Does My Vote Count?

  So I voted yesterday. Or I guess what I actually did was slid my completed ballot into the local dropbox. I'm not a particularly political person. That doesn't mean that I don't have definitive views on how our government should be run and where we could use a little (or a lot) improvement. I try hard to keep all of the current political discord out of my everyday life. The hostility that seems to permeate all things political, especially around election time, is something that I don't want pervading my mind. Not to say that my head is in the proverbial sand regarding this election. I do my best (good citizen that I am) to educate myself about the who's and what's and why's of the current governmental situation. Finding good, unbiased, truthful information is proving to be more difficult, but that's a subject for another day.

I honestly don't know what the results of this election will do to our country. Everything seems so divided and hostile. Sometimes I even wonder if my vote really counts? Oh, I know that voting is both my responsibility as well as my right as a citizen. I exercise that right with a certain amount of patriotic pride. And yet there is also a sense of embarrassment that nags at me when I consider how far we have departed from the Founding Father's intentions for governing this country.  

So does my vote count? Maybe.

Which got me thinking. What can I do, besides casting my vote, that can help create the kind of America that I believe in? The kind of country where there is true freedom and where each individual has the inalienable right to live according to their beliefs?

With my pocketbook. That's what I can do to promote my ideals. How and where I spend my money is where my power lies.  

How many of us spend time perusing the internet in search of "stuff"? It's easy. It's relatively quick. And without leaving the comfort of our homes we are able to find a multitude of options for whatever thing we happen to be looking for. Oh, I love me some online shopping!

But at whose expense is my congenial shopping experience?

Down the rabbit hole I go....

So, just as it's simple and easy to shop online, it's also easy to research the companies and conglomerates that we are buying from. Are you buying from a company that doesn't align with your ideology about life? What about their practices and treatment of employees? Can you say "sweatshop"? How about their political affiliations and contributions? Is it in agreement with how you vote or are you turning a blind eye and deaf ear because it's saving you $1.57?  

Recently I did a little fact-finding into Amazon. Since the corona debacle, I have utilized the ease of Amazon shopping way more than usual. Probably like millions of other Americans. Ugh. What I've discovered is that the founder/owner of Amazon is contributing to causes that I am opposed to. Not only that but when I buy from Amazon I am potentially taking business away from a more local, privately-owned company.

 How have I not considered any of this before? I suppose because I'm "busy" and I like a good deal. Blah. That's no excuse!  

Then I started looking into the affiliation of many other stores that I frequently patronize. Hmm. Not so good. Again, how did I so easily just hand over my money to something that was so contradictory to my principles?

Baaaa.

With this Christmas season quickly approaching, I know that I will NOT be shopping through Amazon. Or Target. Or a lot of other stores. Sure, I might still shop online but I will be looking for a smaller, hopefully more local business that sources its products domestically. I want my money to support a business that aligns with me, creates jobs for Americans, and that produces a product with American materials.  

Is this a tall order? Maybe. But I'm going to put my money where my mouth is and give it a go.

Ho Ho Ho

 Not THAT kind of ho....let me preface this post with that disclaimer.  (Seems like my moral character has been questioned as of late and it was just too perfect to use that title! 😆)

Back before the fire, I had sent Jon to the old house to bring home our boxes of holiday decorations.  His car is small so he wasn't able to fit all the boxes in the trunk.  No worries.  We really just needed the fall/Halloween decorations.  We could go back and pick up the Christmas stuff another time.  

Yeah, that didn't quite work out as anticipated.  

We've sifted through the rubble a few times, finding the occasional recognizable (though charred) memories.  A piece of the nativity set here, a teacup there, maybe a shard of glass that was once a Christmas ornament.  The handmade stockings are gone.  So are the silly ornaments each kid had created through the years. A few special, one of a kind ornaments are also gone forever. All the Christmas books I had collected,  just ashes now.  The entire mismatched, motley collection of stuff, gone.

Well, damn.

So last night Jake and I walked next door to his parent's house to visit with his brother, Jed and his wife, Julie.  (Two Julies?!?  Confusing, but awesome!)  I was so happily surprised to find boxes of Christmas decorations waiting for me.  Really.  Boxes of stuff!  Jed and Julie had put together the "Pennick/Summers Christmas Starter Kit" to help offset our loss.  

I could've cried.  Something so insignificant as compared to other people's losses, yet still so paramount in our lives.  Their thoughtfulness and generosity made my heart happy.  Very, very happy.  Sarah was so excited sorting through those boxes, commenting on how some things were similar to what we had  lost, but even cooler. 

So thank you, even you, Jed, for the great surprise.  I love you guys!

#doublebucklemeJed

Some Times You Just Gotta Cut Them Down.

I spent the day in the mountains yesterday.  Or the hills, if you'd rather.   Jake, Sarah, his parents, and I went up to their mountain to meet with the logger who will be cutting their burned timber.  We had a lovely picnic and spent the afternoon sorting through the rubble, rescuing any items we were lucky enough to find.  Some of us exercised our logging skills and cut wood.  That would not include me.

It really was a nice way to spend a Saturday.

Bittersweet though.  To look around and take in the destruction that surrounded us was heartbreaking.  To see the loss of property and the ugly, burnt scar of the landscape is rough.  This place was a respite from the "real world" and the beauty and peacefulness there were palpable.  As we sat at the picnic table (which made it through the fire!) eating our sandwiches, we all, silently, considered which trees would remain and which trees must be culled.  I'm sure each one of us reflected on how different things would be from here on out.  

But then as I walked among the burned out stumps and piles of ashy fir needles, I saw bits of green poking through the forest floor.  Fern fronds were unfurling.  Sorrel was growing in its clumpy patches.  Blackberries were everywhere!  There were even new leaves on the apple trees.  

This place would recover.  And it would be beautiful again.

Jake and I have spent hours looking at pictures and plans of cabins.  He has ideas to improve on how things were before the fire.  I know his parents have been searching for their own updated version of a cabin as well.   I think we are all feeling optimistic and maybe even a little excited at the prospect of how this mountain will look in the future.  Yes, it will look different but different isn't necessarily bad.  

That mountain was beautiful before the fire.  And, like everything in life, sometimes things beyond our control force us to transform our reality.  Just like with burned up trees.  You can't save or hold on to them.  Sometimes you just gotta cut them down and replant.  And there will be beauty in both the process and the end result.  

 

A Ramble

 On the eve of my birthday I suppose I shall ramble for a bit.

I'm currently drinking a mug of coffee on our back patio.  I do this almost every morning, rain or shine.  From my vantage point I can see the cows milling about in the field below our yard and the Friday morning traffic driving on the highway.  I can see my large, albeit failed, corn patch (WORST corn ever!) and our fruit trees, still loaded with ripened fruit.  There's my garden and my flowers and an assortment of pretty rocks that we have both brought to this house.  I can hear the washer humming along inside and the birdsong this morning is the usual cacophony of noise.  There's no breeze and it's just chilly enough to warrant a robe and slippers out here.  The day ahead holds the promise of excitement and fun with my dearest girlfriend; massages, a little shopping, a little day drinking.  And later tonight holds the promise of a weekend filled with hunting, cheesecake, and family.  Amongst other things.

Do you know what's missing?  

What's missing is agitation and distress.  There is not conflict hiding in the wings anymore.  There are no people who I must avoid.  No, what I feel is a deep peace and contentment this morning.

And man, that is a relatively foreign feeling for me!

This past year has brought lots of changes into my life.  Actually into all of our lives.  Sometimes it's uncomfortable and hard.  Kinda like gardening.  You get dirty and it's physically hard and the weeding seems to never end.  But in the end, you get to harvest.  I believe that gardening of any kind keeps a person honest.  There's always something to humble you (like corn!) and there's always a lesson to be learned from the garden itself.  And, you're often at the mercy of things beyond your control.  You just have to stay committed and put in the work.

I really, really love this life we are making.  I love this house and how we are making it ours together.  I am thankful for the influence that Jake has on us.  His wisdom and insight amaze me daily.  Wickedly smart, that guy!  Watching my kids grow and become their own people is the most rewarding feeling (frustrating too!) as well.    

I used to dread getting older.  I also used to dread change.  Probably because I wanted to stay in a place that was familiar to me, even if it was painfully so.  Having to relearn things or restructure or replace was an exhausting, daunting idea for me.

Now I look ahead and am not afraid.  I'm rather excited at the prospect of going down my path now.