Lucy's Spleen

Cape Cod

 

 

 

All is not right. I've been feeling painfully unsettled and helpless, but I believe I can now trace all the problems of the world to insufficient lighting options and inharmonious furniture groupings in our apartment. Operation Seasonal Overhaul commences now.

Weekend

Atlantic, originally uploaded by Mle-Mle.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Unorthodox Organizing

Him: You own a metronome?

Me: Sure.

Him: What do you use it for?

Me: I never use it.

Him: What is it doing on the porch?

Me: It was in the hammock box.

Now that I think of it, that doesn't seem like such an unpromising pairing.

I know I don't exactly live here anymore, but this emergency in the life of someone dear merits a check-in and so much more.

 

Squid said it best, so let's hear it from her:

Gwendomama is one of my favorite people and bloggers. She is a loud-mouthed, small-business-owning, straight-shooting, food-loving, empathetic woman and dedicated mom. She is a wonderful friend to folks both inside and outside of the computer, to parents who advocate for special needs kids, and especially to parents who -- like her -- have faced the unimaginable in losing a child.

The unimaginable happened to her again. Last month, she became a victim, and to literally add insult to injury, she has found herself in a financial hole. Please, please help us help our hardworking friend gather funds for her and her children's immediate needs: food, rent, utility bills.

We are bloggers. Our superpower is connectivity, and when we use that power for good, we can save and change the world. Please forward, blog, connect, and -- especially -- donate. The campaign will end next Friday, 5/22. No amount is too small, and the sky's the limit. Thank you.

Really. Thank you.

We're Going

 

See: Presidential Inauguration Committee

and: Obamapalooza

Last night at 2:00 a.m. a mass of students paraded through our neighborhood, hollering ecstatically that, "Yes, we can," and that, "This is what democracy looks like." Our pals in NYC reported that all of Brooklyn was rejoicing: people were dancing in the streets, sounding noisemakers, throwing confetti- the works. D.C. was blowing up, Chicago, even Utah. It's extraordinary! I've always felt that my generation was missing the unity and sense of achievement I've seen among other generations that is born from a widespread sense of common ideals and common purpose. But now we have done this together and it is new. We haven't experienced such a prevailing inclination before so it's tough to pin down and we're apprehensive about acknowledging it outright, but I think what we're feeling is hope.

Election Day, 2008

I am in love with democracy today. I haven't been so excited about voting since my first election after I turned eighteen in 1996. Rather, this time I was more excited, since my '96 vote for Clinton was effectively pointless in the great red state of Utah. Waiting in line at the Methodist church this morning it was all I could do refrain from cheering other voters as they emerged from the booths. "Good job!" I wanted to call out to them, "Congratulations! You did it!" I was thrilled to participate in this process with them, no matter how they voted (though let's be real here: this is Massachusetts- they voted Democrat), I felt proud of all of us and- how can I say this?- harmonious. I felt, for once, serenely harmonious with my fellow Americans. To every one of you who voted: I'm proud of you. I applaud you for engaging in this civic opportunity. Thank you. Congratulations.

white words

Also, though we've held a joint address for years, this is the first time Stan and I have gone to the polls together. After voting side-by-side this morning, then watching the votes roll in to such a thrilling result tonight, I will look back on this as among the most romantic and momentous experiences we've shared together.

Here's Walt:

Election Day, November, 1884
Walt Whitman

If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and show,
'Twould not be you, Niagara--nor you, ye limitless prairies--nor
your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado,
Nor you, Yosemite--nor Yellowstone, with all its spasmic
geyser-loops ascending to the skies, appearing and disappearing,
Nor Oregon's white cones--nor Huron's belt of mighty lakes--nor
Mississippi's stream:
--This seething hemisphere's humanity, as now, I'd name--the still
small voice vibrating--America's choosing day,
(The heart of it not in the chosen--the act itself the main, the
quadriennial choosing,)
The stretch of North and South arous'd--sea-board and inland--
Texas to Maine--the Prairie States--Vermont, Virginia, California,
The final ballot-shower from East to West--the paradox and conflict,
The countless snow-flakes falling--(a swordless conflict,
Yet more than all Rome's wars of old, or modern Napoleon's:) the
peaceful choice of all,
Or good or ill humanity--welcoming the darker odds, the dross:
--Foams and ferments the wine? it serves to purify--while the heart
pants, life glows:
These stormy gusts and winds waft precious ships,
Swell'd Washington's, Jefferson's, Lincoln's sails.

Photos From Last Year Of How It Is Around Here Lately