A Little March

Yesterday, after recovering from a nasty flu, we marched.
It was cold and we were alone. I bought some balloons because, I don’t know, BALLOONS!! We talked about feminism and femininity. We talked about how we should be treated and how we should treat others. We talked about motherhood and education and creativity. We talked about the difference between God and government. We talked about respecting beliefs that are contrary to our own. We talked about not making fun of people, even when they make fun of us. We talked about the Statue of Liberty, refuges, mismatched socks, and why books are cheaper at the scholastic book fair (our march is not without its tangents). Most of this talk happened back in the truck, because dang it was cold, but the important thing is… we talked.
The snow in the pic says so much too. January is dreary and infinite. I’m distracted, triggered, and world-weary. On a good day, I remember to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer, and on the hard days, I agonize over how I can possibly contribute as an everyday citizen. I’m so grateful for these little lights and the hope I feel from this quote: “Your success as a family… our success as a nation… depends not on what happens inside the White House, but on what happens inside your house.” ~Barbara Bush

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