Catchng Up with Trump

Trump has unleashed and empowered the worst of us. So sad.
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Does Paul Ryan realize that raising the Social Security retirement age to 70 would throw us into the 1980's again, when it was hard for people coming into the job market to find employment? Think about it--if you hold onto five years' worth of workers at one of a spectrum, you squeeze out five years worth at the other end.
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The word is that Trump told Howard Stern that he'd give Melania a couple of days--maybe a week--to lose her pregnancy fat after she gave birth. No news about how fast she shaped up, but four months later, Trump inaugerated an affair with a porn star.
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Trump seems to share an interesting characteristic with his basest base--he is swayed, at least momentarily, by the the loudest voice around.  Thus he can agree with Kelly when he's with him, then change his mind when he hears from the next load-voiced person whom he's with.
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It's a waste of time to try to understand why the pseudo-religious right continues to support Trump. In fact, we've spent way too much time trying to analyze and rationalize his adherents when we should have been blocking them. They are not going to understand our reasoned and well-meant responses and explanations because they don't want to. If Christ came to earth tomorrow and Trump called him the devil, Trump's followers would stone the Son of God. In fact, metaphorically, they already have..
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Official News

Husband is retired now so yesterday afternoon he and Fio spent a couple of hours working on his home office.  Fiorella put together a wall design of his various awards and commendations--mixed in with some of Son's artwork--and Husband did the grunt work.  Today we'll look at rearranging and organizing.  Who knows what will turn up?

Fiorella's office--notice how now that she has a publisher, she's calling it an office rather than a study--is still uninhabitable, but there's hope.  There better be, because she's just received a second round of revisions from her editor.

Luxurious Awakening

For years Fiorella's brain commanded her to rise at the scream of a 5:45 a.m. alarm clock in order to wash, dress, eat, and be out the door in half an hour, then hit the highway.

Now she enjoys the luxury of taking a full hour to gradually awaken each morning, lying half asleep for a while--sorting out what was dream and what is real as her muscles react to the stirrings of a new day's adrenaline.

After a while, her eyes open to rosy-fingered dawn shyly lighting the horizon.

She lies in bed a little longer, enjoying the silence of morning. The alarm is shut off nowadays. Her body, not her brain, is what decides when she gets up.

Finally the moment comes: Arise, Fiorella--arise, shine.