Often things take longer than we wish, like prepping a quilt

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I was fooling myself last week, assuming I could have the rainbow quilt on the living room sofa, all ready for me to hand-quilt. Conveniently I forgot about securing the perimeter, that I prefer to do in our guest room, with said quilt spread out on the bed. That imperative fact somehow slipped my mind, or I blocked it. Either way, for the next few days that precious quilt will loiter in its own space, and eventually it will meander to where I am currently seated, typing this post.

One reason I didn't make the quilt sandwich until today was that yesterday I attended a protest/rally to denounce the murders taking place in Minneapolis, as well to honor Keith Porter, killed by ICE in Northridge on New Year's Eve, 2025, and others harmed and slain by ICE in the last year. This protest was announced in our local news and on Reddit late on Saturday afternoon. Less than eighteen hours later over one thousand people stood in front of the Humboldt County Courthouse seeking justice, peace, and venting our anger and sorrow via placards, shouts, songs, and smiles as we shared with each other the hope that one day we won't be gathering together on that street. Because the end of the current American administration needs to come about as swiftly as possible, but of course it's taking longer than we wish.

I'd like to proffer lots of insightful comments, because I have certainly mulled them over during the last couple of days. I didn't know that Alex Pretti had been viciously executed when I wrote my previous post; I don't actively seek out the latest news. Once I learned of his murder, I scanned a few articles, digesting how deplorable my nation's government truly is, how spineless are Republican politicians, how cruel people can be toward one another. There are lots of things I'd like to say, but God is keeping my heart and soul for safekeeping, and the sign I waved spoke of love mattering most of all. Why that seems so dang difficult for others to grasp is beyond me.

I won't hazard a guess at how long America's current president will remain in office. I wish he was long gone, and I don't care where he spends retirement. Florida is fine with me, to be honest, as long as he's not in the White House anymore. Yes I'm appalled at how sycophantic Republican congresspeople are toward him, how the media licks his shoes, how big corporations fall at his feet. It's as if Hitler and Stalin, Pol Pot and Idi Amin didn't exist, as awful as what's happening in nations that hold no democratic notions whatsoever. Yet at this nearly the end of Monday, 26 January, 2026, all I know is that often things take longer than we imagine, like prepping a quilt. But soon that quilt will be the one laid over my lap, keeping me cozy as I rock that needle, securing the inside of the quilt until I reach THE END, or more rightly the center. And one of these, God willing, America will be free of this destructive political and ethical and social nightmare. What comes next won't be perfect, but it will be different. Better, might I be so bold to say. America will be better, one of these days.

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