The first month of the year is gone. Finally. I don’t know why the people who put the calendar together made January last 97 days.
It’s Friday, the weekend approaches.
Tomorrow is Groundhog Day. Just a fair warning to the rodent, I have the recipe for Groundhog Stew right
where I can get to it.
Then Sunday is the Super Snax Bowl ™. I don’t have a favorite team. But, like most of America I’m rooting for whoever is playing they Patriots, just like I root for whoever plays Dallas the rest of the season.
We’ll watch the game for commercials and for Gladys Knight. I make no promises that I won’t change the channel to PBS to watch the next episode of Victoria. That’s what I did last week during Rent-not-really-so-live on FOX.
I have spent much of the week wondering if I need to jump back into the political fray. I don’t intend to. But sometimes it’s hard to be silent.
It’s the first day, of the second month, and I’m taking the weekend, or what time I have available in the weekend, do do a reassessment of where I am with the writing, with theater, with art.
I made some progress in January. Maybe not enough, but some.
But I’m still moving forward.
It’s been a wild week. Here in Virginia, a bill that would have legalized infanticide thankfully failed in the General Assembly. The supporters spent most of the rest of the week trying to justify the horrible things they said.
As the father of two boys who came early, and the husband of a mother who was very ill with both pregnancies, the very thought just sickens me.
As for those who tried to backpedal their comments this week?
A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.
I’m just going to leave that right where it is.