Early Bird

Or rather, early lizard! First one of the season. Spring must be just around the corner.

Tiny

Tiny Dog is ailing. Three and a half years ago, the vet told us she might last a year before going into heart failure. That time has, much belatedly, arrived.

We try more meds. And we wait and see. 

Bless you, Tiny Dog. We love you so much.

Birthday Boy

14!

History

Herself speaks.

Sometimes, I think about the question: why is there Black History Month?  

I have heard this question asked before. And to be honest, growing up as a white person, I did not give much thought to Black History Month. Was it even taught in school? A little research through Google tells me it was in existence when I was young -- yet it did not have enough impact to leave an impression on me. I grew up with the luxury of never thinking anything other than "all people are equal, regardless of race", never experiencing or witnessing racism.  

And thus, remaining thoroughly ignorant. 

The Black Lives Matter movement shone such a light on the depth of my personal ignorance. Shameful. Know better, do better, now.

-----

Let me ask you a few questions.

Where are your ancestors from?

 I can answer this: Ireland, Poland, Romania. Extended family members know who came to America, and when, and from where. We know what cultural heritage came with our ancestors to this country, what religious practices our relatives had, where they had farms, how they tried to make a living for themselves and their loved ones. 

What if you cannot answer this question? What if your people were stolen from their homeland and enslaved? What if you cannot identify your cultural heritage? 

Most people want to belong to a group: it is human nature to try to find commonality with other human beings, to share in communal life. And yet, some groups of people -- white people, especially -- have historically slashed apart, and continue to slash away, the very underpinnings of community for others. It is a shocking cruelty. 

Black History Month should give those of us who are ignorant, a push toward knowledge and acknowledgment of atrocities in our American past, as well as an opportunity to honor contributions of people who have historically been overlooked.  Black History Month takes a known identifier -- color -- and recognizes it as a commonality among these peoples: Blackness. This is why, in part, Black History Month is so important: to take the time to recognize the achievements of peoples who were ripped from their ancestors' arms and subjected to unthinkable, ongoing mistreatment, that extends into the present in our country, even now.

Perhaps, too, this is one reason why Kwanzaa exists: to bring together people of unknown heritage and terrible suffering, to create community. To understand common experience, together. To make new culture, where old culture has been cruelly amputated against their will.

I will do what I can to do better: to see what exists, to not turn a blind eye or make excuses, to be an ally. It's not up to other people, especially Black people, to tell me what to do -- I need to do the work myself. 

Black Lives Matter. 

Imagine

 Herself speaks.

I am so busy that I do not spend much time outside in nature right now. Nevertheless, I do imagine what it will be like when the volume of obligations (and the pandemic) eases up, and I can purposefully enjoy flora and fauna again. 

Sometimes, I dream of the desert, and I remind myself that I need to get out my books on the plant life of this dry land, so that I can learn more about what the desert holds. 

And sometimes, I imagine Oceanside. How magnificent, to see creatures like this, in their natural habitats. 

Beautiful. 

Photos Copyright 2020, 2021, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

BEANS BEANS BEANS

The baby beans are BIGGER BEANS. They are SO CUTE IT IS NEARLY UNBEARABLE.

 

Toast Both Sides

 Texas has been frighteningly cold. Old Dog, however, is mercifully warm.