A Pup's Reach Should Exceed His Grasp

Poor Moose - Roger and I had big beef for dinner.  Very large steaks - we both have about half of ours left over, sitting on a plate over on a TV tray table by Roger.  Moose has climbed up onto Roger's lap, and has obviously treed the steak.  I've tried before to explain to him that he's not a pointer, but he insists on trying. 

At any rate...  He treed the steak.  He pointed out the steak.  He gazed longingly at the steak.  There was a subtle whine about the steak.  Heck, he even let out a very polite bark, just to alert us to the fact that there is steak, damn it!  Steak! 

Sorry, small boy... you had all you're going to get for the night.  Heck, the meat there is approximately the same size as your head... it's really not going to happen.  But hope springs eternal in a doxie breast. 

Memory Well: Dating Rules

I haven't had to think about this for close to 20 years now (Thank whatever deities you choose), but back when I was single, I had a list of basic dating "nevers".  A friend reminded me of them, and I figured I might as well write it down for the edification of whoever comes along after me (no kids to pass this down to, and my goddaughter has managed to find a good man without my advice.  Not, you understand, that I am admitting that she's allowed to date yet.)

I don't know that I can remember them all, but... here goes.

1.  Don't date anyone older than your mother.  I know, seems basic, but remember, mom had me at 17, so it did limit my scope some - but trust me, I never had a daddy fixation, so it worked out ok.

2.  Never date anyone who has to ask his mom for permission.  Or who has a curfew...

3.  Never date anyone who carries an ax in his panel van.  (I did say these were basic, right?)

4.  Never date anyone named Steve.  (Ok, this one is specific to me - but I've dated 3 Steves in my life, and all three were unmitigated disasters.  I've had plenty of friends named Steve, no issue, but dating them apparently turns them into monsters, kind of like feeding a mogwai after midnight.)

5.  Never date anyone who owns more hair products than you do. 

6.  Never date a Republican.  Ok, I broke down on this one, and I'm incredibly glad that I did...  Roger was the best thing to ever happen to me.  But I'm sticking with the other 5 rules. 

Missing Lova and Dewane

I was a lucky girl, growing up. With mom and dad splitting up before I was 3 (I know, I know... we're getting to the lucky part), I ended up spending a lot of time with my maternal grandparents.  I've written some about it, but this meme just brought it home to me how much time and attention that they gave me. 

Grandma taught me a few basics - how to make Parker House rolls, canning, quilting.  But she also gave me a good solid basis in working for a living, serving the community, being a solid partner in everything with Grandpa.  And Grandpa...  he took me with him.  Everywhere.  We went fishing, we went out getting logs, down to the field to take care of the cows, out boating on the reservoir.  He just took me along - no questions, no comment.  I knew that I belonged on this earth and that I was loved for who I was, because these two made sure I knew about it - without ever really telling me so.  There's a powerful amount of confidence you can get from family that accept you - especially when you don't really feel like you fit in other places.  We moved a lot when I was young, but there was always a home to come back to - even if the fit was a bit tight and I knew I'd need to leave again. 

So... it's not so much the physical act of snapping green beans we need to get back to.  But there is a lot of time and attention spent while snapping... that, I miss like crazy.

What's The Difference?

Every post that I've seen on Facebook regarding the potential Groper-In-Chief has had an immediate follow-up - "But what about Bill Clinton?  And Hillary helped! Why aren't you angry at them?"

There are a lot of reasons- Bill's not the one who is running for office, the adultery was consensual, there's no definite proof either way, maybe I'm a flaming hypocrit - but mostly, for me, it's because I'm angry that Trump and his minions just don't get it.  The apology that he gave for the tape was so oblivious as to why it was wrong.  It wasn't the "pussy".  It was the GRAB.  It was the lack of realization that women are human beings, not things.  And he and his supporters have continued on - attack, deny, ridicule (seriously, he's using "look at her, she's an uggo" as a defense?) 

I attempted to talk it out with a niece of mine who is a Trump supporter and posted something about "Women claim sexual abuse to get new furniture".  Tried telling her that I was hurt by that characterization, mentioned my issues... she responded with inaccurate memes about the Clintons and that some women like to be touched. 

Roger has asked me not to engage these people, and I'm trying, but it's hard.  I don't want to know that there are people out there that are using #repealthenineteenth.  I want to be able to respect my friends who are voting for Trump, despite their vote.  But it's getting harder and harder.

When A Man Shows You His True Self - Believe Him

My Facebook feed blew up today with the latest Trump scandal - this one catching him in a "hot mic" moment back in 2005, talking about being able to grab women... well, you can read the news about it.  God knows, it's everywhere.  I found myself thinking "well, we knew that he was like that.  He's done and said a lot of terrible things about women... this isn't going to make a difference." and trying to move past it... and I hit a brick wall.  Well, several brick walls.  From my past.


This isn't going to be a fun post.  You might want to skip it (god knows, I do).  But...  when I was a young girl, my great-grandmother got remarried (well, she eloped - frankly, no one in the family approved) to Grandpa John. Grandpa John was a groper - the kind of guy who would kiss a 7 year old on the lips and use tongue.  He slipped his hand down the back of my pants once, before I learned to always, always keep a piece of furniture between us (so did the rest of the women in my family.  We didn't talk about it, we just learned, and watched out for each other.  That's the way you handled it back in the 70s)  Grandpa John was eventually hospitalized and out of our lives... but he left an invisible mark - the knowledge that my body wasn't mine.  Some guy could just grab and take and there wasn't a lot I could do about it.

There were a few other instances over the years that I'm not willing to go into publicly, but that's the way it was, growing up female back then. There were different coping mechanisms - mine was completely divorcing myself from my body.  I built a brick wall around those memories and refused to look at them  Not the healthiest method, but it worked for me - for long enough to make it through and find friends who could wake me back up, and eventually a man who loved me for myself.

But that damage... that damage affected my growth the way an ax cut can affect a tree.  My life changed because of those men, and I don't think it was for the better.  But I hoped that we were moving away from that sort of thing being acceptable - that girls of today wouldn't have to guard themselves the way I did.  Until now.  Now, we're at the point where 40% of America seems to think that this is an appropriate leader.  Not just that he's not reprehensible, but that he could be our *President*.  How on earth can any woman vote for him?  Hell, how could any man who loves a woman vote for him?  I just don't understand - other than if they are as good at ignoring as I am - but I'm having problems ignoring this now that I've seen it.  I'm going to have to build another wall, I'm afraid.  And if I'm building walls... he wins.