A favorite café in Cave Spring, GA. I feel like I used to feel after I got a spanking when I was a child. Maybe it's my own fault. I have been engaging with the Christian Far Right, and I usually scroll on by. I don't know why I felt the need to speak up, a couple of them let me know that I was welcome to shut up. I am trying to think of other things to think about so that I don't keep re-running the unpleasantness in my mind myself. One guy mentioned background checks for people who speak, which spooked me. I wouldn't pass a background check I don't think, and there is nothing in that set of records to explain that I was having trouble with my medication. So having said all I can think of to say, I am at peace and quiet. These people are all friends of my missionary relative, who I mentioned in my previous post. I guess I feel it was nice of him to let me speak, even if his friends were rude. Another cousin of mine posted her Charlton Heston two-cents-worth, and it was in responding to her that I realised there is no one I trust with a gun. I didn't realise this before. I always think of my Dad, who was Army. He's a Trump supporter and a gruff one at that. But with him, I am just always reminded that he does take good care of my brother and me and we don't usually get into politics unless I'm having dinner at his house. He knows I'm a Democrat though, and he doesn't go as far as he might to change my mind, in person. And I always catch a ride with him to the voting station. I know that I would never change his mind, no matter what I said, and I guess it's the same with all of them, though I'm pretty sure my Dad wouldn't ask me to shut up. The few times I have offered what turned out to be an opposing view to him, he has taken his time explaining to me his point of view.
I would like to paint some more, but I am waiting for some to dry so that I have room. I'm a little out of practice, and at that, trying something new to me, and I don't think I was careful enough blending in the medium, which usually means a faster dry. But it has given me some time to think about color, and I want to explore colors I usually don't use. I have a couple of ideas for yellow and gold anyway. I miss my painting though, I used it to take a break from Facebook, which once again, I think I could use. I get an array of news feeds on there, and I love to read - I used to work at a newspaper in London writing headlines and captions. I wasn't so good at it actually, unless it was straight news, but I was good at pulling out quotes, which I also had to do. Actually, I'm glad I don't do that any more, I just think it's kind of exhausting. I'm a little burnt out. I am surprised at the time. I am not ready for Christmas, but my mom is coming up so it should be fun. She only stays two days, which is fine, because my brother and I get tired easily, as neither of us are used to visitors. I think she buys too many presents, though, because I hear the rest of the story throughout the year regarding her modest income. Since I knew she would have to put something under the tree for me, I asked for a sock monkey, which is not that expensive, but I have been hinted at by her that there will be more. I feel we're too old for presents, and for me, there is nothing I need. This year I am spending more than usual on her - I am framing a photograph I took. I had done this before and threw it in the trash after I gave it to her. So I'm trying to replace that. I can pay for it, but it means I have nothing to spare until February. I'll have to keep putting off that Billie Holiday collection I have my eye on at Amazon... which is fine.
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