I'm also reflecting that too much of what I'm exposed to right now is getting me down, and I need to cut back on the doom'n'gloom reading to balance events out. To wit: the relationship with the neighbor kids across the street is turning somewhat toxic, so it looks like there won't be too many playdates between them and the Banshees anymore. Agh. (That whole situation triggers my Almighty Judgment Complex, something that I try very, very hard to stuff in a small hole and fumigate to mitigate -- but it insists on finding escape routes and never really goes away.) I hate conflict. I hate it. It may be a lovely chance to teach the Banshees about which situations they can handle and which ones I have a right to insist on adult intervention on, but I still loathe, despise, and would do almost anything (except neglect the Banshees) to get out of dealing with conflict.
An acquaintance has recently decided to get out of an organization she's been with for just over three ages of a long-lived cat, and she's done it with a dazzling fireworks display. Which is worrisome; temper or not the woman's got the patience of Job and integrity up the wazoo so if she says there's something wrong there is something wrong. It appears she's gone into heavy seclusion. I'm going to miss her. It makes me question my ties with the organization and how deeply I want to be involved with it -- of course, the frustrating part is everybody who knows the true and bloody details is barred by a confidentiality agreement from discussing those details. It might not be a big deal, exposed to the clear light of day, but since it's never going to be out in the open it's going to be twice as big as Godzilla and very much uglier in the back of my admittedly fertile and febrile imagination.
Good friends are getting divorced. That ALWAYS sucks, even if it's the only viable solution.
The economy sucks, the political situation sucks, airline travel sucks -- especially if your plane doesn't stay in one piece -- and lately I've been reminded constantly that there are loud, vociferous, and violent people who believe that they can do my thinking for me much better than I could ever hope to. You see, the laws of the United States of America don't apply to them as long as they have their firm belief that God alone holds them righteous and a good supply of ammunition to back it up.
I need to take pictures of fluffy feathery ping-pong balls. I need to post a photo of the not-quite-two-month-old gosling with the ducks he's very nearly larger than already. I need to admire the annoying wild mustard in the front yard; it has a tap-root that goes down to New Zealand but it surely is pretty when it blooms. The bills are paid and there's money left over and for once I'm not being stupid about spending it. I need to hold the Banshees close and know that right here, right now, they are all safe and sound.