Dispatches from the beach

I can hear the water lapping against the shores of the channel, can feel the breeze whisper against and across my shoulders as I rock slowly on the second floor porch. Some birds perch, others soar, boats and jet skis head home. The sun is setting, moving south as if through multiple filters. It is vivid orange. It is blinding yellow with rays bursting in all directions like a child's drawing. It is muted behind the prism of layers of clouds moving in various directions. Some are utterly static while others race. How is this? How do some freeze in the face of forceful currents?

Last night we celebrated my mother-in-law's 70th birthday, and today, she, my father-in-law, brother- and sister-in-law, and nieces headed home. It was a wonderful week- getting to see the kids together, see them truly love and delight in playing together is a treasure.

yellow cake with whipped chocolate caramel ganache frosting - recipes by apuginthekitchen

My crew decided to stay the day and are glad we did. I had peach apricot pie for breakfast (made this yesterday!), went for a run, we spent a last couple hours on the beach, and saw Wonder Woman. As have many, I cried in several spots, moved by her fierceness, wisdom, compassion, courage, and unabating morality. If only such sorts of people actually led our country right now. If only...

Instead, we have an ignorant, insecure, greedy, lying, fraud in the big seat, and innocent people like Philando Castile are murdered in cold blood for no reason other than their skin color and their killers are set free. This country is not moving forward, and it is utterly disheartening and enraging.

With a wink, a nod, and a clenched fist of hell yeah, I leave you with this. 

Oh no he didn't! Trump, Comey, et al

Except he did. The Evil Yam is mad and pouting and stamping his feet that we, the lowly citizens on whose behalf HE (is supposed to) WORKS, won't let things go.

We continue to push for investigations into Russia's interference with the 2016 presidential election.
We demand an understanding of Trump's relationship with Putin.
We insist on understanding why the FBI Director was suddenly ousted just days after requesting more funding to expand the Russia probe, and on the suggestion of Attorney General, Jeff Sessions, was previously recused himself from this entire investigation.
We refuse to stop until an independent counsel is appointed to continue this investigation. We will not wait until next year. We want and deserve the truth. Now.
We refuse to acknowledge Sarah Huckabee Sanders' pathetic claim that Comey committed atrocities and that America needs to "put this Russia stuff behind us."
We refuse to accept that while hundreds of us protest in front of the White House, the people's house, Trump meets privately with Russian foreign minister, Lavrov, and Ambassador Kislyak (yeah, the one who met with Flynn so often), and allows not the US media but the Russian media inside. Yeah, that happened today.

Mom, who is here for both boys' Grandparents' Days, and I were so pissed after last night's sudden firing of Comey (of whom neither of us are even fans, but come on!) that we decided to head downtown for today's "Comey Fired protest" quickly organized by MoveOn and many others. 

Y'all know that I have, since the Women's March, been to not a few protests, marches, and rallies. I have a library of signs -worn to various degrees by weather and crowd size- in my office, a growing selection of Resistance shirts in my drawer, and my Resistance backpack always at the ready. Most events I've attended have been determined and upbeat; despite the odds, we will persevere. That sort of thing.

The rally in Dupont Circle following Trump's first attempted Muslin Ban was a gathering of fury. We were there, and spirited, but an undercurrent of what-the-fuckness coursed through the crowd.

Today was an energetic gathering of several hundred, but it distinguished itself from the others I've attended with a decidedly depressed air. It did not lack in spirit. Anger. Resistance. Determination.

But the dark cloud of autocracy hung over us, the horrid juxtaposition of the gleaming White House dressed up with bright red flowers and a stunning blue sky with the craven inhabitants clobbering our national integrity and democracy behind curtained windows blocking all possible light. 

Mom was alternately furious and in tears.

"I fought so hard for so much of this decades ago. Why is he taking us back? Back, back, back?"

It was sad and enraging, and my primary reaction was to raise my fist, yell "SHAME!" and determine to keep fighting, keep resisting, do everything I can to preserve the democracy Americans are lucky to enjoy, even when they seem so terribly ignorant of all it offers and promises. It is not perfect, but the places Trump and his soulless, morally bankrupt cronies want to take us? That is an evil darkness like the stifling underdeck of a slave ship. Like a desperate, bleeding woman in a back alley. 

We cannot afford to go there. And so we fight.

"These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."

-Thomas Paine

March for Science DC on Earth Day 2017

Happy Earth Day, everyone! It is chilly, rainy, and totally overcast in DC, but this morning, Jack and I zipped up our raincoats, grabbed my March bag (it's like a having-a-baby bag; packed and at the ready for when it's needed!), and let Tom drop us off at the Metro. 

Jack is such a passionate, curious kid but he has always suffered from a bit of transition inertia. He rarely wants to leave the place he is, but once a gentle pressure (or sometimes more aggressive force) is applied, his ball rolls happily to the next spot. Such was the case in getting him to the Metro. 

As we descended the cool concrete steps of the Friendship Heights stop, I saw his pace quicken slightly. Once on board the train, surrounded by marchers wearing spirited shirts and knit earth hats and carrying clever signs, he became totally excited. 

Jack loves math and science. They are for him what writing and language are for me, the fires that burn and excite deeply. He dreams of being a great scientist, and I want to teach him that a healthy democracy requires staying informed and participating regularly. Today's March for Science seemed like an excellent way to spend time together, support my parental goal, and help him see in an up-close-and-personal fashion just how great, engaged, and expansive the scientific community is. He also really wanted to see Bill Nye speak.

As we walked from the Metro Center stop towards the Mall, vendors sold buttons and t-shirts, environmental groups gave out posters, the crowd grew larger, and the rain fell harder. We were wholly undeterred. After a brief stop by the African American History & Culture Museum for some buttons and a warm pretzel, we joined the security line where we made fast friends with a toddler astronaut whose clever parents had turned his wagon into a spaceship. 

Once inside the rally space, we milled about appreciating the many hysterical and smart signs people had made, eyeing the offerings at the science teach-in and #poetsforscience tents, and finding out way as close to the mainstage as possible. Questlove was the MC, and the roster of speakers was vast. 

My friend, Ellen, made the poster I'm holding. Snappy, huh!

A documentary crew asked if they could film Jack and me and our signs. We also got to meet and be photographed with Congressman Bill Foster from Illinois' 11th congressional district. Jack thought all of this was extremely cool. 

After a few hours of dropping temperatures, my shorts-clad boy appeared to be freezing and turning blue, so we called it a day and headed home (we did not get to see Bill Nye but Jack said he was "ok with it. He graduated from my school. That's really cool."). It was a special morning for us, and I was thrilled with the turnout and spirit of the marchers, in DC and at all the more than 570 satellite marches across the US and the world. 

Science is real. Facts matter. Alternative facts are lies. This earth is the only mother we have. There is no Planet B. #resist

(All photos mine except for the dog/cat which comes courtesy of Mark Cuban.)