Patriotic pratter

July 6, 2008

I’m a piss-poor excuse for a blogger … which is funny considering my Internet addiction + my love of writing. Grr. Something about

I want to buy a digital camera. Maybe I’ll go do that at Wal-Mart this evening. (I hate, despise, loath, and all those other nasty words, Wal-Mart. But I live in Muskogee, Okla. Wal-Mart’s what I’ve got.

Our Fourth: Dad went out early and brought home donuts, because for us, it’s not the Fourth without donuts. When we were living overseas, we went to the U.S. Embassy for their flag-raising ceremony every year, and afterwards they had donuts and coffee and hot chocolate (hot chocolate for me, most of the years, since I was a kid. And coffee makes your knees black, my grandma says.) Then we headed over to the parking lot at my parents’ church to shoot off fireworks with some little kiddos — ministers’ kids and other kids from the church. My parents’ church aggravates me for the most part. The people are nice, but they’re so freaking BAPTIST … and conservative and homophobic and appearance-focused and outside of the real world. My problem: 1) I go to church, it’s what I do, despite my near-agnosticism, church is something I just don’t give up … and … 2) The closest UCC churches are in Tulsa … about an hour drive. With gas the way it is, plus my strong desire to reduce consumption of EVERYTHING, in general, I just don’t feel right driving an hour each way to church, even though it’s a church that fits me, that believes the way I do, that ministers in its community effectively, that worships in a way that works with the way I believe (songs at my parents’ church either irritate or bewilder me). So I keep going to their church, and usually I come away irritated, but also happy, because I enjoy the people there … many of them are good-hearted, kind people who mean well. And I get to practice my sign language.

Enough abour churchy-stuff. My relationship with churchy-stuff is complicated at best, and best worked out on my own time and NOT inflicted on my gentle readership.

Other highlights of the weekend: I drove to Bixby and Tulsa to pick up vegan provisions … almond butter, raw walnuts, pepitas, Mori-nu, soy yogurt … (yes, yes. I realize that two grafs ago I said I wasn’t willing to drive to Tulsa for church, but apparently I am for almond butter and soy yogurt? To that I have only this reply: have you ever HAD almond butter??? Actually, I make that provisioning trip once a month or so. Different than driving every week … and I’m still considering making that trip every week).

And now I’ve got some beets roasting in the oven, and some tabouli melding in the fridge. I’m not particularly hungry, which is my favorite time to make slow-moving food … there’s no rush to get it done and eat it … I can just let it cook itself and then slap it in the fridge until I’m ready for it tonight or tomorrow or whenever.

Happy fourth everyone!

“That ain’t workin’”

April 28, 2008

Thursday was Take our Daughters and Sons to Work day.

Funny how it’s turned from a feminist push to encourage girls to grow up and get jobs, to a sort of field trip-cum-career day for grade school kids. At least at my office. Most striking to me was that the adults that brought the kids didn’t hang around for any of the activities (and with the aging workforce in my field — government services — most of the kids were grandkids and grandnieces; there was only one “daughter”). 

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