It’s Monday! It’s snowing again! Doc’s guts are acting up again! I saw this last night and just burst out laughing–that poor lady. She is me, expecting to be able to do a new job perfectly, expecting physical bodies to just recover immediately, expecting spring weather to be, you know, spring-like. Sometimes those expectations just get flung across the carnival ride.
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Wow are we all having a hard time with the weather here. I saw my brother last weekend and we just looked at each other and shook our heads. I saw my friend yesterday and we both swore we’d plan a trip NOW for February 2024. I am so uninspired (and COLD) and I know the blog reflected that this week.
Also, it’s snowing as I write this and we’re expecting 4 inches from this storm today.
1. Related to the struggle with a winter that is just not going to end, I’ve started saying this to Doc after every basic task I complete (from here):
2. Is “your mom being vindicated that your youthful shoe choices will wreck your feet” part of the human condition? It might be. That’s how this Atlantic piece about the rise of cool orthopedic sneakers was framed, and I encountered it just as I realized my knees can’t handle wearing Converse any more.
3. I can’t get this song out of my head:
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4. And finally, there is a general strike on in France and I’m sorry, the French even make striking look cool as hell:
Electricians and gas workers rallying with the youth. The fight against pension reform in France continues. pic.twitter.com/c0lEvf58a7
— Dripped Out Trade Unionists (@UnionDrip) March 23, 2023
Solidarity!
Here are some things I’ve saved in my feeds as this cold, wet March still refuses to be springlike.
Here’s a lovely little poem for Wednesday, something to remember as we keep on fighting the good fight. We can be the last leaves.
You Can’t
by Maya Abu Al-Hayyat
translated by Fady Joudah
They will fall in the end,
those who say you can’t.
It’ll be age or boredom that overtakes them,
or lack of imagination.
Sooner or later, all leaves fall to the ground.
You can be the last leaf.
You can convince the universe
that you pose no threat
to the tree’s life.
from You Can Be the Last Leaf, 2022
I met Doc nine years ago today, at a friend’s birthday party at the fancy taco place. He made a pun about the fish of the day and the rest is history.
We don’t have a lot of pics together but this is one from the summer of 2014 and nothing makes you realize how much you’ve grown and endured together than looking at the unyielding passage of time:
Since that picture was taken we’ve dealt with my mental health, my mom died, we debated kids, there was a pandemic, we pooled our money, Toby got old, I started caring about politics (he always did), and so much more.
I always assumed being a couple was date nights and fun trips, but being partners is that and a lot of hard stuff, too. He makes it not feel hard, though, and there isn’t anyone else I’d rather do the fun or the hard things with. Happy anniversary, honey. I love you.
We took our nephew to the Utah Museum of Natural History yesterday and had a good time poking around the giant building, wondering how the dioramas were made, and checking out the skyline from the roof terrace:
(He whipped out a spyglass to check things out; I don’t know where he was keeping it but clearly he was prepared for the trip.)
The museum is the very model of a modern major attraction, with lots (and lots) of interpretive text—even Wallace Stegner:
He might have stolen most of Angle of Repose from Mary Foote’s journals but that thief sure could describe the West.
1. Nebraska state senator Machaela Cavanaugh is a true hero: She is using a filibuster rule to hold up every bill that comes through during the legislative session, in protest after a bill that would outlaw gender-affirming care for minors* advanced out of committee.
From the AP story: Cavanaugh has spent entire days of her filibuster discussing her favorite Girl Scout cookies, Omaha’s best doughnuts, and the plot of the movie “Madagascar.”
“If this legislature collectively decides that legislating hate against children is our priority, then I am going to make it painful — painful for everyone,” Cavanaugh said. “I will burn the session to the ground over this bill.”
Do not cross a Midwestern woman.
*specifically, trans minors. Let’s be clear, cis people (minors, too) can continue to get gender affirming care with no barriers—without even realizing they’re getting it. Example: Years ago, I got a testosterone-blocking medication called spironolactone by a dermatologist to help with acne. If you’re a middle-aged cis man, you can get Viagra with just an appointment with your primary care doctor. Boob jobs, hormone replacement therapy for menopause, hair transplants if you’re going bald…all gender affirming care. If you think trans people shouldn’t have that, really ask yourself why.
2. Ahem. Here are some capybaras chilling tf out. I would like to join them.
3. And finally, I have never thought about Gene Kelly’s core strength before, but now I can’t stop watching this.
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(jk, I actually hired a financial planner last week and I feel SO adult [and relieved]. But this still crosses my mind.)
Lyz Lenz’s newsletter was a guest post today from Molly Monk, about making a community in a red state (Cedar Rapids, IA)
Our lives are different from the heterosexual homes that feel more insular, built around husbands, wives, and children. We build our lives with and around an expansive network of friends and loves. You don’t have to be queer to do this (and there are people in my community who aren’t), but being queer makes it easier to imagine a life, a happy life, outside of the traditional nuclear family. Whether their family rejects them or not, most queer people have had to at least confront the possibility that they’d lose support from their loved ones for being who they are. Once you decide to choose being yourself over the traditional expectations of family, a whole new way of living opens itself up to you — one that’s free of gender roles and expectations and full of beautiful possibilities.
Alok’s statement has stuck with me since I saw it last year:
Sophia, on TikTok as “Trans Elder Sophia,” shares her perspective 40 years post-transition (if you have a young person in your life, show them this):
@transeldersophia #trans #transgender #transsexual #transwomen #transeldersophia ♬ original sound – Sweet and Saucy Sophia
“They can try as they might to erase us. They won’t. […] No matter what laws they pass, trans people will continue to be born.”
Rep. Bowman’s shows us how to be a straight/cis ally:
“They’re not taking your lunch money. Let them live their lives.”
Amen.
As I said yesterday, we were at the ER Friday for a CT scan/meds for diverticulitis. It wasn’t a bad visit, as ER visits go–and this isn’t our first gut rodeo–but I was stressed. So I thought, “Wouldn’t it be nice to stop at Sewtopia when you pick up Doc’s prescriptions and get a little treat?”
The bag I finished last week was ok when it was 100% full, but I realized I wasn’t using it stuffed to the brim and it was annoyingly floppy. At the back of my mind I thought I would just look at Sewtopia’s heavy canvas and webbing and just consider maybe making a new version of the bag.
Reader, I got a little treat…of 10 oz canvas and a really cool patterned webbing I never would have considered had the delightful store owner not recommended it. I came home with fabric and meds and proceeded to spend Saturday making another bag:
All these pictures are of an empty bag–the right weight of canvas really gives it structure. Here’s a comparison of the two so you can see what I mean by “annoyingly floppy”: 
The heavy canvas is definitely more functional and I love the “1970s kitchen” colors. I even threw on a random label I had sitting around. Happiness wherever possible, right?
Was this a little bit of an obsessive and unnecessary project? Sure. But is sewing a fairly harmless way to feel like you can control something, and do you need that when you feel like you’re at the mercy of random Fates? Absolutely. Plus, now I have a really functional (extra) bag.
PS- I escaped jury duty.
