A Penguin's Paradise....

Hi


Soooooo, Mueller.

Here is what I surmised from his testimony.


This is a guy who obviously would have rather been having the insides of his eyelids waxed.


He is pretty much incapable of inserting his opinion, which kind of flies in the face of the whole vengeance conspiracy thing.

He is kind of a fact spitter, refusing to insert emotion.

He is exactly the kind of person you would want in charge of something like this.

I know nothing really all that new came to light, nothing that wasn't in the report, but so many haven't read it, it probably was the first time some were hearing the truth.

Of course, the delusion king of the White House once again began to spout off some altered version of what did and didn't happen.

I can't help but wonder what his book reports must have looked like in school.


To Kill A Mocking Bird - A version wherein Tom Robinson really was guilty...

Harry Potter - About a school that should never have let the half-bloods in.

The Outsiders - A virtual DIY of good decisions.

Lord of the Flies - A Happy camping adventure

Animal Farm - A bible.

Little Women - well... I'll just let that one sit there...


Gaslighting... google it

Countless interviews, indictments, convictions, Mueller doesn't have a dog in the fight. He has no reason to fear the truth, no matter where it lies, his only job was t find it. Trump just filed lawsuits to hide his income tax returns, he vetoed bipartisan legislation to prohibit arms sales to his buddy the Prince, in Saudi Arabia. He has told blatant lies about Mueller to try to discredit him, lies even a few of his best asskissers are having trouble defending.

As this guy blows hot air in front of an emblem where Latin has been replaced by the Spanish, "Trump is a puppet" and a two-headed Russian eagle grips cash and golf clubs, as he blows, oblivious to it all, the reality, the truth,  all of it, remains the same.

Mueller said clearly, plainly, and unequivocally, that Russia absolutely did, and continues to put forth robust efforts to interfere with elections.

Mitch Mcconnell and his 'squad' blocked legislation that would take steps to stop it.

It's been proven that Russia helped Trump, Putin was proud to say so on the World stage.

Trump, just last month, sitting at the desk of the oval office, made no bones about the fact that he would be more than happy to again accept that help in 2020.

I can't imagine why Mcconnell's squad would be hesitant to stop the interference.

This is a guy who does racist things over and over again, says racist things over and over again, and has been doing so longer than I've been alive, yet, somehow we are to believe he isn't a racist.


At what point do you just see the duck for what it is?


I hope the storm is almost over, there have been some trees uprooted, some flooding, some damage that will be hard to repair, I can't wait until the clean up begins.



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By the way, whoever thought heatwaves and hot flashes happening simultaneously was a fun idea... you're not funny

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May every summer breeze find you, cool you, bring you relief from the heat.
May the A/C in every public place be set to 'penguin's paradise', and not skip a beat.

May you sleep, uninterupted, flash free, for 10 hours straight.
That is all.



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www.margyreidbooks.com

See you in Rosthern Saturday and Sunday!

If The First Chants Had Taken Hold...

Hi!


"Go back to where you came from."



I wonder what the world would look like if that actually happened.


What North America would look like if it had happened 100 years ago, 150 years ago, 200, 300 years ago...

I wonder what it would have looked like if those who heard it first, listened to those who spewed it first.

If we, the habitual colonizers, would have gone back to whence we came at the first protests of those who were here first.

If none of our Grandparents, Great Grandparents, or Great-Great Grandparents had stuck it out at the first choruses of "Go back to where you came from."

If the first chants had taken hold.

If it had worked, North America, most likely would have experienced a very different, much more peaceful history, one created by a people whose traditions were and are rooted in nature, acceptance, and respect of all living things.

Even if it hadn't worked then, but later, say during the famine in Ireland, the wars and corruption in Italy, the unrest in countless other parts of the world, even then, what would New York look like? What would Saskatchewan look like? What would any of it look like without the ingenuity, the skillset, the work ethic, the sheer desire for a better life that comes from those who leave behind everything they have and everything they have ever known for an unfamiliar land filled with hope.

"Go back to where you came from."

A phrase of fear wrapped in hatred, put forth by those who like to spit poison at anything and anyone who they perceive, no matter how delusional, as a threat to their privilege.

A privilege dictated, molded and nurtured by the darkest parts of history. The history, as humankind, we, in the moment, swear to learn from and never repeat. Yet, here we are.


We watch as a figure of power stands before a crowd that blindly follows him. A crowd that ferociously inhales every lie they are being fed, looking to blame the "they" for everything that is wrong in their lives. If only "they" weren't here, hadn't come, would quit coming...

To pretend it isn't racist is ludicrous.

To pretend it doesn't look horrifically familiar is idiotic.

To pretend it isn't dangerous is naive.

To pretend it isn't contagious is just plain stupid.


"Go back to where you came from."


I can't think of a more hurtful phrase, its sole purpose to make the recipient feel less than, like they somehow, don't belong.


Privilege isn't something that is earned, it's simply a notion that was birthed by bigots, was nurtured by nazis, is fostered through fear, and harvested by hatred.


Fact-check what you are being fed. Poison has a way of sneaking up on you, getting under your skin, eventually changing who you are, warping how you see the world, creating imaginary enemies. How else do you explain innocent brown babies in cages?

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May the chants of hatred cease, for the hurtful choruses echo painfully in your grandparents' ears.
May the poisonous barbs be laid to rest, they have no value, deceptive hate-dipped fears.

May you come to understand the strength found in diversity, for every culture has something to teach.
May you come to understand the power of acceptance, the importance of the freedom of speech.

May you strip the blinders and allow yourself to see what is, believe your ears, believe your eyes.
May you strip the blinders, see the cages, feel the metal, hear the hate, hear the cries.


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www.margyreidbooks.com

Feed Your Happy, Feed Your Sane...

Hi!



Ahhhhhh summer, the time of year when freezies and popsicles create their own food group. Time to spend time with Aunties and cousins, doing things you don't get to do any other time of year.

Not everyone has a cabin to go to, a camper than enables exploration of our countless lakes, or paid holidays, for that matter.

It's all about making the most of what you can afford in the time available to you.

Creating memories is free.



Water fights and sidewalk chalk, bubble wars and evening walks. Backyard games and sprinkler fun, Tag, you're it! Now, I'm the one! Bike rides and movie nights, marshmallow roasts, and starry sights. Bask in the sunshine, dance in the rain, nap in the fresh air, feed your happy, feed your sane. 


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There's an old saying that has been quoted and paraphrased many times. It refers to the philosophy that all of us have two wolves inside of us. The good wolf and the bad wolf. Which one becomes dominant? The one we feed.

I think this philosophy also speaks to our happiness.

If we are constantly bombarded with negativity, by whatever means, tv, social media, radio, if that is all we feed our souls, how is it even possible to be happy?

If we are constantly bombarded with sunshine and rainbows, we are still only getting partial information. How do we make informed choices doing that?

I think we should treat our intake of information the same way we intake food.

Let's start treating negativity like junk food. It's okay now and then, but you shouldn't consume it every day.


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On a more serious note.

There is a news story that has been in the headlines in the past little while about yet another uber rich jackass. This one is a pedophile. I have a problem with the language used to describe the situation.

They keep referring to these kids as "underage women" What the actual hell is that supposed to mean?! They were not old enough to give consent, whether you put money on the dresser or not changes nothing. They are children, babies. Fourteen. Freakin'. Years. Old. Pedophile.

Child sex trafficking.

The fact that this even exists in our society, in 2019, no less, is disgusting.

If there is a hell, I'm sure he and his likeminded peers, have some prime real estate waiting for them. In the meantime, I hope Karma has a huge party in his honour, where everything, and I do mean everything, he has done comes home to roost.



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May you celebrate the sun, soaking in the warm.
May you enjoy every moment, every blue sky, every rainstorm.

May your wet wipes be wet enough to wipe every melted cone.
May you remember to take all in, and not all through the lens of your phone.



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Until next time...

www.margyreidbooks.com

Cut Out The Side-Eye Crap...

Hi!


Well, summer is here and moving fast!

Here's hoping everybody is enjoying it!

Tis the season for camping, weddings, camping at weddings, family reunions, bbq's, s'mores, bug bites, and sunburns.

Tis the season to unplug for a while, watch a sunrise, find some water to float on, eat food with sand in it, share some stories around a fire, watch the sunset, sleep, repeat.

Tis the season to stretch date nights and bedtimes, abandon routines, and embrace a seat-of-the-pants philosophy.

Tis the season for outdoor, live music, from the street corner to the amphitheater, at the lake or in the city, and everywhere in between.

Tis the season that everyone should get to enjoy. Everyone. Not everyone is built like a supermodel, cut out the ridiculous side-eye crap. It's mean, useless, and says way more about the kind of person you are than it does about them.

Tis the season that everyone should get to enjoy. Everyone. People with prosthetics, in wheelchairs, big, small, short, tall, black, white, and every shade of brown. People with alopecia, vitiligo, psoriasis, rosacea, or hypertrichosis. Again, cut the ridiculous side-eye crap.

You're better than that, and if your not, you should be.

Tis the season that everyone should get to enjoy, just let them. It costs you nothing.

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Now, I gotta run, I hear a fire and some s'mores calling my name...


May your days begin with long stretches, without hurry, good coffee, and a smile.
May your days be filled with long walks, and longer naps, the best you've had in a long while.

May the sun shine enough to give time for every summertime game.
May it give way to the clouds just enough to give us a bit of rain.

May your days end with nothing better to do than to watch the slowly sinking sun
May you fall gently into a restful sleep, recharge, ready to embrace another one.


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www.margyreidbooks.com

Trying To Focus Beyond The Tears...

Hi,

When the photo of the father and his toddler daughter, drowned, on the edge of a better, safer life, assaulted my senses, it hit hard.

When yet another credible woman came forward with her truth about being raped by the asshat that occupies the Whitehouse came forward. When her friends came forward explaining how she had told them about the whole thing at the time of its occurrence, it hit hard.

When they show how these innocent babies are being treated. For Profit. When they try to defend it. Justify it. It. Hits. Hard.


I know I'm not alone.


A waterboarding of horror. No matter how you turn your head, there it is. No matter how you try, you just can't catch your breath.

I know I'm not alone.


There you are, struggling, trying to focus beyond the tears.


So, this is me, trying to do just that.


Today, focusing beyond, soaking in the grins of our Kindergarten-graduating grandbaby, who stands with her little friends, singing songs, not a care in the world, as it should be.  They walk across a stage in their tiny caps, and miniature gowns to shake the hand of their sweet-faced, smiling teacher while their vice-principal regales us with their career aspirations, their favourite parts of the past year, and what they look forward to most in Grade One.

You'll be happy to hear that, down the road, there will be no shortage of Veterinarians, Farmers, Doctors, and Teachers because of the class of 2031.

Today, focusing beyond, prepping to spend Canada Day selling and signing books that I had the freedom to write in whatever manner, and with whatever content I saw fit, without fear of repercussion. This a day we get to celebrate the Country we are lucky enough to live in.

Today, focusing beyond, taking a minute to remind myself that although these stories of horror need close attention, they don't need all of it.



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On this long weekend, take care. So many will be heading to lakes, parks, family and community celebrations, the roads will be full of loved ones.

Take your time, be patient, don't take stupid chances. Be mindful of the blind spots of the rigs, both commercial and recreational.

Leave your phone alone.

Save your family from the grief of that unimaginable phone call.


Load up on great road tunes, play a few rounds of eye spy, lean back and enjoy the ride!



Happy Canada Day!


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Dear Asshat,

May you, someday, gain some insight, no longer blind to the consequences of your deeds.
May you, one day, have every bad act come home to roost, leaving you to clutch your prayer beads.

May Karma pay you a well-deserved visit and be ever so generous with her time.
May you be brought to justice for every unpaid labourer, every assault, every shady deal, every crime.

May the blinders of your followers be lifted, may they finally see the emperor has no clothes.
May they finally see you for what you truly are, without the cushion of lies, without the shield of trolls.



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www.margyreidbooks.com

I Live In A Part Of The World...

Hi,



I live in a part of the world where clouds war with rainbows, bold sunsets make the horizon blush, and the sky tries, every so often, to touch the ground.

I live in a part of the world where wide open spaces are the norm, where green isn't a big enough word for the rain-washed expanses, where perspective is thrust upon you.

I live in a part of the world where the deer and the antelope not only play, but host dance parties for the moose, gophers, and rabbits.

I live in a part of the world where coffee row is a real thing, directions are given using landmarks, and farm equipment is as common on the highway as a minivan.

I live in a part of the world where you have to drive a while to get anywhere you need to go, but never have to wait in line when you get there.

I live in a part of the world where freedoms are so plentiful they get taken for granted, where the unknown can still trigger fear, and some struggle with the understanding that we don't live an either/or existence, that there is more than enough of everything to go around.

I live in a part of the world where crystal clean lakes are plentiful, where people stay in tents for fun, where a boat's sole purpose is recreation, and summer, though short, is enjoyed to the fullest. 

I live in a part of the world. A small part. A privileged part. A lucky part. This isn't lost on me. Ever.


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A couple things...



What the hell?!?!?!

America, I can't wait until you are you again.

These poor babies, kept, neglected, sometimes to the point of death, not given soap, toothbrushes, the very basics needed to have any comfort.

You pull them from their parents' arms and treat them like this?!

I know everybody was freaking out because Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez referred to these containment facilities as concentration camps.  I looked 'concentration camps' up in the dictionary. I would encourage you to do so as well before jumping all over her. She's not wrong.

If you get angered by puppy mills, overcrowding in livestock facilities, or people abandoning kittens in a ditch, this treatment of human beings should infuriate you. At least it better. If you find the former abhorrent and the latter is anything less, maybe it's time to take a long look in the mirror and ask yourself some hard questions as to why that is.


America, I can't wait until you are you again.


Do yourself a favour, and check out a copy of New York magazine, the June 24th -July 7th edition.

 Read about what happened to E. Jean Carroll when she came across Trump at a Bergdorf Goodman, in her own words. Every sexual assault survivor out there will recognize the truth.


America, I can't wait until you are you again.




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With Summer solstice upon us,



May the long lazy days be just that, if not all, at least a few.
May the flicker of a bonfire fill your evenings, the stars of the night sky, your view.

May time be spent with family and friends, soaking in sunshine and fresh air.
May laughter echo loud and clear, may there never be an empty chair.

May you find yourself swaying to familiar tunes, singing along to the band in the park.
May you embrace the magic that lives somewhere between the sunset, and the surrender of the dark.



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www.margyreidbooks.com

Happy Daddy's Day!

Hi!


Happy Daddy's Day to all of the Dads out there. The Biological kind, the step kind, the adoptive kind, the kind who step in to be that beacon of Dadhood to kids who don't have that in their lives.


This guy, the one in the above pics, is one of the good ones. Our girls have never had to wonder if their Dad was in their corner. They've never had to entertain the thought of rejection from him. They have, since they've taken their first breaths, had the secure knowledge that their Dad would do anything for them.

Does that mean they got a pass with everything? Ummmm, nope.

There were countless discussions about important, and not so important things. They were taught how to change a flat tire, change oil, hang drywall, paint, and defend themselves. They were taught to be kind. They were taught to care, care for themselves, each other, and the community around them. He taught them what hard work looks like. He showed them that they are capable... of anything, and everything.


In a world where women continue to struggle for equality on a very basic level, their Dad helped them to understand their worth. They grew up assuming equality, instilled with the fight to never accept anything less.


Thank you, my Honey, for being such a good Dad to our girls, and such a fun and awesome Grandpa to our Grandbabies!


On a broader note, to those who are struggling or are new to Dadhood.


Just remember this...

There is no such thing as a perfect Dad.

Be the guy you want your child to emulate, the kind of guy you would like to see them walk through life with.

"The talk" beyond the biological, is a myth, it's a series of discussions about self-worth, boundaries, respect, and consent.

Everything you say will be outweighed by everything you do a thousand times over.

Don't ever expect kids to not be kids. In restaurants, on planes, in stores, at weddings... they can't not be kids.

No matter what you've been taught, fear is not respect.

If your little boy wants to play with dolls, wear dresses, watch Barbie movies, for crying out loud, just let them. They need to be who they are, and you need to relax. To make a child feel like they are in some way, somehow, "wrong," makes them feel they have to squelch a part of who they are to be accepted by you. Dangerous road.

If your little girl likes to play with bugs over Barbies, hates dresses, would rather play football than be the cheerleader, again, relax. They need to be who they are.

Instead, be sure they are learning how to walk through their world with kindness, decency, respect, and empathy.  You know, the stuff that actually matters.




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To my Dad, no longer physically here, but here, just the same...


I wish you were here, really here.

I miss your grin, I miss your laugh, I miss your goofiness.

I catch glimpses of you in crowds, in the gate of a stranger's walk, in an Eddie Arnold song, on the faces of my siblings, your grand and great grandkids. I look into the eyes of a specific few and see yours looking back. It makes me catch my breath, but in the best possible way.

Just know parts of you still touch the ground, walking it, enjoying the smell of a good rain, taking care of the animals, forever in search of those elusive, perfect, wild strawberries...


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Until next time...


May you find yourself able to spend time with whoever is the Dad person in your world.
May that time be filled building memories, jokes told, games played, stories, unfurled.

May you celebrate Daddom, whatever that means for you.



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www.margyreidbooks.com