Facebook, Politics and Sad Sacks who Just Don't Get It

• I am a political junkie with a considerable conservative bend.
• I am a prolific reader of things political.  I love the study of politics and politicking.
• I am a person who is firm in their political foundation with the chops and will to back it up.
• I would say I'm fairly erudite when it comes to language and its use.
• I am also a realist.

In this past election, I voted for Donald Trump.  I voted for the agenda he was promoting, not the man himself.

While Left Brain finds his tweets unnecessary and often cringe-worthy, I find them "guy next door who has just had enough-ish" and laugh at them.  They provoke immediate reaction from the reactionaries he wants reaction from (phew...now that was a sentence) and that, after all, is what he is after nine times out of ten.

My main objectives in voting for Mr. Trump were:

Build that Wall

Save the SCOTUS

and by golly, do make America greater again.

So far, the SCOTUS has been saved from liberal domination, prototypes for the wall being brought about with talks of how to make others eventually pay for said wall...and by golly, America is on its way to being even better.

Trumps foreign policy beats his predecessor's, hands down, and if you take the time to read, or look about you, while foreign leaders may not like him, they know he carries a big stick and means what he says when it comes to America coming FIRST.  We should also take into account that not only is illegal immigration down by 70% but we now also have illegals going back to Mexico.

I consider this a win.  So...by and large, this president is doing what I voted for him to do.

I am often posting on my Facebook page in regard to politics and my own views on politics or the political doings of the day.  I am on several groups pages on Facebook that discuss such things and share funny memes that I am often found sharing.

Sometimes a friend of the leftist ilk will stroll onto my page and take exception to my view on something that I've shared.  I welcome the interaction.  I also never shy away with calling 'baloney' on their views when they are without merit, out-and-out erroneous or lacking fact.  This, of late, has caused some consternation for those leftist friends.

I think they see it this way, "She (me) wrote something I don't agree with or like, so I will now go tell her that and perhaps why...and that will be the end of it."  I see it this way, "the debate is on."  The problem for me is that the leftists in my circle, for the most part, debate in talking points and haven't the real background information to back up what they've avowed.

I liken it to my discussions with Left Brain about his Catholic upbringing.

Left Brain was raised in a large Catholic family, lived in a Catholic community, went to Catholic schools and knows all the things he is to repeat, the format of the service and all the symbolism, but for the life of him doesn't know is WHY Catholics do them or WHERE these things came from.

If I ask him why the Catholics believe this, that or the other, and where in the Bible these things are found...he can't tell me.  In fact, he doesn't even know the simplest of Biblical stories.  It seems Catholics also learn a great deal how to say or do something, about symbolism and purpose without understanding why, how, or where these ideas and ideals come from while protestants are encouraged to get into the Bible and study the history as well as the "meat and taters" of the why's, how's and where's in the scripture.

Leftists (in my circle) seem to know all the talking points without having salient knowledge of the how, why, or where of the matter at hand.  When they toss out things like, 'Trump promised this, that and the other and has yet (in his 5 months in office) to bring to fruition any of those promises" (something they would not know had they not garnered it from the zombie media) and you counter with a mammoth list of all the things their president of choice (Obama) promised and never brought to fruition, it stymies them.

Then they take one of the following tacts:

1.   Should other conservative friends of yours enter the debate as well, you then all become "haters."
2.  They attack your person.  "no one likes you,"  "you are ignorant,"  "why do you pick on me?"
3.  They quietly sink into the abyss never to venture to your page again, or ignore your political ramblings.

An interesting side note to this is ... should they post something on their Facebook page that you take exception to and post rebuttal to, and their friends call you all manner of things, it is all good.  Of course their friends are not now, and could never be, haters... that distinction is saved for you and your friends...their friends are just trying to get you to understand their view.  This double standard is something I actually find laughable.

A few months ago, a leftist acquaintance took exception to something I posted on my own page and came on with rebuttal, knowing my penchant for parsing such things.  You see, politics is to me what sports are to others.  When I did not just let her post sit there as "just her opinion," but rather posted a rebuttal and cited the reasons why...she became upset.

In her world, when she posts on your page you are to nod, and say "I SEE" sing Kum Bi Ya, and go on your merry way.  Just the week prior I had posted on her page about something I did not agree with her about and her friends attacked en masse.  I don't care about that as I can take care of myself, but that she can't see the dichotomy of the thing confuddles the dickens out of me.

Recently I had a 59 year old, sad sack, welfare living, n'er do well of a pot-head I went to High School with let me know that he thought I was a piece of sh*t that had been blocked by everyone he knew.  He asked why I kept picking on him (note, he says picking on him, I say had a differing opinion) and then asked if I "picked on him" because he had not asked me to prom!  All this because I had a favorable view of the border wall and the wherewithal to post a substantive rebuttal to his post on a mutual friend's Facebook page.

When this type of thing happens my brain goes into hyper-drive.  This male called me unintelligent and misspelled it.  He called me a piece of sh*t that was low class, not realizing that calling me that for my opinion is the epitome of low class.  The comment about prom gave me bad dreams because he truly is, and was, loathsome so best we skip the rumination on that one...but suffice it to say, he went on the attack.  I then look at his grammar, syntax errors and poor spelling and wonder at the validity of my High School diploma.  Looks like they just pushed some people through, but that is a story for a different time.

Left Brain gets upset when people like the pothead start calling me names.  His one goal at that point is to not only protect me but to annihilate them.  Luckily, the trash took itself out (blocked me) and the whole debate disappeared from view or Left Brain would have spanked him so hard his mama would have cried.

I think we would all be best served to remember the following:

• Facebook is a public forum, ie a free-for-all.
• One can disagree adamantly, without being a hater.
• Reason before you react and we'll all get along just fine.
• If you can't dazzle them with political brilliance, baffle them with political bullsh*t, doesn't always work.
• If you post it, they will come.

and last but not least

• If you are not ready, prepared, capable or have no background knowledge of what you speak, perhaps it is best to mosey on down to the "if you were a gangster, what gangster would you be" type quiz posts...it will be much safer that way :)

Things I Like About my Husband

I  was thinking about this the other day and pondering how that some of the things I'd list on a post about things I like about my husband would make him blush.

Because I like my husband, I'll leave those out, perhaps whispering them to him in private so I can actually watch him blush.

Yes, I love to make my husband blush.   I also like to poke him.  He loves the former and isn't so fond of the latter.

Left Brain is more often than not a great source of amusement, bemusement and 'confusement' for me and you know...I kind of like all three!

I love to flirt with him.  I flirt with him all the time.  I like that when I do he will raise one brow in the way only he can and smile a smile that lets me know he is enjoying it.  He too loves to flirt and tease and well...he's darn good at it.  When it comes to having a man who knows how to pitch woo...that man is the valedictorian.  His voice, sometimes low and rumbly, causes me to blush and since I'd never had that before, it is almost as intoxicating as it is addicting!

His voice is sometimes so low when I am against him I can feel it vibrate through me.  This is lovely, especially so when I am scared or ill.  It calms and it eases my fear.  When he is holding me and talking low and masculine about things romantic it gives me butterflies and goosebumps.  I love the low rumble and timber of his voice.

I love the bark of his laughter when something truly tickles him.  It is loud.  It is sharp.  It is an attention-getter, but it is REAL.

I love the way he sits forward in a chair when engrossed in a conversation he finds invigorating or a show or sporting event that he is really getting into.

I love how he loves to watch me seat dance in the car when we are on trips.  Me singing along dancing and just loving the music.  When I change the words to make the song a bit bawdy and all about him, he chuckles, blushes, or sometimes says "you are something."

Yes, I am...because he makes me happy.

I love his use of language.  Voluptuary, phalanx, bucolic, inclement...no one else in my world uses these words with such ease.  I laugh at the the way he says Chicago.  Chi cog oah...I don't know why but I love when he says it.  My son hears it as I do...Left Brain thinks it the proper way, after all he is from there, but seriously, it is said with such love and such enunciation that it catches people's ear.

I love how he has friendships with people I would never have thought he would befriend.  A jeweler at a store he happened to frequent...a guy that works in a hardware store...a older farmer...he is no respecter of persons.  He takes as he finds.  He gives back in like manner.

I love the bromances that crop up anytime we are at a sporting event.  Left Brain is not too fond of my view that he is a sport savant, but (ahem) he is.  It happens wherever we go to watch sporting events, be it Chicago or Detroit.  I mean, when the attendants at ballparks seek him out for a jaw-a-thon on something to do with his team, he can quote it chapter and verse, stats, personal information, if they published player's social security numbers, he have those all down too.  We even had a sports fan that was so in awe of Left Brain's knowledge say, "lady if you aren't going to marry him...I will!"

My husband's admiration and deep appreciation for the military and those who serve is profound.  He doesn't just say "thank you for your service," from the deepest pocket in his soul, he means it.  Those he speaks to know it, they can feel it.  He never stops there, he asks where they served and because he is also very knowledgeable in military history, he can carry on a very real conversation about where they served, what happened there.  I am so proud of him in this.

Left Brain is an excellent grandfather to our grandchildren.  He married into these grandchildren, having had no children of his own, but he loves them dearly.  I am somewhat saddened the the oddities in my own family will keep him from being called "Grandfather" by our grandchildren, but no matter that they call him grandfather or not...grandfather he is.  He hopes such good things for them, loves them, is there for them.  They are lucky to be growing up with such a good role model in how someone can enter a  family and only love you, because you belong with them, if not to them.

I love his ability to get rid of the toxic beings in his life.   If someone continues to hurt him or someone he loves, he can give them such a 'letting alone' that they never hear from him again. This does not seem to affect him which I am somewhat bemused by.  I've traumatized myself over such decisions in the past.  I love that I can look at him and learn from him.

My husband is a snuggler, and what's not to like about that?

Left Brain is brilliant.  I thought when I first met him that he would be bored with me.  I do like a smart man.  My man is very smart.  He will poo poo me if I say that aloud, but yes...it is true, my husband is brainy.

This post could be miles long and one day I may add some to it, but for now I'll stop with this.

Love runs to you, not from you.  Despite adversity.  Despite differences.  Despite circumstance.  Despite the feelings of others.  Love wants what it wants, and my love is filled to the top by a green eyed, brilliant, sports savant, darling of a man, who makes sure that I know...I am loved.

I won life's lotto!

The New Girl

Recently we lost the dog to end all dogs.

He was THE dog. That once in a lifetime dog.

It didn't just depress and sadden us, but his bonded brother as well.  They'd been together for 7 years.

After months of contemplation we decided to add another dog to our house.  The two we had had were both rescues and both interesting, quirky individuals who showed in many ways that one of these things was not like the other!  Not even close!

We began looking at rescues.  Rescue had my heart.  The rescue we usually went through had nothing but "one dog only" homes, which left us out as Custer was still large and in charge in our home.

We decided to try further afield.  We found rescues in all the surrounding states but the state of Illinois had the most dogs available.  Think more than 20.  We contacted the smaller of the two rescues there and were told that they had nothing suitable for our situation, which I understand.  Probably medical holds and more "one dog only" pets.

We then contacted the second rescue.  They had many dogs.  We were told they did not adopt outside their specified border lines.  When we explained that we had lived in that state, in fact Custer was from that state, and that we could provide myriad testimonials by other rescues on what a great home we were, it was reiterated...nope, you have to live within our topographical parameters.

I understand their reasoning, but I find this incredibly stupid to be that unbending.  Here is a home, great vet care, only the best food and treats, well traveled, good opportunity for socialization, with the credentials to prove that one of your dogs would not only thrive but be spoiled like crazy and you say no because of borderlines.  No wonder you have so many in your rescue coffers!

A dear internet friend, a breeder, offered to help us.  She had a friend with two retired show dogs she would offer us.

We talk to her a bit, but before we go we decide we would prefer the younger dog as Custer is 8.  Bulldogs live to 10 or so...if we got another 8 year old, we'd be facing sadness x 2 very shortly.  The girl was 5.  We opted for the girl.

We drive to Illinois to meet these kind people who drove all the way from Kansas to let us look at the dogs.

Lucky was adorable, a heavy breather who LOVED everyone and to lie on a sofa.   He was a big mush.  Then there was little Margo.  45 pounds of quiet, low energy sweetness.  She had the worse eyes I've ever seen.  Green gunk pouring out of them and a double cherry eye surgery that left her with dry eye.  But she was 5, so we packed her in the car and headed home in the blizzard.

Margo/Maisie, Age 5

She traveled like a dream but didn't like being alone in the  middle seat.  She wanted the back of the SUV with  Custer so we stopped and let her back there.  They snuggled up like old friends and slept all the way home except for potty breaks.

We get her home realizing she didn't really ever live anywhere but with the breeder were prepared for a few adjustment issues.  We'd fostered dogs, we had two rescues, we knew that hard times would come and go and eventually level out.

What we did not expect was that she would lose her mind.  Apparently she was often kept in a dog run at this family's kennel.  Dogs who are kenneled have a certain behavior when finally let out.  They do this manic running here and there looking for sanctuary.  Margo would hide in a room all day if allowed.  She wanted nothing to do with us and often acted as if she had been beaten severely.

For weeks this behavior continued.  She'd run into doors, take your feet out from under you in a bullypedo move, she was so unhappy...and that broke my heart.

Seeing something so sweet be so scared is unsettling.  To see her pant and blow with exhaustion because of these manic runs heartbreaking.  

We decided to take her to the vet and get some answers or help.  It ends up she has kennel syndrome.  Dogs who are kept much of the time in a kennel or run learn it is a safe place and that running is her looking for a safe place to stop.  We ended up putting her on puppy xanax and are seeing some big improvements.  Oh she still does the run,not as much however...it is down to a livable level...most of the time.  We also found out she is fairly blind.  She has dry eye and it wasn't treated enough or with the right stuff and so, her eyes are a mess.  We have her on things now that should improve her vision and help them not be gunked up all the time.

She's very sweet, and good about all the washing of her eyes and the drops.  The vet says it has to feel good to her.  I hope so.

So what do we know about the new girl?

• She is beautiful
• Custer abides her, but only just.  She won't play and he is a dog that plays
• She has kennel syndrome
• She is basically blind
• She loves to run in the leaves
• She loves her bed
• Once she has a routine down, she is the queen of routine
• She frightens so easily
• She makes me laugh
• She is kind and gentle, when not crazy
• She reminds me of Sherman in her gentle nature 
• She reminds me of Sherman in looks
• One day...we know that she will come to not be so very afraid.

What we  also know is that she is with us for the remainder.  She is loved.  Left Brain calls her little one, I call her pretty girl, and she is coming to know us as forever.  

She will not be put in a kennel, she will have her eyes treated and she will be part of our family...crazy and all.

So welcome.   Prepare to be loved!

You got all the Thoughtful Genes

My last blog post was about my family and how I don't fit.

This post is a bit of an addendum.  More thoughts that the comment "you got all the thoughtful genes" stir up in me.

My father was tough.  Tough as nails when it came to the protection of his girls.  He was strong and determined.  He was a man of faith and family, country and friendship.  My father was thoughtful, even in little things.

Take for example my birthday.  My father was rarely around for my birthday.  My birthday falls right in that first week of deer season.  He would always be in the upper portions of our state hunting with his buddies.  He deserved that, he worked hard.  But he always made sure I had a little something, trinkets and tchotch mostly, from wherever it was he was hunting in lieu of making my birthday.

As a child I sometimes saw it as an “ahhh... my sisters didn’t get something just from daddy, did they?” thing, but most of the time I saw it as it really was.   Thoughtful.  He didn’t have to do it.  He did it on his own.  I still own the bracelet he got me when I was 8 with stones from the Bible in it.  I still have the cedar box he brought me home.  Those things meant a great deal to me…because of the thought!

I am always thankful that I am much like my father.  I’m tough as nails when it comes to my son and grand kids.  I’m strong and determined.  I am a woman of faith and family, country and friendship…and I am thoughtful.  Because of that, I truly appreciate the thoughtful things people do for me.  I know what goes into that.

When my children were growing up, and even now my grands, the little things they made me on their own, and even the little sweet things they said from their hearts mean the most to me.  Thoughtfulness will always print a heart memory directly on the sweetest spot of my heart.

Now that my son is a single father, he makes sure I get little thoughtful things from his kids.  Gift cards for manicures with her…paint ball with him.  Things he knows bring me joy.  Things with him, however, have become few and far between.  Part of that is his career, and part of it is his need to tend to his father, my ex-husband, with whom he feels (my opinion) he must protect.  After all, I have Left Brain, his father has no one.  Sometimes that lack of thought hurts me.  I wish it were not so.

For my extended family, I try to go that little extra bit.  Making things for my sisters, including them in the genealogy research and photos that I come across…I know they love it, they appreciate it.  For my nephews as they marry, I try not to only get them something off their registry, but something small, yet thoughtful as well, going rogue as it were, with that little something extra.

I’ve sat through surgeries and visited in hospitalizations.  I’ve called. 

The last time one of my sisters called me has been so long ago I can’t even recall what year it was.  My own mother never calls, but to be fair, she never calls anyone, or so I’ve been told.  The last time I was hospitalized for 5 days…no one came!  No one called.  No one cared to be bothered.  When I had surgery, no one came, called or bothered.  I find I am getting a little weary of this aspect of their lack of thoughtfulness.

One time when I commented on this, one sister said, “but…you got all the thoughtful genes” as if that explains or excuses it. 

It hasn’t.  It doesn’t.

Their lack of thoughtfulness toward me will not stop me of thinking of thoughtful things, it will, however, stop me from acting on them, and that is sad.

Left Brain counsels me that "sometimes people just need a good letting alone."  I see the value in that for myself as I get older.

It is said, "never cross oceans for people who wouldn't jump a puddle for you."

Here's the deal though, they probably won't even realize I've stopped crossing those oceans.

If I had to get all of a gene...I'm awfully glad it was the thoughtful one!