Next year the beautiful Christmas trees will be back, in both the White House and our own homes.
But for now we’re stuck with the FJB tree.
But hang in there, help is on the way.
Reflections FROM MOTUS: THE MIRROR OF THE UNITED STATES
Next year the beautiful Christmas trees will be back, in both the White House and our own homes.
But for now we’re stuck with the FJB tree.
But hang in there, help is on the way.
I followed Jettie’s instructions and opened her package yesterday. Inside there was another box, also marked in her unmistakable hand “Open December 1, not before and not after!” As if I would dare violate her orders.
And so, mystery solved: in addition to a crocheted hot pad-mop-up cloth (I have a lovely collection now) there was this charming foldout box Advent calendar. A little door for everyday from December 1 to December 24.
Front of Advent box, folded up
Open it up and there are 24 windows. Behind door #1 was a little gnome all rolled up and smooshed in, he expanded when released from his confines.
gnome #1, sitting on the hot pad
There was also a Christmas card like I’m sure others have received with a picture of young Jettie, the way we want to think of her: young, full of life and at ease in her world. She was at Kinkaku-ji, a Buddhist temple in Kyoto. The year was 1993, when we were all young, full of life and with no clue what lay ahead.
Beautiful Jettie at Kinkaka-ji ‘93
Of course Jettie never sent a card without including a little trinket. This time if was a handmade tree ornament.
It will have a place of honor on my down-sized tree this year, along with the other Jettie ornaments she’s sent over the years.
So bittersweet, all done while knowing she was about to shuffle off this mortal coil. I would be lying if I told you it didn’t make me cry. What a hard year it has been for the MOTI, and yet here we all are: celebrating Trumps victory, Thanksgiving and soon Christmas. We are a tough lot and will soldier through together.
Since it is December 2nd today I also opened the second door: another little gnome! I may have to get another tree to hang my complete Jettie collection. Such a nice remembrance.
May one and all have a happy Muttday.
For each new morning with its light, For rest and shelter of the night, For health and food, for love and friends, For everything Thy goodness sends. - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I have so much to be thankful for it’s hard to know where to start. So I will start with you - the MOTI who gather here. We are like family whose members don’t always agree and some times even squabble but are nevertheless connected by a deep common bond. Unlike real families our bond isn’t blood but rather the shared values and principles that our country was founded on and we learned to cherish. We are bound together by our Constitution, the guide to building an America where freedom, opportunity, prosperity, and civil society flourish.
I am thankful for the many other things I have to be grateful for: I’m grateful I was born on the cusp of the 50s, when America was great and nobody was ashamed of that.
A Sears-Roebuck Dutch colonial; ‘colonial’ - you could never list it that way today.
For having been born to a world where individual freedom, self-reliance and personal responsibility were core values of everyone who aspired to be a good citizen, and that was nearly everyone.
Where the freedom call of the open road was a siren’s song
beckoning us to explore the land and our place in it.
I’m grateful that I was born when America was seen as a melting pot - and that was a good thing, not bad. A time before ‘cultural appropriation’ was a thing and, if used at all, applied only to the Brits raiding Egyptian tombs.
Taco Tuesday wasn’t a thing and tacos weren’t racist
I’m grateful for having received an actual education focused on knowledge, critical thinking and how to think rather than indoctrination consisting of what to think about such things as ‘critical race theory’ and other ‘social justice’ issues.
I’m grateful that I was raised in a time when many people, black and white, worked to correct true civil rights injustices. And when “peaceful protests”
meant marches and sit-ins rather than riots and and the creation of fake victims to be exploited for political gain.
I’m grateful for having been young at a time when it wasn’t necessary to feel guilty about everything that I ate, drank, drove, bought or dreamed about for fear of being selfish and killing the planet.
Just because it was cool
For these, and much, much more, I’m truly grateful. I will wrap up this Thanksgiving post with my annual MOTI Thanksgiving prayer from my mirror days:
In addition to all the other blessings
you have conferred on my reflective frame
I wish to thank you, Lord,
for the companionship of steadfast comrades
whose wit and wisdom and strength
help steer me through these tempestuous seas
of flattery and lies churned to fury by the ill will of demagogues.
Amen.
A special thanks to all who visit here. I wish you a peaceful, happy Thanksgiving unmarred by strife. Because there is always, always something to be thankful for.
Prayers for all in need.
When AI takes over the world:
And that is often very difficult to do.
Unrelated note: I received a box from Jettie yesterday. It made me cry. I haven’t opened it yet because Jettie wrote in big letters in her impeccable handwriting “OPEN DECEMBER 1”. I’ve no idea why but I will honor her request. I hope it contains another handmade Blue Dog Christmas ornament. Prized before but now cherished.
Bless Kubla for mailing all of Jettie’s Christmas cards and packages. Wishing all a very good Sunday.
What the heck, we just got Trump elected, that’s enough for one week. But feel free to be an overachiever if you’d like
Ah, my heart is made heavy by the loss of our Jettie. To call our Blue Dog unique is an understatement. She was a one of a kind firebrand of good humor, honesty, justice and generosity with a healthy disregard for authority. And by healthy I mean she had none.
Sure, she could be prickly if you inadvertently hit one of her hot buttons but she calmed down as quickly as she went off. With nary a disingenuous bone in her body you always knew where she stood.
A true independent product of Alberta’s prairies she could have been a cowgirl. Instead she followed her dreams all over the world with career stops in New York, London, Thailand and who knows where else. Yet ultimately the prairie girl was lured home where she made it her job to harass the local bureaucrats.
We’ll all continue to benefit from her contributions to our vocabulary. While she didn’t invent them all she did introduce them to our collective blog-speak: plonk, fur mops, the infamous “fek” and hence “Justi-fek” and a lot more that I forget.
Her mailbombs were legendary and guaranteed to bring a smile to the face of the recipient. I was a frequent recipient of her thoughtful packages and cards. Here’s a birthday card she sent one year that still makes me laugh whenever I run across it. It’s just so Jettie:
I have mementoes from her both here and in Park City: beer mats, Iditarod paraphernalia, refrigerator magnets and most recently all purpose hand knitted potholders/cleanup mops. Not to mention the handmade Blue Dog Christmas ornaments which are magnificent and will always be cherished.
One year I got a birthday package containing canned salmon (which she thoughtfully translated into American ounces), Canadian dried dill and Jettie-grown dried parsley (for the sauce that goes with salmon patties), maple syrup, almond nougat and many other goodies.
This year’s package contained Japanese sweets and Canadian Cheezies, far superior to Cheetos.
So here’s to Jettie: one of a kind, kind-hearted and genuine. Her spirit burned bright, sometimes hot,but always lit our lives making them a little bit better for it. You will never be forgotten.
I think Betty Anne’s description was perfect:
A woman without guile, generous and loving, soulful and truthful and without compare. She lived her life without flinching, fierce as a lioness, gentle as a lamb to those she loved. She was the meter, the weight and measure of truthfulness and honesty. She's with Jesus now!
Having a bit of a rough week so you kids just go outside and play.
And while you’re at it maybe provide captions for the above photos. I’m pretty sure the first one has something to do with Elon Musk and the second with Donald Trump. Your thoughts?
These were waiting for me on Friday when I got home from my daily radiation treatment,
with a note saying “Fight, Fight, Fight! Love, the MOTI.” And I will. I can feel the love and encouragement that accompanies the floral arrangement and appreciate it more than you can know.
I’ve not done the colors justice as they are deep, vibrant crimson and royal purple. Absolutely gorgeous!A wonderful surprise and delight to the end of a long week. Thank you, all, for brightening our weekend and helping me get ready for next week. Thanks is hardly adequate for such a thoughtful and delightful gift.
Fall is slipping by all too fast but by all accounts it’s supposed to be mostly sunny and unseasonably warm around here all next week. Wishing you all equally fair weather and a wonderful week. Shore up your strength for election day, we’re likely to need it.
Like Marxism, stage 4 cancer is evil and never completely goes away. It lurks beneath the radar until such time as it raises its ugly head again and we must fight it, again. And so it goes. My last scan showed tumor growth in the esophagus which calls for another round of radiation beginning next week (if the techs don’t hold a walkout as they have threatened, but that’s another story). Of course there will be side effects including nausea and fatigue, two of my constant companions already so I’m well acquainted and can cope. I fear it’s worse for Raj. As many of you know only too well, being the caregiver is as difficult as being the patient. You sometimes feel helpless as you don’t have the power to “fix” things, something that real men are naturally inclined to do. I feel guilty because there’s so little I can do and Raj is left to handle just about everything. To say I’m lucky to have such a loving and helpful partner is a gross understatement. As I’ve said before, I don’t know what I’d do without him.
And so we soldier on; Raj keeps my spirits up and makes me laugh. I’ve learned to be grateful for the smallest gifts we receive each day. Life is very different now – I used to hike and ski, now I need a walker and my gait is unsteady and my pace is slow. Still, I’m standing, and very grateful to God for that as well as a good number of other things.
My Norway maple is turning gold, my Sunset maple is turning crimson and my neighbor’s maple is turning very orange. Despite a very dry end of summer it looks as if we’re going to have a glorious fall after all. May we all enjoy the glorious, deal with the inglorious and revel in the messy business of living.
Speaking of the glorious: my sister-in-law took these pictures of the Northern lights from her farm in mid-Michigan two nights ago
Maybe not so impressive to those in the Aurora Borealis belt, but stunning to us Mid-westerners.
Raj and I are celebrating our 52nd anniversary today and feel lucky to be doing so. May everyone enjoy a quiet, peaceful day filled with loved ones, either in person or in memories.
The government makes a sandwich:
Despite technically including all the required elements of a sandwich it ends up an impressive feat of stupidity. useless for it’s original intent. And it only costs $219.99. I suppose it could be worse; it could be PB&J.
May all have a good week.
A brief history of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict:
In my business life when we ran into this type of non-negotiation-negotiation tactic we called it the “why don’t you give me your new car for one of my old shoes” strategy. You can’t make a deal if one party refuses to negotiate in good faith.
You would have an attitude too if somebody tied a big, pink satin bow around your neck.
What next? Pink sandwiches?
The world is a dangerous place. Let’s be careful out there.
Summer continues to trickle out.
Late summer fruits begin to trickle in.
Another season approaches and as usual we are not quite prepared.
Reason number 48 why Kamala has to distance herself from the administration where she’s been #2 for 3 3/4 years:
Building clean power for all your energy needs.
Kamala has more in common with Hillary than that annoying cackle and a closet full of multi-colored pant suits.
El Rushbo was the first to point out that the less Hillary talks the more people seem to like her. I’m sure he would agree that the same is true of Kamala and that’s one of the reasons she’s laying low.
Never the less she and her emotional support dog will be on CNN pretending to be interviewed tonight. I suggest you skip it.
Things to do with old typewriters:
Imagination is a wonderous thing. Except in the hands of Democrats, where it’s just lies.
Where all the women used to be strong, all the men used to be good looking and all of the children are still above average
I've had another brain MRI after much drama with the "tumor board" who couldn't agree on whether a spot in my brain was another cancer or the result of radiation necrology, aka "treatment damage." My neurosurgeon had the final word and has determined that it is ongoing radiation damage which is sort of like scar tissue of the brain. So for the time being that is very good news indeed, thank the Lord.
The bad news is that anything pressing on the brain causes damage similar to what a stroke might do. In my case the tumor was in the control center and has caused problems with walking, balance and coordination but given the sensitive location it could have been much worse. However, that and the fatigue I can’t shake along with a loss of weight and muscle mass has left me looking like a skeletor and rather useless at everything. All I can say is thank God for Raj. Anyway, I’m working on it slowly. I certainly don’t want to sit this election out even if I am only on the sidelines.
So thank you all for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers, they are working and my gratitude is endless.
By the way, I’ve determined that all Democrats and Kamala in particular suffer greatly form the Lake Wobegon Effect.