We go on. One foot in front of the other.
And we do what we can.