theboy and I saw in sunset pretending to be old men reminiscing about events that happened that day or the day before; "I remember that glass of milk I done drunk..."He was in his spinning ball and I was on a chair with my feet up. I celebrated the pink of the day's end with a pink drink.Old men talking as the sun dies away. A pleasant way to end a day.
Articles from Harrangue Man
Trump did a bunch of executive action bizness for bizness to stand against climate change realist bullies who have hurt the miners. He held his "let's kill the air!" celebration at the EPA.This is my fave part:“We’re going to have clean coal. Really clean coal,” Trump added.
I've put in for some jobs but the idea is anxiety-inducing; I got jittery at the thought and though my head knew all was fine my under brain did not; the dreads and susceptibility to fight flight kicked in. theboy was in his room crying, his keening wail cutting through glass and the shed, and I was atop the exercise bike so I couldn't flee without ruining the ride.
Each day I wake up and delve into the latest government atrocity committed by the Trump administration and read the typifying nonsense babbled by the orange one himself and I struggle to understand why the GOP are not doing anything about it.The Republicans created this situation by their actions in opposition that were antithetical to government, with a purely political focus of obstruction with no merit, and by fostering the cloud of unbelief and myth that soaked into their support base.
As noted I like to feed our chickens Pringles; they like them and I like how they like them.I tried to frisbee throw a Pringle to near the scruff, for her feathers cloud her eyes making it difficult to see Pringles further away, but my lame throw, wind and the design of the Pringle all led to the Pringle getting stuck in a tree.It would likely come down from the wind in a short time but I wo
It's outside but stopped for now. A blower or mower? It was a horrid noise but I did not bolt. I handled it. TV helped.I'm not under operational stress so I am not as close to the PTSD tipping point on foul sounds; of my under brain yelling at me to run. It will be interesting to see how I go with such sounds when operational stress comes again.That's life with a psychological injury; you're in a forever experiment on resilience which, by law, could never be ethically inflicted.
Heavy rainBeing balding means I lack protection for the top of my head that hair typically affords. And if something touches the top of my dome I feel it because non-feeling hair is not there to cushion the blow.One benefit though is shower fall; the steady thrum of water on top of your balding head is pleasant, reassuring.Heavy rain, however, is neither. Great fat drops of cold sky water slashing against your naked crest is most unpleasant.
I haven't slept for 28 hours. It wasn't planned; it just happened.I'm sitting on the brown couch in black sleepwear with the black cat nestled between my legs. When I look down all I see is yellow eyes, floating in black, staring up at me. I think it knows something.I slept fine previously, and I had the right pills at the right time, so it's weird to have missed a night's sleep for no real reason.
Chicken noiseThe chickens are noisy cluckers. I was trying to watch TV on a laptop whilst riding and their cluckery impeded comprehension. I yelled "SHUT UP, CHICKENS!"To my surprise, they did.
It's Skyfire here in the nation's capital, the annual firework extravaganza that cracks off over Lake Burley Griffin.