A while back, when we were feeling less frivolous (we being me, of course, your subtlest rudder), before spring was in our crosshairs, and we were being dazzled by daffodils and the hope of warm nights and neglected jackets, I wrote a post about, oh, politics, I guess. (Perhaps screed is a better word? Or invocation?) Whatever it was, that was back when I was being all thoughtful (thoughtful and silly seem to be our two operating speeds), while these days, I find myself as serious as a sack of kittens.
I was reminded of my earlier post, because the same words that have been taped to my monitor through five years and two houses came across my screen in needlepoint form, like a dire reminder from A-Linc:
And don’t let the homespun swoops disguise the slicing knife. While the Obamas just wooed the world with some American exceptionalism we can believe in, the opposition is manning the embattlements and calving off crazies who play shoot ’em up in places where people get stuck: nursing homes; immigration centers; churches, even. And the economy, still she craters, although we’re a nation of blessedly short attention spans: Our dollars flow out the bottoms of our pockets, but have you seen the daffodils? Tra and la, and any day now, we shall wear the bottoms of our trousers rolled.
Still, it’s near-spring and the snow will stop falling soon (I make no such promise about the sky). So listen to the mermaids singing, each to each, and go on: dare to eat a peach.