There are so many things I love about being the age I am.

I love being able to say “no” when I don’t want to do something.  I love having the time to say “yes” when I do want to do something.

Sure.  Everyone in my age group has aches and pains, and, for the most part, I really don’t want to hear about it.  Once you allow your conversation to dig in there, it becomes a pit you can’t get out of to talk about more meaningful things — our gardens, our dogs, the sun breaks, new books, old books we read so long ago they are new again, beautiful music, hysterically funny and trite things — like how much hair spray does Donald Trump have to use.

I often hear people in my decade complaining about not only their aches and pains but also about the things they cannot do.  Jeeze!  Do you not remember when you couldn’t do anything you wanted to do because other people had complete control of your life?  Parents, teachers, husbands, the needs of children?

So now you cannot down-hill ski?  All righty then.  Go sky diving.   You cannot kayak the white water?  Have you noticed how wonderful it is to paddle around on flat water watching  a pair of eagles working on their nest?

You say you now forget things.  Do you not remember studying hard for an exam and drawing a blank when you were sitting for it?

Do you not remember menstrual cramps and childbirth?  Have you forgotten your first broken heart.  Talk about aches and pains!  Nothing hurts like that. Nothing.

You are lonely?  Have you forgotten knowing for sure you were the only college freshman sitting in a dorm room who didn’t have a date on Saturday night?  Now that’s lonely.

Now, how sweet is it to sit in your favorite chair with a cat on your lap and a dog at your feet, a cup of tea or a glass of wine, a book or a a remote control (that you actually get to hold yourself), maybe eating something “bad” for you because you no longer have to be setting a good example for anyone.

I prefer to live in the moment and I try never to think back on the worst days of my life, but sometimes I do, just to remind myself how good life can be.

Happy Birthday to me.

Okay.  Here’s the way I understand it.

In 1776, the Thirteen Colonies declared their independence from Great Britain.

Love this painting of  Franklin, Adams, and  Jefferson working on rough drafts of the Declaration of Independence.  Those wadded-up sheets on the floor were not copies of cut-and-paste from a handy Epson. Clearly a highly idealized representation.

Prior to independence, the colones were very separate and independent.  Once they became the first states, they still valued this separateness and independence.  For a new country, this would never do.  A unifying government and supporting documents would be needed.

This would not be easy.  First we had the Articles of Confederation, which were fairly loose guidelines.  Then, the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia met between May and September of 1787 to address the problems of the weak central government that existed under the Articles of Confederation. Keep in mind that this is eleven years after Independence.

What was taking so long?  Well, of  course, travel and communication was laborious in those days.  No photography either, so we just have some rather fanciful paintings of the creation of our Founding Fathers.

Bringing the separate states to the signing took a lot of campaigning.  This was undertaken primarily by John Jay, Franklin, and Hamilton with the writing and disseminating of The Federalist Papers, promoting the ratification of the United States Constitution.

So, you see, the Constitution was under fire long before the final draft was signed.  It was never thought to be a perfect. sacrosanct, or infallible document, and it was understood from the beginning that amendments would be needed.  The Framers of the Constitution never thought of themselves as divinely-inspired neo-gospel writers,

Here is yet another highly-idealized painting.  This one of the signing.

G.W. seems about to bust a button and Franklin seems to be looking into the camera as if to say, “Lord, how I wish I were back in France.”

Then, as now, painters took liberties.  Do you think that in the midst of battle Washington, in his Sunday dress uniform, got off his horse and knelt down in the woods in the snow?

And that beautiful steed in regal tack seems to be exhaling heavenly fire.

Here, a modern painter even inserted The Lord and Abraham Lincoln, among notable others, into the constitutional scene.

Still and all, even today with misinformed politicians misunderstanding the Founders, Original Intent, and the Constitution, is this a great country or what?

Happy Presidents’ Day.

We have had a wonderful two weeks, with some surprises and some ups and downs (Think getting a 17-year-old truck up and running after a year of moldering underneath a tarp).

This time, Elizabeth was accompanied by a wonderful new dog, Gypsy Star Catcher.  She fit right in and Roxie was happy to share her toys.

Our favorite places soon became Gypsy’s too.  She did love running at The Minto and making friends with every dog and human she encountered.

And she enjoyed some birdwatching from her place at the breakfast table.

While the Tahoe was in the shop, Elizabeth and I enjoyed our usual Oregon things — lots of movies, lots of eating (Burgerville, La Margarita, Konditorei), tax-free shopping (Trader Joe’s, Petco).

Then our dear old family member, the X-rated Dominatrix, pulled back from death and was welcomed home by a car wash in the driveway at 1880.

And then darling Matt arrived to help with the packing up and the road trip to Colorado.  Time was found to show him one of Elizabeth’s favorite near-by hikes, Shellberg Falls.

Getting everything packed into the Tahoe was an amazing feat, but Matt and Boo managed it skillfully.

Boo has had years of practice with this, but this mother’s heart was so happy that Matt was here to help with wrangling the Thule Box up on top.  I have watched our dear girl manage this single handedly far too many times.

Time to close the doors.  Only spot for Gypsy Star Catcher will be Matt’s lap!

And now, things are back to normal here at 1880 — Roxie has her bed back and Rosie has ventured downstairs again.

So, the last holdout “civil disobedient,” David Fry, holed up in Burns, finally came out today. I think he and his cohort of annoying complainers would have come out weeks ago if we had just cut off their electricity (which was being paid for by your tax dollars) so they couldn’t have charged their devices.

Here’s how it came down:
Those present were various and sundry, including  the FBI and The Reverend Billy Graham, Jr. who apparently said,  “You all just do everything they tell you to do, and it’s going to work out great.”

Others apparently “implored him to think about the Holy Spirit.”  They explained that the First Amendment is about freedom of speech and the Second is about the right to bear arms, and said that they were in that order for a reason. They asked him what he thought Jesus would have done in his situation. He, in turn, asked for pizza and marijuana. Interesting demands, given his situation.