the easter chicken

Back when I was a kid, it was not uncommon to go out and buy something tiny and colored that was alive, like a chick or a bunny. They usually lasted about three days until somebody forgot to feed them. It was fun! New life is always fun, no matter what species you're playing with. Yesterday I looked at things from the point of view of my tiny nephew with the glowing eyes and big grin and caught myself acting all kinds of fool. I love the freshness of pure play with no agenda, and kids and old people are about the only ones who do that. He plopped his little butt down on the porch in front of Daddy and proceeded to munch on an apple like he had been there all of his young life. It makes Aunt Poopie proud:)

For the first time in a very LONG time, I am worried about our safety as a nation, simply because anarchy seems to be in vogue and you can't fix stupid. A house divided will fall, and unless Congress backs off on the partisan shit we're all screwed. Cool it already folks....it's not about your party or your income. There are people serving and dying in other countries because they believe in what we stand for. Instead, we dish over money to drug czars and take in the poverty that results from that action. What the hell ever happened to Mr. Smith?????????

NAFTA was the death of this country as a place where honest hard working people could make a decent living supplying the needs of their own. Instead, corporations continue putting plants in countries where the people are poor and work cheap. Like you know where. Bullshit. That's what I say about it. We must all become more self sufficient in ways that count, like preserving energy and going green. Our government pays the American farmer NOT to grow things because they import them from somewhere else cheaper. You won't find me suiting up to fight the feds or even pretending to threaten to. I'm the silent one you've got to worry about. The one who listens to news and discusses politics and knows who a candidate is as a person, not just as a member of a party. You can call it the poopie party, for all I care. We are the ones who have worked all our lives only to see what we have worked for and been promised disappear into thin air when a bunch of bankers got rich and moved to Fiji with their girlfriends.

Enough with the rant. Ya'll go hunt some easter eggs and don't forget to feed the pink chicken.

^j^