I got a lot done in two incredibly busy hours yesterday morning, but first I went back to bed and slept until 10:30. And then I made a list; went to the first place and picked up a gift card; drove to Lane Bryant and looked over the houndstooth cape, which was lovely, but too loosely woven to last more than a season, and I don’t buy disposable clothing, so no, ditto the flats (cloth shoes are impractical for Ms. Ravelled, assuming they would fit) and the clutch (too easily soiled, but quite attractive in its pristine state); I will check out the fit of the houndstooth blouse later, when I have more time, and if it fits I will buy it when it goes on sale at the end of the season; then off to another store to get a different gift card; to the grocery store where I got the salad fixins, a gallon of milk, and the penultimate gift card; last to CVS to use my coupon for stockings, get more disinfecting wipes, and a stash of raspberry M&M’s. All in two hours, and without breaking any land speed records
My friend Kristen linked to Orson Scott Card’s recent article about Ann Romney’s speech. The rest of his article is good, as well.
You all know that I am more than somewhat politically conservative, but not entirely. The Birchers turn me off. Some of the Tea Party stuff turns me off. That idiot in Missouri, who has since apologized for his idiotic statement about a woman’s body being magically able to prevent pregnancy in a case of rape, makes me want to start by punching him in the nose and then continue on to hitting him where it might actually get his attention. The experiences of thousands upon thousands of women over the course of Earth’s history, who were raped by conquering armies, deliberately, to break down the civilization and cohesion of the vanquished country, would testify to the contrary.
And I happen to know a little something about rape. Had I become pregnant when it happened, I would probably have chosen abortion. Had it happened after my conversion to the Church, particularly in the twilight years of my fertility, I would almost certainly have chosen to bear the child and give him or her up for adoption. I would never insist that any other woman do the same. I am fervently, but not stupidly, Pro-Life. I loathe abortion in principle. My personal belief is that a human begins at the moment of conception, and certainly by the time one feels that quickening. (If I remember correctly, the latter is what Brigham Young taught.) I could be wrong. But I want there to be skilled professionals who know how to do the job right, in those cases of rape, incest, or when the mother’s life is at stake. I am here on Earth because at one time my mother required a D&C, and it was done competently and professionally, and she healed properly, and when it was time for Heaven to surprise them with a second child? BINGO! Here I am.
My friend Alison has spoken well and passionately about the dangers of the personhood bill that is being contemplated, which would prevent women from having life-saving procedures such as a D&C when medically warranted. It’s a little jarring to find myself agreeing with the pro-abortionists that it’s my womb, dadgummit, and the government ought to stay out of it.
I should probably add that while I am not happy about Obamacare, I am nevertheless thankful that it has made it possible to add Beloved to my health insurance and is keeping one very good man alive. I don’t count that as hypocrisy, but as a well-honed sense of irony.
I will also add that unlike many people (including dear, staunchly Democrat relatives) my personal economy has steadily improved over the past three and a half years, as I followed my church’s teachings on stewardship, faithfully paid my tithes and offerings, and watched my 401K grow sufficiently that I could raid it last year after I turned 59.5 to pay off the last of the debt I incurred. I do not give Mr. Obama’s administration any credit for that; in fact I will gleefully turn his words upon him: “You, Mr. President, didn’t build my [marginal and fledgling] success.” Hard work, correct principles, and bushels of patience and blessings did. For which Heaven be thanked.
I loathe politics nearly as much as I loathe abortions. I was glad that we elected Mr. Obama to be our President, because I thought it finally meant an official end to racist stupidity. (I did not vote for him, but I know plenty of sensible people who did, for one reason or another.) I remember how nervous some people were when President Kennedy was a candidate, thinking that the Vatican was now going to rule American politics. They were wrong. I hope that we elect Romney and Ryan for the next four years, and I hope that they can bring our policies into alignment with the values I hold dear, and I hope that it might mean an official end to religious bigotry. (I was reluctantly impressed with Mike Huckabee’s speech the other night. He appears to be a jackass-in-remission.
Stepping down from my soapbox to go make cookies for a family BBQ and get my church clothes assembled for a funeral in our ward, later this afternoon.
Gahhhh! I just had to get a lot of stuff out of my system.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!