ICEcycles

 

Day by Day

It may appear my life revolves around....

cats

and kitchen.

 Appearances, in this case, do not lie.

Think About It

 Not my words. Every bit my belief.

ROBERT L ARNOLD

On E Pluribus Unum

When Mike Madrid talks about E Pluribus Unum, I listen. That hasn’t always been true for everyone I’ve encountered in politics, but it’s true with him. Over time, through conversation, observation, and the simple act of paying attention, I’ve come to deeply respect his clarity, his honesty, and his refusal to flatten complicated truths into convenient talking points. Mike will tell you the phrase is better understood not as “from many, one,” but as from plurality, union.

 

And I should be clear here, for the sake of intellectual honesty and a little comedic humility… I am outright stealing that framing for this essay. Borrowing it heavily. Lifting it with affection. If this were a song, he’d already be owed a writing credit and a bourbon.

 

But I can’t leave good words alone. I’m stubborn, needy, maybe even a little crazy. So once Mike planted that idea in my head, I ouldn’t stop turning it over in my hands like a coin worn smooth by time, trying to feel what it must have meant when they first wrote it.

 

Imagine Franklin, Madison, and Jefferson in a cramped Philadelphia room, the summer heat clinging to them like guilt. They’re young… too young, maybe… ink-stained dreamers and philosophical arsonists trying to build a republic out of smoke and argument. Did they know what they were doing? Did they feel the weight of it? Or were they just giving it their best shot, thinking, if it breaks, we’ll fix it and keep going.

 

Maybe that’s the point.

Maybe that’s the real American creed.

 

To most of the world, we look arrogant. And maybe we are. But my favorite version of America has always been the one that rises from the dirt with a spark of defiance in its eye. The “the hell I won’t” version. The “hold my beer while we stomp out fascism” version. We are messy, hot-tempered, loud, and often wrong. We are descendants of firebrands, dirt farmers, dreamers, and drunks who thought they could make something holy out of ordinary people. And damned if they didn’t.

 

The plurality of Americans is a wild symphony… a thousand discordant notes that somehow, when it matters most, find harmony. That’s the real miracle. Not perfection. Not purity. But union. The kind of union that only exists when the storm hits and someone yells, “Hold the line.”

 

We are many colors, many creeds, many contradictions. We are Baptist and Buddhist, farmer and coder, miner and musician, sinner and saint. And yet, when we are truly threatened… not just politically inconvenienced but spiritually tested… something ancient and electric moves through us. Our divisions blur. Our blood remembers.

 

Because E Pluribus Unum was never about sameness. It was about choosing to belong to one another anyway.

 

We forget that sometimes. We let them sell us fear and call it patriotism. We let them pit us against our neighbors and convince us that anger is easier than empathy. But when the house starts to burn, none of that matters anymore. We reach for the same hose. We pull each other from the same flames. I believe we still have that in us. 

 

So yes, Mike is right of course, it really is from plurality … union. But I think it might be something deeper still. I think it’s a promise… that when we are pushed too far, when they try to rule us instead of represent us, our divided hearts will remember their rhythm. And when one bleeds, we all bleed.

 

And when that day comes… when the people of this fractured country stand shoulder to shoulder again and say, enough… no tyrant, no party, no self-crowned king will be able to stop what’s coming.

 

Because that’s America. Not the flag. Not the anthem. Not the marble halls of power.

But the spark that catches in the chest of the common people when they remember what they were born to be.

 

Out of many, one.

Out of pain, purpose.

Out of fear, fire.

 

And that fire… is coming.

Onward

Mark had an online CPE (continuing professional education) yesterday and, of course, his computer was uncooperative. I set it up on mine, meaning I was offline, other than the phone, all of Tuesday. He will be buying a new computer, which is a whole other story.

This is Tuesday morning's sky. It was even more dramatic in person.

Aggression on the part of ICE is ramping up. There seems to be a propensity for people being dragged from their vehicles. It's very thoughtful of the Supreme Leader to encourage Iranians to continue the protests, isn't it?

Have a lovely day. It's cold here.

Another Day

Saturday was my birthday. I made myself a blueberry galette topped with an extra spoonful of whipped cream.

I haven't been feeling particularly chatty. Neighbor Bill did stop by Saturday morning with a birthday card. His wife makes cards and does a beautiful job. I display them for awhile and always keep them. They are too nice and thoughtful to recycle. Other than that it was a quiet day. Mark offered to pick up dinner but I said no. I had bought steelhead trout and had plans to steam that. Which I did. We don't eat out. That started after I got too busy on the farm and was not interested in showering and getting dressed again. Nope. Showering and pajamas, thank you. Now? No interest. I'm a lively sort.

Timely

I am not a science nerd. That said, I find myself interested in studies of the brain. I was on a forum in the 2000s, Midwest Horse Talk. It was my first exposure to a large group of people who believed what they believed no matter what the evidence was against it. It fascinated me while leaving me confused. Eventually I learned not to engage because nothing broke through. In the mid 2000s I came upon an article about a research study of the brain and the reaction differences between self-identified conservatives and self-identified liberals. I started to get it. I learned to not argue. To state a verifiable truth or an opinion, yes. But no arguing a point. 

I don't remember what study I saw all those years ago. There are many out there. I post this one because it is more understandable than many, which are mostly in scientific jargon. It's here if anyone is interested in this stuff.  

https://psychiatryonline.org/doi/10.1176/appi.neuropsych.16030051

Thought For The Day

 

Cruel. Abusive. Unacceptable

Mark went to the funeral of his Aunt Marlys on Saturday. She was married to one of his triplet uncles who proceeded her in death. This was on the back of the funeral program. She was an extremely kind, caring person. She was diligent in her help and care of the needy, not only here, but in other countries. She lived her faith.

I decided to post this here, on the day a woman was murdered in South Minneapolis by an ICE agent. Agent sounds not right. An ICE thug. He shot her in the face as she was driving away from them. He shot her in the face multiple times.The excuse is she tried to run them down. Fortunately, there is video and many witnesses. I have seen the video. It was murder. Her vehicle was parked across the road, the agents got out of the truck and approached her. One grabbed the door and told her to "get the fuck out of the car". She pulled out from where she was with wheels clearly turned away from them. There was no one in front of her vehicle. The guy who ordered her out shot her through the driver's window.

What have we become? How is it ok to have masked people in military garb, carrying weapons swarming our streets? Is this what one would expect in a free, democratic country? It eerily looks like a militant autocracy. No this is not "Trump Derangement Syndrome" on my part. This is in your face public brutality. The type of operations one would find in the countries with rulers. Totalitarian rulers. I am ashamed. I am deeply saddened.

Isn't Everyday Cat Day?

Born in the barn....

......found sofas to be more comfy than hay bales.

 Can't blame them.

Quietude

We had a quiet day. Mark got the stalls cleaned. I got dinner prepped. I did say it was a quiet day.

I had a brisket in the oven for a few hours. Yes, under the onions there is a beef brisket. The onions absorbed all of the goodness as the brisket slowly cooked. I never tire of wonderful slow-cooked winter meals.

Now another year begins. 2025 was unstable and unsettling. Will we be turning a page? Ever hopeful. We do what we can and we appreciate what we have. I appreciate all of you. May it be a good year.

Another Year

Happy New Year

 Sing It Loud