misty, foggy morning

There's a thick fog over the area this morning. I'm loving the view out my window. In a minute I'm going back to bed to lie there with a book and my cats and maybe a mug of something and relax, maybe go back to sleep for a while. It's beautiful.

This is the sort of morning I never want to leave here. I love this house, and I love the friends I share it with. I have to remind myself that this *is* all going to change, whether I want it to or not. That I have to be active in shaping the change or just continue to accept what Fate decrees without complaint.

It's hard--sometimes I just want nothing to change. It seems to me wonderful as it is. But it doesn't seem so to everyone, and the only way things could not change would be a course of events that would make people I care about deeply unhappy.

And, so, things are bound to change, just as this beautiful foggy morning is bound to change into something else. And I can only hope and trust that it will change into something equally wonderful, just different.

And it's going to be a day
There is really no way to say no to the morning
Yes it's going to be a day
There is really nothing left to say but come on morning.

Peter?

I'm so sorry I already sent presents for your kids; this clearly should have superseded them.

with thanks to geekchick

read

Remember back during the 'war' (IOW, during the first flush of the war), when a certain Iraqi blogger was getting kudos all over the Net for daring to report from 'inside', telling us what regular Iraqis saw despite the danger to himself and his family if the Iraqi secret police should find out who he really was?

percyprune mentioned another Iraqi blog today in his post about the execution of Saddam. I'd not seen it before, so I stopped to read it, and I've been reading bits of it off and on all day.

Read it.

It's painful, and awful, and chilling, and utterly believable, and it tells the same story that anyone who has been reading the news from Iraq and has the slightest amount of imagination has probably know has already figured out. There are probably many others like it. All telling the everyday experiences of a nation that has been ravaged by our government, our armies, our policymakers, that has been taken from the hands of a cruel and brutal dictator and thrown into an immeasurably worse situation, one in which not individuals, or families, but whole communities, a whole country is being destroyed.

I'm so sad, and so angry, and so frustrated. I'm past even trying to imagine what solutions we can find, or how we can hold our leaders accountable. The disaster they have created is greater than any kind of accountability that one person could offer with their position, their career, their life, even.

Someone just tell me that when the George W. Bush Presidential Library is built, that across the front of it's pediment, in letters six inches deep so they can never be worn away, will be engraved the words of Shelley's 'Ozymandias'.