June in bloom

Temperature: a partly cloudy 20/68 degrees.

Eating: leftovers from yesterday's BBQ.

Drinking: on a Monday? No. 

Listening: to the sounds of summer. How I've missed you!

Watching: the garden come to life. How I've missed this!

Reading: or rereading Who Goes Nazi? by Dorothy Thompson.
 
Writing: I've got notes scribbled here and there and on whatever was at hand I need to go through to see what belongs where. Sounds messy? Not at all. There is a place for everything and everything will find its place. 

Thinking: sweet baby Jesus, this is not even beyond the realms of possibility. I'm sure they could think of something and simply fabricate the rest.

Feeling: Chekhovian, and I only have to think of my boys and everything I stand to lose to swing that way, the world being what it is, with things steadily sliding in the wrong direction, all things considered. Here we are, serving a joint life sentence on this common planet of ours, some surfing with a drink in one hand and zero fucks given in the other, others drowning in the rising tide or a mudslide, and I know Chekhov didn't coin the phrase it's not over till it's over, but even while grappling with eternal questions of the human condition and the sorrows and horrors that abound, his characters are loath to give up. Yes, it's a god-awful mess, but are we just gonna gawk at it or are we going to do what we can, like thinking, feeling, proactive people should. Lantern or candle or phone in hand, if that's all you have, which in darkness is plenty.

I said what I said

For the record: I left currently-known-as-X Twitter years ago and haven't posted since at https://x.com/ditaparker. I haven't been completely inactive or I guess the account would have been deleted years ago; there are people I root for and whose careers I follow I want to support by checking in on them regularly (more or less weekly). The last time I tried doing exactly that, this is what I got: "Sorry, you are not allowed to log in at this time." Oh. Okay. I checked what the account looks like on the web and this is what I got: "@DitaParker hasn’t posted. When they do, their posts will show up here." Huh? (Dita Parker had posted. Many many many times.) The account has been wiped clean. Well, not by me.

What the hell is going on, I'm sure I don't know. I'm not going to try to revive it. Not going to open new accounts there or anywhere else either; I'll make do. If it becomes active all of a sudden, it's not me. If I ever became active on Twitter again (sorry, it will forever be Twitter to me), I would let you know right here at the Den. (Unless this dies, too, which would mean there's some serious fuckery afoot.)

I have no plans to shut down the Den. If I do, I will let you know. If this blog disappears, something happened to it. If I go silent all of a sudden, something happened to me. And I don't mean some fuckery afoot scenario, let's keep things real, shall we; I mean life. Always unpredictable, never a dull moment. (Seriously, I'm never bored. How could you ever be bored on this planet?)

Be well, sweetie darlings, and shine on. Shine on.

If you had balls I'd kick 'em

Temperature: a sunny 16/61 degrees. It's been a dry spring. 

Eating: chocolate left over from Easter. It's been a long spring.

Drinking: Madeira wine. It's been that kind of spring.

Listening: to this year's Eurovision contenders yet? Yeah, I know. Many feel a cloud hangs over the contest, that it's not quite as joyous an occasion as it used to be. Silver linings: look at Linda Lampenius shine! Lampenius tried to warn other women about the predator Peter Nygård, and he went after her, viciously. I hope she feels vindicated and liberated and ready to own that stage like the professional, talented, experienced artist she is. And if Finland can't win, can Denmark? Kys mig, tag mit hjerte, knus det igen /Men please sig den her aften aldrig vil ende... And if you still haven't watched Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga and need a good laugh, maybe give it a try over the weekend?

Watching: hollow men run the world. Into the ground. Men hollow in their masculinity, men devoid of integrity, of morals, of values, of virtues, of principles.

Reading: The Nuremberg Women: The Untold Story of the Eight Women Who Brought the Nazis to Justice by Natalie Livingstone ASAP.
 
Writing: to remain sane.

Thinking: Imagine there were millions upon millions of files worth of evidence, with video and audio attached, regarding the sex trafficking, sexual abuse, torture and murder of minors, and the AG and the DOJ went, Yeah, we're not gonna be looking into that.

Feeling: Do you have time to talk about the miracle and misery of perimenopause? Some other time then.

Will you accept this🌹

...in exchange for a book? Yours, or a recommendation? To celebrate Saint George's/World Book Day, which is tomorrow, and in honor of Earth Day, which is today?

Els dracs no em fan por si estic amb tu. Feliç Sant Jordi! 

And proactive Earth Day, dearest denizens. 🌸

It was a brimstone

“As everyone knows, if the first butterfly you see is yellow the summer will be a happy one. If it is white then you will just have a quiet summer. Black and brown butterflies should never be talked about – they are much too sad.”

Finn Family Moomintroll (1948)