Shabbat morning dawn with a light, wispy winter’s fog. It is a cool, but not unbearable 60° degrees, and very calm. Not much of a winter this year. One day of snow, one day of melt, and everything but the trees is a bright green.
A quick scan of the news yields little news, but lots of opinion. One reporter for a left leaning publication travels to Wyoming and discovers that the people there do not trust her, do not trust Washington, don’t want to hear negative reporting on Trump, and that just saddened her that so many distrust her. Unreasoning brutes! I suspect that the left is about to discover that their scorched earth politics wasn’t their best strategy. It doesn’t bode well for the U.S. as a country. And the headlines say that Nancy Sinatra will never forgive Trump and his supporters. I am just crushed, but not so crushed as to read the article. I suspect that Trumps supporters likely feel the same about her. So I move on. It is what it is.
I was thinking of fixing breakfast, but I am still feeling bloated this morning and may just fast through the morning instead. I chalked it up to aging dyspepsia. Another of a vast cornucopia of maladies that makes growing old a misery. But again, no use griping. It is what it is, and we move on again.
Not much on the social sites this morning either. There was a big push by my friends to move away from facebook, but I note we all sort of gravitate back to it, leaving yet another social platform application sitting idly on the desktop. Complain all we want about the bias, we apparently love the abuse. I have taken to deleting memes showing the new President committing new horrors each day. It is also a given. I resist where I can and sit in sullen silence where I can’t. And apparently, that really is confusing leftists, so that is a good thing.
So, on this anti-politics, anti-news day, I gripe about politics and news. And so, I move on.