It’s been just a year since the Women’s March in January, 2017. During that year I decided to run for office, knocked on doors, crafted policy statements, and was elected to local office. That’s my story. Behind other doors lay other stories: of sexual assault, harassment, mansplaining and diminishment, and every shape and form of bad behavior, policy, and pattern that necessitated the need for a woman’s march. We lived through the MeToo movement, and now Time’s Up. Through it all we relived our past and present pain, and wanted to believe that this year would be the one when it would end. Continue reading
My readers probably know that since last year’s election, I have become a bit of an activist. There are so many things to protest, where is a woman to start? Women’s issues, healthcare, financial regulations, voter’s rights, jobs, taxes, the environment . . . and so it goes. In March I met with a few friends and made a suggestion: we should hold our own march. I’m not sure at the time that they believed it would happen, but it did. With the tremendous support of my husband and a few good friends, we pulled it off. And so was born the Climate March Pottstown. Continue reading
I just got back from visiting my parents in New England. My father has severe dementia and barely recognizes me, and my mother is becoming more frail and declining cognitively. When I get a phone call from the assisted living facility where they live it usually means that something is wrong. Lately it’s been my mother. She had been in the hospital after a fall and was going to a rehabilitation center. I had to convince her to go, so I wanted to go and provide my support. I try to make the drive without stopping often; one stop usually does it for me. I fill up the gas tank, hit the bathroom, and grab a drink or a snack. On this trip I was nearly out of gas when I saw a sign for Newtown/Sandy Hook. I can’t explain exactly why that had such an impact on me, but it did. I pulled off the highway. After filling up with gas, I headed down the road to see the school. Continue reading
Larry and I got back from vacation a few days ago. While we are still recovering from jet lag, we jumped back into our lives. The dogs need to be walked, and laundry awaits. As I listen to the wind outside and watch the temperature drop, I remember the warm breezes of the Big Island of Hawai’i. This was our first time in Hawai’i and we decided to get a bit off the beaten path. No beaches for us. On the Big Island we were greeted by highly changeable weather and micro-climates, and found common ground with the people we met, both tourists and residents. The population is diverse. Native Hawaiians live beside mainland transplants looking for warmer climes, descendants of Chinese and Japanese immigrants, and every other race and creed. We learned that Hawaiians are not shy about expressing their opinions. They were enthusiastic participants in the Women’s March on Washington in Kona. I think this may have been the last Women’s March in the world. We joined in, and my pussyhat came along for the ride. Continue reading
As you know by now I have a vegetable garden. I also have a large backyard, something I have never had in the past. This time of year it’s a lot of physical work. Where to start? What are my priorities? How do I overcome obstacles? To make a long story short, last week I came down with some bad poison ivy. It started on my face with a swollen eye, and slowly broke out all over the rest of my body. Each day was a new surprise: my torso, the back of my legs, my back. The doctor had a miracle cure called Prednisone. I’d like to invoke another analogy in this post about our presidential race. Sometimes when I read the news it feels like a poison is spreading all over our country. We are told to hate, to fear, to fight back, and to mistrust. This too is popping up just when you least expect it. The cure is more complicated than a daily pill. Continue reading
Last month a larger and more enthusiastic book group met at my local library. The two person book group had grown with the addition of most of the knit group and a few others into a fourteen person group with standing room only. We read “All the Light We Cannot See.” For anyone who hasn’t yet read it, I highly recommend it. Yes, it’s about Nazi Germany, but it’s also about the strength of the human spirit and relationships and the will to survive. The book is redolent with metaphors, starting and ending with the title. The hero is a blind French girl. The story mostly takes place when the Germans are occupying France and imposing their brutal will on the population. Not much light, eh? Yet, the book is full of hope. The young French girl, Marie-Laure shows everyone around her that she sees everything, even without eyesight. Continue reading
I thought I would end my three days of quotes by skipping ahead two hundred years to the 21st century and our current First Lady.