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Political Nonsense

What has happened to my fair country? I feel like I am living in some surreal book where things happen that you know could not really be happening in real life. Yet, wait, they are happening here. Maybe it is the doom and gloom is magnified by my recent losses but goodness me. Has the whole world went stark raving, mad?

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What is it with dying?

I am so done with this whole death issue. Seriously, I am full aware that there are people out there that have had it worse than I have in that aspect but the people closest to me keep dying young and it is killing me.

Letting me know you’re going is one thing, too. But leaving all quick like and without warning is for the birds. I don’t like it in the least. 

When I was growing up, I was an only child. I had tons of boy cousins around my age but only one female cousin and she just happened to be nine months younger! As luck would have it, she was an only, too. Her mom didn’t seem to mind me tagging along everywhere, so I did. For years we were together all the time. Built in friends and all. I am sure that it is closest to a sister as I’ll ever have. Even my step brothers didn’t compare to having her in my life. 

Crystal was 34 years old when she left this life on January 31st of this year. She left behind a son, and the boy looks just like her only in boy, he’s 13. Of course, her parents are devastated and for her mom, my heart literally obliterates itself every time I think about it. Losing a child, seems to me, one of the impossible things in life. I’m so glad she has Jeremy to enjoy, I only wish it could be more. I wish I could lesson her burden, for the life of me, I can’t figure out how. And the worst part of it all? I can’t make myself see this as a reality. I keep wondering when this terrible nightmare will be over.

Sleep well Pretty Girl, I know that your heart is no longer troubled. Have peace and light for the rest of always and wait for me to get to where I’m going, it’s only fair if you’re going to leave someone like this!

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http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/06/child-brides/gorney-text/1

I read this article this morning and it occurred to me once again that people all over the world are afflicted by such nasty, vile creatures in their society. Only difference is that in some parts of the world, parents are in on the transfer of their children to these predators. What need does a 50-year-old man have of a 10-year-old child-bride? If there will be no sexual relation, she is but another mouth to feed in a household that is probably already too bloated. But I think we all know that the child most likely was violated as immediately as possible. It sickens me to realize that people seem to have no sense, they let traditions color their decisions. We all must evolve and let certain traditions die in the name of progress and safety.

A few years ago, I was mildly obsessed with the FLDS sect and the writings of at least two of the young brides forced into such situations here in our own society where this sort of thing is completely looked down upon and illegal. It occurred to me then that it was simply the support of nasty pedophiles that kept the entire thing going. All in the name of religious faith. This is why I do not see merit in the religiousness of groups as a whole. Personal accountability for your own faith and salvation should be enough, men completely pervert and corrupt things of this nature. It is evident everywhere.

Back to the article at hand, the pictures possibly are the most effective tool. Such soulful eyes looking back at you, often with something that appears an awful lot like fear, asking what more they can do but follow these traditions and customs laid out before them by the people they should be able to trust the most. A man centric society is a corrupt society, it appears. One young lady is 26 years old with ten children of her own. Chances are very good that at least a few of her daughters will suffer the same fate. If for nothing more than the need for someone else to take the financial burden from the family. But it is looked upon with great pride that she has had these 10 children at her young age. It seems to me that if there were less births, the need to give your daughters to older men whom will prey upon them sexually would be nil. The saddest part of the whole ordeal? No one even remotely prepares these girls for what they are likely to go through on their wedding night. No one explains what will happen once they are pregnant and are due to give birth. No one takes the time to care for these young ladies after their bodies fail them in childbirth and they have life long medical issues and incontinence (which is seen as a stain upon the woman, not the vile beast that did these things to her.) No one takes care to save the 13-year-old girl who has had her internal organs ruptured by some savage within the first four days of this ‘marriage’ she has just been forced to endure.

It is rape, plain and simple. Just because it is brokered between two adults does not make it any less brutal and disgusting. It is unacceptable and opinions of these customs and traditions must be swayed. Fathers must be encouraged to see the value in their daughters not just as wives, but as human beings separate and apart from a man. Little girls shouldn’t have to dream of going to high school while living the night mare of a marriage arranged by seemingly uncaring adults. They should be dreading high school while they dream of a grand wedding some day to someone who loves them and will wait until they are ready to be a wife. It is a simple idea yet so complex to some.

It begs the question: What happens when these nasty men aren’t satisfied with their young females, do they also prey upon the young boys and no one says a word? It seems that since men are valued above everything else that it would not be tolerated. But I do wonder, eventually child brides will not be enough for a pedophile. And what grown man would bed a 10 yr old child and not be called a pedophile, am I not right?

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Oh how I love this time of the year. I am counting the days until I have a summer unfettered by schedules and drop off/pick up lines. I can sleep late, stay up late, indulge in  teenage behavior until my heart is content. Bliss.

This year is no different but the added relief of fewer trips to the gas pump has me down right giddy! Honestly, it might be cheaper to rent a house in that district instead of paying for all the gas, but we have a perfectly good home here…

But, who cares? It’s all out the window for now. I get to harass kids all summer long while resorting to my night owlish ways. Giddy!

I have added a yearly tradition to my schedule. I have been to pick strawberries twice this year and I plan to make it a habit. They are so much better than anything you can get at the grocery. Hands down a million times better. E has eaten so many that I think she’ll turn red any moment. I know for a fact that she’s eat an entire quart herself since Thursday. She’s still pretty tiny! I knew when our little plants were only producing a ripe berry every few days that I would have to do something. She would check them and say, “Meme, can I have that straawbwery?” hardly waiting until I washed it. The darn critters are beating her to her little treats, they like them very much, too.

Happy spring’s end to one and all, I plan to usher in the summer sleeping in, swimming, and otherwise enjoying our little domestication type situation. As aggravating  as kids are, they are so much fun to have around. I’m one of those parents who really does hate to see summer come to a close. I miss my little minion, they should be here doing my biding, no one else’s. TYVM.

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To the most handsome man I have ever known. There is something to be said for outward beauty but the truth worth of a man is the make up of his character. I could not have picked a better mate.  A solid partner, someone who helped me make beautifully intelligent babies, and who helps me to parent them equally well, not to mention a great lover. How lucky can one girl be?

They say that every girl marries a man like her father. This wasn’t the case for me. Perhaps due to my parents divorce and growing up mostly in my grandparents’ home, I picked a man most like my grandfather. He wasn’t perfect, but he was pretty freakin’ awesome to me. And that’s how Daniel is. He’s not perfect, but he’s pretty damn awesome at being my partner in crime.

 

Love or something like it

 

Now, it must be said that I did grow up with my grandparents but my parents weren’t deadbeats by any means. My mother worked nights and my dad didn’t really know what to do with a kid. Or any other person outside of himself, for that matter. I am 100% certain that he was autistic, knowing what I know now. There will never be a concrete diagnosis as he’s gone now, but there is overwhelming evidence in that favor. He was a good dad in all the ways he knew how to be, he just wasn’t my concrete fatherly role model type person. Which is ok, as it turns out!

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My dearest woke up feeling helpful this morning. He decided he’d put on the roast I bought yesterday to be ready for dinner. He didn’t know I had a specific recipe in mind! He knew the basic principle of what I was going for though, so he did pretty good! I only had to add a few things to get it on the way to what I had planned. Crisis averted.

Someone posted the link to this recipe on a forum that I frequent sometime last year. I tried it at the time and loved the results. This time I didn’t have red wine on hand so I used beer instead. It turned out fantastically. Before this recipe, I had never used alcohol for cooking purposes. Neither of us enjoy wine in any capacity but we were both pleasantly surprised when we sat down to this dish last year. I had used beer on beef before, but not this recipe specifically. I’m happy to say that the modifications were pretty darn yummy. It’s not as strong, which I think I prefer. James liked both versions equally.

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I actually forgot to pick up carrots yesterday. Instead of fresh carrots, I just put in the sliced carrots I had in my pantry a few minutes before serving. I’m also fresh out of herbs de provence. She lists a recipe to make your own and I put what I had on hand in my spice cabinet into the pot. Melisa’s brand has an organic grinder which is what I used last time. I actually prefer the Garden Herb Sea Salt but eh.

Everything is hanging out on a bed of yummy mashed potatoes. I like to add a little sour cream or cream cheese for creaminess and depth. Also, it’s just dang good.

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The original recipe for Beef Bourguignon Slow Cooker style.

P.S. My food photography skills are pretty lame. Sorry about that.

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post. It’s not. Nope, not even a little bit. Unless you’re a vampire, then sure it is. Happy Christmas. Cursing ensues, be forewarned…

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