Fourth
Totally irrelevant to my rest of life, yesterday we spent the morning at Malinda's house sorting through dozens of boxes that, in our 2014 rush to vacate The Old Place as the house sale closing drew nearer, were moved from the huge walk-in attic that had become a nightmare storage room, and from my office/study/den, to a bedroom on Malinda's ground floor level. From the sorting, which is now about half completed, we came home with one box of special memories so far, to fall in overwhelming exhaustion into long afternoon nap.
The sorting and deciding is necessary because medics have decreed that Malinda must never again live alone; so Ray, Britany and Lilly, along with their dog, are moving in with Malinda. The house is three-level with plenty of room for this family togetherness to happen in relative peace and tranquillity if everyone understands mutual expectations ahead of time.
After a deep sleep exhaustion nap of several hours my mind returned to thoughts of automobiles, specifically that one can rent (hire) a Morgan sportscar and drive it all over France, an appealing proposition if I were 42 or 52 instead of 82, and if I wanted to go to France in the first place.
But I've read, and members of my family have experienced, that the French do not like Americans; understandably so, neither do I, but which I googled asking why. Then this morning I googled whether, with the languages being so different including their origins, English and French are at base the same ethnicity, race. So far I've not found a clear statement on either question, but my search wandered off into being English v. British in one's self-understanding, itself a fascinating path to escape down, and the English,
Scottish and Irish national flag crosses of St George, St Andrew and St Patrick represented in the Union Jack v the St George Cross of England, but for historic reasons Wales not represented at all. Why down these paths IDK except that all my growing up years and well into maturity I believed my family heritage was English, only in my closing years finding out, to my consternation, about Andreas Wäller migrating from what is now Germany to New England in the 1700s. But here I am, now as American as the English Weller families.
Now browsing Facebook this morning, Linda shows me a campaign ad billboard that
speaks the unspeakable basis of our national divide that, racism's hatred ever deepening and being fanned by government and other evil forces, eventually will bring down e pluribus unum, down just as every other once powerful nation has in its Time collapsed into history. Who thinks this will not happen to America, your history book is too short. With government reflecting national character, we are becoming, becoming. The becoming will continue such that only the blind think that, because the Constitution calls for it, there will be a national election in 2024. This Fourth we are where our Founding Fathers tried to save us from the becoming.
The sorting and deciding is necessary because medics have decreed that Malinda must never again live alone; so Ray, Britany and Lilly, along with their dog, are moving in with Malinda. The house is three-level with plenty of room for this family togetherness to happen in relative peace and tranquillity if everyone understands mutual expectations ahead of time.
After a deep sleep exhaustion nap of several hours my mind returned to thoughts of automobiles, specifically that one can rent (hire) a Morgan sportscar and drive it all over France, an appealing proposition if I were 42 or 52 instead of 82, and if I wanted to go to France in the first place.
But I've read, and members of my family have experienced, that the French do not like Americans; understandably so, neither do I, but which I googled asking why. Then this morning I googled whether, with the languages being so different including their origins, English and French are at base the same ethnicity, race. So far I've not found a clear statement on either question, but my search wandered off into being English v. British in one's self-understanding, itself a fascinating path to escape down, and the English,
Scottish and Irish national flag crosses of St George, St Andrew and St Patrick represented in the Union Jack v the St George Cross of England, but for historic reasons Wales not represented at all. Why down these paths IDK except that all my growing up years and well into maturity I believed my family heritage was English, only in my closing years finding out, to my consternation, about Andreas Wäller migrating from what is now Germany to New England in the 1700s. But here I am, now as American as the English Weller families.
Now browsing Facebook this morning, Linda shows me a campaign ad billboard that
speaks the unspeakable basis of our national divide that, racism's hatred ever deepening and being fanned by government and other evil forces, eventually will bring down e pluribus unum, down just as every other once powerful nation has in its Time collapsed into history. Who thinks this will not happen to America, your history book is too short. With government reflecting national character, we are becoming, becoming. The becoming will continue such that only the blind think that, because the Constitution calls for it, there will be a national election in 2024. This Fourth we are where our Founding Fathers tried to save us from the becoming.