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Living Freedom by Claire Wolfe. Musings about personal freedom and finding it within ourselves.

Want to Comment on a blog post? Look for and click on the blue No Comments or # Comments at the end of each post.



Archive for the ‘Miscellaneous’ Category

Claire Wolfe

Tuesday links

Tuesday, April 15th, 2014
  • As you suffer through your taxes (or their aftermath), be of good cheer. You have much less chance of being audited than you’ve had in years.
  • Church in a wealthy community installs a “homeless Jesus” sculpture. Woman reports the bum to cops.
  • Notice to thieves: It’s not a good idea to burglarize the Pena household.
  • In many places this would not be news. In darkest blue, gun-loathing New Jersey, it’s a bigger miracle than seeing Jesus’ face in a tortilla. (H/T jw)
  • I think some school officials are going to be in trouble over this Sure hope so. (PT, who sent this, said she was reminded of Tonio Carolina from Hardyville. Yeah, me, too!)
  • Bet you didn’t know that Jim Bovard did stand-up comedy. But he pretty much did that at the New Hampshire Liberty Forum. Little rough in the first few minutes. Gets better as it goes.
Claire Wolfe

Tuesday links

Tuesday, April 8th, 2014
  • Doesn’t it just stand to reason — doesn’t it just? — that the Human Ken Doll has has nothing good to say about the Human Barbie Doll? Weird old world we live in, innit?
  • I know there’s absolutely nothing funny about a fatal mudslide, as the people of Oso, Washington, are learning to their horror. But at least there’s a certain strangely poetic justice to this mudslide in China.
  • Government priorities. I swear, anybody as witty as Tam ought to have a late-night show of her own and be getting fabulously rich and famous.
  • The homeless guy and the ATM jackpot.
  • “Stop adding up the wealth of the poor.” Y’know, when you explain it that way, I see your point.
  • A brief video tour of British accents. Hilariously well done!
Claire Wolfe

Friday links

Friday, April 4th, 2014
Claire Wolfe

Monday links

Monday, March 31st, 2014
Claire Wolfe

Just some Sunday feelgood stuff

Sunday, March 30th, 2014

That was a good thing you did, lady. But you’re supposed to offer to buy the mistreated dog before you steal it. (H/T JB)

—–

Welllll, dunno if it’s the best political ad ever. But not bad.

—–

Rabbit stampede!

(H/T JB)

—–

There’s been so much terrible news out of that monster mudslide in Washington. And the last few days, so little news because they’re not saying much until the medical examiner identifies the latest bodies. Some bodies will just be under that mud forever. And nobody will ever know exactly how many.

All week I’ve bookmarked article after article, hoping to find something meaningful to say. But there’s nothing. Except for the few people rescued immediately after the slide there’s been nothing good. Except this one small thing.

Thanks, naturegirl for the one bit of cheer. I’m going to erase all those bookmarks now.

—–

Also from naturegirl: Doggie magic tricks.

(Funny. But still mean.)

—–

Might’s well wrap up with some more funny dogs.

Cheers.

Claire Wolfe

I am such a wuss (and other Wednesday ramblings)

Wednesday, March 26th, 2014

Last night I jammed my two little leftie toes on a table leg while wandering around in the dark. Well so? That’s usually one of those things where you hop around and cuss for a couple of minutes then life goes on. But this kept hurting all night and by morning those two toes were fat and red and the foot around them was fat and blue.

Still, we’re not talking about a major health crisis here. Just an owie.

I’m rarely ever sick and it’s been years since I’ve been injured. Meanwhile, nearly everybody I know has had health problems lately — from colds that turn into pneumonia to a flu that lingers for six weeks (in one case even leading to neurological problems) to … cancer.

So I have a lot of nerve getting all pouty about an owie.

« Read the rest of this entry »

Claire Wolfe

Tuesday links

Tuesday, March 25th, 2014
Claire Wolfe

Angry writers and other vague ruminations

Tuesday, March 25th, 2014

I’m working on a project with a couple other writers. We’re each doing our own thing, but coordinating about the topics we choose.

Today one came up with a rare gun-news gun-rights story and offered it around. “Nope,” the other replied (or words to that effect), “I write best when something pisses me off.”

Oh lordy, that is so true of so true. And it’s sooooo bad for the blood pressure. And for a person’s sanity and humanity.

—–

We’ve been having this exuberant burst of spring — today, even summerlike! — weather. I went to the hardware store for paint chips. I want to paint the outside of the house extravagantly. Lilac! Purple! Green!

Tomorrow it rains again. All. Week. Long.

I remind myself: “Summer starts in July. Summer starts in July.” (I still laugh — although not in a cheery way, you understand at this too-true cartoon Dana once posted in comments.)

——

There’s an old cemetery in the hills near here. Many of its residents were born in the 1820s to 1840s — ancient history in this part of the world. (And they weren’t born here, of course; a number are veterans of the War Between the States.). A very few people still get buried there, but the death dates on the gravestones taper off in the early 20th century.

It’s a small place, no more than a circular clearing in the woods. The volunteer caretakers are always unconvering unknown graves on its edges, which are then reclaimed by the forest when one volunteer or another moves on or dies.

I wonder about the stories.

Once, two side-by-side graves intrigued me so much I ordered up the archives of the local paper to find out what happened. Two graves. Four people. All under 25. A mother and her month-old baby dying within a day of each other I could understand. Turns out the other two people, young men, the baby’s father and his cousin, died weeks later. Both fell off log booms in separate accidents. Both were experienced log-walkers and good swimmers. Both just fell off and died.

All four lived in the same household. Can you imagine?

Today, in the brush, I uncovered the headstone of a father and son. The father died in 1920 when the son was only three. The son’s dates were given as “1917 – Unknown.”

Well, I thought, maybe the son just hadn’t died yet when the stone was set. But there it was, not left blank but carefully engraved, “Unknown.” With the added notation, “Separated in life; together now in heaven.”

—–

I have no intention of being stuck for eternity in a cemetery, however peaceful and woodsy. But I wouldn’t mind having a headstone somewhere that tells A Story.

Make it a good one. A really good one. And somebody tell it well.

 
 


 
 

 
 
 
 
 
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