Monday Morning Musing

One of these weeks, months, I’ll get back to a regular working routine. As of today, time on the keyboard is still limited. Some things I can dictate, like work on my book, but I’ve always needed to punch the keys for updating the blog. Goes back to my newspaper days when I wrote columns and did that on an old Smith Corona typewriter. Something about the sound of the keys clacking pushed the words out of my head.

I know, that probably sounds weird, but then weird is an adjective that describes many writers. We are an odd breed.

I try my best to ignore the village idiots on social media who are spreading anger, disinformation, lies, and vitriol against everyone who disagrees with them. There are enough idiots in positions of power in the government, as illustrated in the following Tweet from Neal Katyal Former US Acting Solicitor General and Supreme Court Lawyer.

Obviously, I snagged the Tweet early last week before the ruling on Roe was revealed and just after the ruling on the New York State case involving the gun issue.

“Gonna be very weird if Supreme Court ends a constitutional right to obtain an abortion next week, saying it should be left to the States to decide, right after it just imposed a constitutional right to concealed carry of firearms, saying it cannot be left to the States to decide.” Neal Katyal, Former US Acting Solicitor General and Supreme Court lawyer. on Twitter

Katyal then shared this image:

Image

I almost scrapped this post that was in draft mode for a week after I’d read the tweet, but decided the point Katyal makes is still relevant, and certainly worth consideration. It points out the contradictions in many decisions made by folks in Federal and State governments.

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Now here’s a story from Slim Randles that first ran here on the blog in 2011. It has such a great message of hope and peace, I thought it appropriate to share again. Enjoy…

When we first noticed the baby sparrow, here at the house, it saddened us all. He had fallen from his nest and was slowly walking around the front yard under the tree while his mother and father had an absolute fit.

We knew we were looking at a dead baby bird, as it was only a question of who does it, where it is done, and how long before it happens. Years of experience in these kinds of things have taught us the finality of a baby bird falling out of a tree. Would the end come from a cat, or from a raccoon wandering up from Lewis Creek, or a snake?

One of the problems with being a baby bird is that almost everything with teeth wants to eat you, and if you can’t fly, there’s not much you can do about it. We learned that picking the baby up and putting him back in the nest wouldn’t work, so we were forced to just watch his timid movements around the yard and whisper to him, “I’m sorry, pal.”

You might think that the older we get, the tougher our shells become to these little natural tragedies, but it doesn’t seem to work that way. Maybe it’s because we now have children of our own, and grandchildren, too. Maybe that’s why it actually hurts more to see a helpless baby bird today than when we were 11 and riding our bikes on the river trails.

Back then we were bulletproof, flexible, and immortal. But we learned things over the years. We saw people our age die. We saw younger people die. We accumulated our own little collection of personal tragedies.

Then the baby bird found the drain spout. Yep, that little rascal hopped into the opening of the drain spout coming off the roof and had sense enough to stay in there, coming to the edge of his “cave” only for meals from his anxious mother.

A week later, I thought I recognized him sitting on a tree branch, looking smug. There was no bird hiding in the drain spout and I didn’t see any feathers around on the ground.

We live in an age of small miracles.
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Sponsored by: www.pearsonranch.com.  Farm direct, delicious, California navel & Valencia oranges.

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Check out all of Slim’s award-winning books at his Goodreads Page and in better bookstores and bunkhouses throughout the free world.

All of the posts here are from his syndicated column, Home Country that is read in hundreds of newspapers across the country. I am always happy to have him share his wit and wisdom here.

Slim Randles is a veteran newspaperman, hunting guide, cowboy and dog musher. He was a feature writer and columnist for The Anchorage Daily News for 10 years and guided hunters in the Alaska Range and the Talkeetna Mountains. A resident of New Mexico now for more than 30 years, Randles is the prize-winning author of a dozen books, and is host of two podcasts and a television program.

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