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Dear People With Whom I Don’t Agree:

I appreciate you. I mean that sincerely. I keep you in my social media feeds so that I don’t fall into the echo chamber.

If you are an angry elf, I tend to scroll on by. But if you present an honest viewpoint with evidence, I pay attention.

For example, there is a blogger I follow who is an actress, speaker, author, pro-life Catholic conservative, and I am … not. Still, I read her posts because she has a strong voice, a firm handle on what she believes and why, and often posts yummy-sounding recipes.

She posts more political posts than I do, as she regularly relates her faith to current events. In her latest post, she wasn’t very happy about Biden winning, as her No. 1 voting motivation seems to be the abortion issue. Yet, she advocated patience and tolerance.

Huh.

That’s interesting because when I posted a comment, not only did she not respond, but she deleted it. (Or so it appeared on my end as it was there one moment and gone a few minutes later.)

My comment?

I appreciate your pro-life stance. We are all pro life, really. No one is psyched to get an abortion. It’s a last resort for so many. No one is “pro abortion.” I think we can agree: The goal is to reduce abortions. How do we do that? As we’ve seen with prohibition and the “war on drugs,” making them illegal won’t work. People will find a way, but it makes it very dangerous for women. So to me, the solution is to put more money into sex education, healthcare and contraception.

I’m passionately pro choice and pro life. These are not mutually exclusive. I am adopted, so obviously I’m thrilled my birth mother chose to have me.

But it’s her blog, and she can do what she wants.

My philosophy is to accept all comments (even if they are offensive) and like and/or respond to each.

As everyone knows, I love a good debate. My views don’t fit neatly into existing political parties’ platforms, so I do my research and vote for the individual rather than party affiliation.

No politician is going to be perfect. No human is perfect. And we can’t agree all the time. No need to be nasty about it.

A friend I’ve had for 30 years texted me to tell me she’s unfollowing me from Facebook. It wasn’t rude; it was matter of fact and funny to me because it was so strait forward.

She’s got loads going on in her life and doesn’t want to read anything political. I would say that day-to-day living IS political, but that’s not her POV as she has the luxury of not having to deal with some of the things many others do every day. But she does have to deal with other things, so I get it.

But writing and talking about things is how I make sense of the world. So I’m going to keep on reading and responding to others. It’s important to me especially if I don’t agree.

Keep up the good work!
Beth

 

 

 

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Dear 2021,

I hope you are better than 2020. (2020 can suck it.)

I’m not one for resolutions. I usually declare things I won’t do or won’t give up. Just to be contrary. (Look. Listen. Give me this one rebellious thing. That’s about the only one!)

For kicks, I decided to look back at last year’s list.

Here are the things I declared I would not do, along with the result:

  • Keep makeup I don’t wear. Coral lipstick is not for pale people like me, and frosty pink is for preteens. Success: I ditched so much crap this year.
  • Retain books on my Kindle I won’t read.A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments” by David Foster Wallace is a supposedly fun read that is not. Byeeee! Success: I purged my Kindle and did not add any books. Of course, I didn’t read a single book either.
  • Put up with less than I need/deserve/worked for, etc. I am not a “Welcome!” mat. Mixed progress: I occasionally washed other people’s dishes and clothes, but I got better about calmly explaining what was bothering me.
  • Save money. Yeah, I know I should, but let’s be honest: I won’t. Success: I didn’t.
  • Stay home. I want to say “absof–kinlutely” to adventures near and far. Dream scenario: I get paid to write about it. Fail: I think we all know what happened this year.
  • Continue procrastinating on my book. This is the year I finish it, write the proposal, and find an agent. If E.L. James can become rich and famous off her trash Twilight fan fiction work, so can I. Fail: I did absolutely no work on it. Lack of motivation, thy name is COVID-19.
  • Lose more than just five more pounds. I’m calling that my “wine cushion.” Success: I found a few pounds more of me. Pandemic pounds FTW!
  • Stay in this place with the small kitchen. When it’s a pain to make things as fairly easy as Scotch eggs, it’s time to upgrade. Success: We moved to a larger place with a slightly larger kitchen.
  • Ignore show suggestions from certain like-minded people. I resisted watching “Killing Eve.” I was stupid. Success: I’m even taking suggestions from randos on Twitter. I’ve got some issues with “Bridgerton.” Who wants to chat about it with me?
  • Let people try to make me feel even slightly embarrassed about my love of bad taxidermy. Those uptight people can shove it. My obsession is Hando approved. Success: I let my freak flag fly this year to positive results.
  • Vote for Trump. Duh. Success: Duh.
  • Stop writing blog posts at least twice a week. I’ve been keeping this pace since April, so I’m pretty proud of myself. Success-ish: I was doing well until the holidays. I blame Netflix. 

In 2021, I will not:

  • Take for granted the ability to hug friends, see a movie in a theater, see live music, eat in a restaurant, travel, go out without a mask, work out at the gym, etc.
  • Take for granted physical mobility. (This was the year I broke my ankle and damaged my rotator cuff. So that’s been fun.)
  • Lament a packed schedule of in-person meetings.
  • Ever get off political mailing lists, apparently.
  • Be able to wear real shoes again without dealing with discomfort. (I wore flip flops for six months straight.)
  • Stop calling out people for being stupid.
  • Change my Alexa voice from Samuel L. Jackson. Having him curse at me when I ask him to set a timer gives me LIFE!

I reserve the right to add to this list.

Hoping for the best,
Beth

 

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Dear God,

My mother said she prayed to you that I would have a child just like me. I recognized that as a threat by an aggravated woman.

You delivered.

But I think you went too far.

I had common sense, at least.

Dominic does not have common sense.

Here’s why I know this to be true:

1. The exchange below. Context: I set up a new Google Voice number for students in my class to use. I asked the family to test it.

2. The fact that he came into my bedroom at 9:30 Thursday night holding a package of turkey bacon without the packaging. That’s right: 10 or so strips of bacon in his bare hands.

Him: I opened the refrigerator, and this fell out onto the floor.

Me, stunned: Well, don’t bring it naked and dripping INTO MY BEDROOM!

I wish I had taken a photo. I was too revolted at him turkey touching everything to think about that.

He does make up for it by making me laugh with things like this:

And remember our Rock City visit? This is how he ruined an artsy shot I was trying to take:

Yes, that’s his shoe. 🙄

This kid.

So thanks, I guess, for giving me Dominic in all his glory.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Dear People Who Visited Chattanooga Last Weekend:

I will not be surprised AT ALL when you get the ‘Rona. You took no precautions. I was, quite frankly, horrified.

Yes, we visited too, but we took ample precautions:

  1. We stayed in our four-person bubble.
  2. We stayed at a reputable hotel.
  3. We wore masks everywhere but the hotel room and the car.
  4. We washed our hands and sanitized ourselves regularly.

You, however, did NOT do all of those things.

Example 1: Dinner Friday night

After we went to see a movie (yes, in a theater for the first time since February*), we went to Big River Grille for our reservation. We ran a gauntlet featuring about 15 unmasked people around the door.

I felt like a celebrity on a perp walk trying to avoid paparazzi.

Then the hostess tried to sit us in a booth next to another group. My back would have been six inches from some stranger’s back.

NO, THANK YOU.

See Rock City’s sanitizing stations.

Example 2: Ruby Falls on Sunday

There were about a thousand signs saying Ruby Falls is a TOUCH-FREE CAVE. Not only is it bad for the stalagmites and stalactites (oils from human hands keep the formations from growing) but CORONAVIRUS, HELLO!

Our very-loud guide must have said “no touching” 437 times. Every single time, a guy in the group in front of us could not help himself. He touched EVERYTHING.

Sigh.

So I will not be surprised at all when you start coughing or lose your sense of taste or smell, etc.

We, however, will remain COVID free.

See? Masks. No touching.

Hoping I’m wrong about your chances,
Beth

*Matinee, no one there, wearing masks, sanitizing everything we touched

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Dear Friends and Family,

Though this year has sucked in ways large and small, I’m thankful for all of you. I have big emotions regarding a few of you, but I’ll save that for a later post.

On this day of Thanksgiving (glossing over the actual horrific origins of this celebration), I’m thankful for small things (in no particular order):

  • Apothic Red for just $10
  • Jeans that fit
  • Fozzy
  • Gideon’s eclectic taste in music
  • Dominic’s dry comments
  • Eddie’s workout habits
  • Purple nail polish
  • Massage therapy
  • Airpods
  • Uno
  • Alexa (but not Siri, sorry)
  • Twitter
  • Apple Music
  • FaceTime, Skype, What’s App, Zoom and Houseparty
  • Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime and Disney Plus
  • I have spoken.”
  • Bubble tea
  • Gus’s chicken
  • Writing ability
  • Cooking skills
  • That I can drive a stick shift
  • Ancestry.com
  • The election is over (It is. For real, Donnie.)
  • Saturday Night Live
  • The Amazing Race
  • Jersey Shore Family Vacation
  • Rollerball pens
  • Fleetwood Mac
  • Panhandle Slim
  • Frequent flier miles that don’t expire
  • Friends who invite me over just to drink
  • People who have given me a chance to grow as a person and a professional
  • The fact that the first “Happy Thanksgiving” texts I received were from the moms of my sons’ friends (three of them!)
  • A balcony with lounge chairs and good Atlanta weather so I can be outside
  • Fellow bloggers (like this one and this one)
  • The cute but not functional scarf Goat-yoga Lisa made me

Adorable, right? In the background is the not-cute-but-functional blanket I made.

For what are you thankful? Tell me in the comments.

All my love,
Beth

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Dear Gideon,

You and I are two of a kind. I always forget just how much until we take a car trip together.

You made a playlist for the trip. Of course you did.

In addition to the expected trap crap you and Dominic like, you pulled out The Monkees, The Beatles and Tears for Fears.

Also NEIL DIAMOND.

“Sweet Caroline.” Sweet Jesus!

I couldn’t believe it.

We bah bah bahhhhed loudly down I-75. It was great.

Our bladders got full at the same time.

We chose the same flamin’ hot snacks.

We reached for the Clorox wipes at the same time.

When we got to where we were going, we both had to unpack right away.

We ordered basically the same meal at the barbecue place.

Then we both died at Wal-Mart when I was trying to drive the electric cart.

Sexy, I know.

I’m sorry for nearly mowing you down all those times. I’ve never used one of these things before.

At least you always knew where I was thanks to the beeping. (Like a bell on a cat collar.)

Anyway, I’m glad to be spending quality time with you again.

Love,
Mama

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Here’s Mary, all fancy feasting on cat treats.

Dear TLC:

Thanks for running a marathon of “My Strange Addiction” last night. My strange addiction is “My Strange Addiction” (among other shows of its ilk). And it hasn’t been on in ages.

I thought it was a new season, but apparently I just stumbled across episodes I hadn’t seen. (Not sure how that is possible, but yay for me.)

On days when that hypocrite Mitch McConnell is rushing through a SCOTUS pick in an election year, the United States is leading in world COVID-19 cases, and the U.S. president is actually tweeting that certain states are “going to hell” and thus he should be re-elected (odd logic here, no?), there’s something satisfying about the simplicity of a weird habit.

Granted, certain habits can have consequences.

Mary’s cat food addiction has led to anemia and high blood pressure. The doctor’s suggestion (I’m paraphrasing): Start eating people food. (Duh.)

Alicia has been smelling mothballs for 15 years. (Yuck.) Her conversation with a friend (I’m paraphrasing again):

Him: Have you read the warnings on this box?

Her: No, I can’t see that fine print. (Um, yeah, because the mothball sniffing is damaging her vision.)

Him: It says that you shouldn’t inhale them.

Her: I’m not inhaling. I’m just smelling.

Him: (Head explodes)

Riley lives life as an adult baby. She wears diapers 24 hours a day, yet wonders why she isn’t in a relationship.

By watching someone else’s bizarre reality, it somehow makes my (fairly normal) reality easier to bear.

The country is a dumpster fire. People are dying. Certain leaders refuse to see how they are complicit in that or change their behavior.

All I can do is vote and champion my candidates. (And you can bet I will.)

In the meantime, thank you for providing what I consider to be escapist content.

Keep up the good work!

Beth

 

 

 

 

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Dear Tony, Spike, Ulysses, Rolfe, Verna and friends,

I found out this week that you likely will be leaving me soon to go to Mexico.

That makes me sad, but I understand. You have places to go and other people to see.

I know I’ll see you in the spring.

I’ll miss you. I’ll leave the feeder up just in case anyone still around needs a snack. (Suddenly I’m thinking of that Motel 6 commercial.)

Thanks for visiting.

Your friend,
Beth

* Thanks to Dale Evans and Roy Rogers.

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Dear Eddie,

Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.

Yikes.

One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”

Yeah. What she said.

The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.

I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.

It can be summed up in two photos:

This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.

Clearly the same sense of humor.

In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.

We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.

Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.

Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.

In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.

Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.

We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.

Your face says it all.

Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!

Happy anniversary!

Love,
Beth

*Thanks, Paul Simon.

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Dear Gideon:

It’s true that Dominic is more like me when it comes to wit and personality, but you and I are more alike in terms of things we like to do.

For example, we share a love of the outdoors and a certain level of redneckery.

Thank you for going with me on one last state park trip before “school” (such as it is during COVID times) begins Monday.

The trip had everything we needed:

  • An adorable cabin
  • An adorable cabin that had a kitchen (Mama doesn’t play with cook stoves.)
  • An adorable cabin that had a kitchen and a proper bed (Mama is too old to be in a sleeping bag with tree roots digging into her spine.)
  • Fred’s “Famous” Boiled Peanuts just down the road apiece
  • River tubing
  • Hiking trails
  • A waterfall
  • A lake on which we could kayak
  • A town that tries its best to be the Bavaria of the South
  • Moon pies in a medley of flavors
  • Outdoor dining where we could load up on loaded tater tots (and feel our arteries leaden)

The trip also had things we didn’t need:

  • People without masks
  • Pickled pigs’ feet
  • A ridiculously tight valve on the kayak that made it nearly impossible to deflate (Luckily, Mama can charm passing fellow rednecks.)
  • The loaded tots (Seriously.)

It’s funny to me your brother was bent out of shape and jealous when we got back. I invited him. He didn’t want to go. As usual.

Dominic: I thought you were just going for a day. I didn’t know it was an overnight trip.
Me: You didn’t listen. I tried to tell you about the cool cabin, but you weren’t having it.

Anyway, I enjoyed spitting cherry pits off the balcony with you while we listened to Alan Jackson (in true redneck fashion).

I hope you’ll do things like this with your kids if you ever have them. Or at least remember these times when I’m old(er) and (more) decrepit and unable to haul a deflated kayak up and down a hill.

Love,
Mama

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