Sidetracked Charley

The Sangre de Cristos   I drove to the market yesterday for avocados. It was Thursday before the Memorial Day invasion. The tourist season comes on Harley Davidson motorcycles decked out in their leathers. Supposedly they are "celebrating" a war I marched to end. I usually just hide away in my Black Lake home and try to shut my ears as they roar down Hwy 434. The rest of the tourist season will be quieter but also not welcome. This year I feel like a tourist. I have just returned from exile in neighboring Eagle Nest. I have been an evacuee for 12 days. I have been glad to be back in Black Lake on the land I love but it has not yet felt like home. I feel like a cat on a hot tin roof. Thicke, my cat, has settled in better than me. I stand in my studio and pace trying to figure what to do next. I come up with a plan to unpack this or rearrange that. Move a few things then abandon it.  I had planned to go to Taos and stock up with groceries for the invasion, and go by Ace Hardwar...

I think the alertness necessary for resistance is tiring. It seems so little to do in the grand scheme of things: Get up and log into the computer, review the latest news, visit my on line resistance group, check email for Indivisible battle plan, dash off emails to elected officials, share important info. Usually takes only about an hour but in an hour I am so angry I have to begin the day again with comedy YouTube to lighten my mood. I feel good I have done something to resist how things are going. Then the news hits about something dumb Trump has done or how the congress has voted. Today it was that congress said coal companies can dump their slag in the rivers which provide us drinking water. And I cry. But what I am most angry at this morning are those who want to make social media fun again. I have been instructing them how they can stay away from the political news feed. My guess is they voted for DT and don't want to know what he has done just now. They are ostriche...