Monday after shit show

Good morning! A new week! One in which I shall focus my attention away from the Elise Stefaniks of the world (calling for unity. My gawd) and turn it toward the business of getting on with things closer to home.

Today: a doctor appt scheduled; phone list printed to glue to 2021 calendar (I’m analog that way).

Week 2 image of #pariscollagecollective printed out. Play begun. See below.

It’s the day I clean the downstairs bathroom.

Delivered a late Christmas gift while out with Finn and groceries arriving any minute, so: clean a fridge shelf or two.

Prep for writing session tomorrow. Write. Cut paper and move it around. Make dinner.

Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?

Definitely having a better day than this little guy — who might’ve emerged from that pipe. He’s been there for months and I only know about him because of Finn.

PCC Week Two image above prompting questions. Where are you from? Who was your mother’s mother? Has your genetic legacy propelled you or snagged you and where and how and who IS that guy?

And lastly, because we are all learning, and in some arenas with no small sense of urgency, I leave you with a topical new (to me) word learned on Twitter from Ibram X. Kendi.

He referred to trump’s army’s goals as REVANCHIST.

PS I want to emulate Hazel’s blog a little. She does lovely artwork and intersperses them with a little bit of text, so that the text and the paintings resonate off of each other.

PPS I very much relate to the recent mood over on Jude’s blog. A disorientation to time. A wondering about the value of words. The enticing draw of retreat. And yet, another day!