It's been a long silence. As I told my sister-in-law recently, I haven’t felt much like writing. There’s almost too much to write about. Julia Cameron recommends writing stream of consciousness “morning pages” each day. I don’t live that kind of life right now, but I wish I did. I do feel the need from some good stream of consciousness writing, liquid Drano for the mind. Just unclog the pipe.

There’s the election. I don’t even want to get into it. I am deeply distressed about where we’re headed. Get on in the handbasket. Yet thoughtful people whom I care about deeply are pleased as punch. Go figure. The online community is toxic right now. (Blue staters are worthless elitists who lost, get over it; red staters are hopeless yokels who believe a less than 3-point margin gives them a mandate. Blah blah blah.) Of course, here I am, online. Don’t bother pointing out the hypocrisy.

Part of me wants to rage along with everyone else and part of me is just tired of it. What’s most irritating is that this election has been framed a certain way, and I (and many like me) don’t fit into the frame. People who don’t go to church vote Democratic. People who go to church weekly vote Republican. Secular left and religious right. Where is the religious left? Moral values, moral values… Can’t we on the left find a way to talk about moral values in a way that’s not preachy and exclusionary? Surely we can. What is moral about a child without health insurance in the richest country in the world? What is moral about massaging the facts to make a case for war? Tolerance and choice are moral values.

Well, so much for not getting into the election.

I could write about our recent trip back home for our 10-year college reunion. I wish more people had come, but it was a great weekend. We talked semi-seriously about moving back, because the weather was perfect enough that we almost forgot that it’s the smoggiest city in the country. Almost. I do like living somewhere with actual seasons now, but there’s something delightful about being able to go the zoo in shorts on Christmas day.

Let’s see, I could write about visiting the bench in the park that is dedicated to my dad’s memory, and how perfect the view is from there, and how my rather introverted husband was willing to shoo away (nicely) a group of people who were sitting on it so I could have a moment to myself. It was the only bench in the vicinity that even had anyone near it. This is both quite fitting, and profoundly irritating. Apparently Dad did not like cemeteries, but at least in a cemetery you can go there without worrying about people being in “your space.” The park is not a very private place to grieve, but you can cry behind your sunglasses and few people will notice. The benches in this park have an armrest in the middle. It’s to keep people from sleeping there, but it also means that you can’t sit in the center of the bench. You have to sit to the side, as if someone is sitting there with you. Nice.

How about some stories about little she-who-is, now 21 months old? Her G-mommy visited a few weeks ago and bought her some hats at the vintage clothing store. One is a brown pillbox hat with a short fishnet veil. It fits her perfectly, and matches a velveteen dress with coordinated tights that G-mommy also bought her. They got some pictures made at Picture People in this hilarious getup. C cried for the photos but there’s a great one of her smiling with a little tear sparkling in the corner of her eye. My husband offered to PhotoShop it out. No he will NOT do that!

C also told her first joke the other day. I wasn’t here (damn church schedule!). She was flinging around some pizza, and hubby corrected her. A few minutes later in his peripheral vision he saw her fling again. She looked all around as if to say, “Where did it go?” Meanwhile she is keeping her mouth very still. She turns back around, and opens her mouth. The pizza was inside. I guess it’s more of a magic trick than a joke, a variation on the quarter-from-behind-the-ear trick.

She has also graduated to sentences. She told a whole story recounting our recent trip.
C: Airport.
Me: Yes, we went to the airport.
C: ‘Side airplane.
Me: Yes, we went inside the airplane.
C: No kick.
Me: That's right, no kicking the chair in front of you.
C: Night-night airplane.
Me: Yes, you took a nap on the airplane!
C: Up up up, down down down. Bye-bye.

Me: Bye-bye.