Friday, October 09, 2015

While Rome burns.

Last week, the historian and I said we would start writing letters, after Oregon. We haven't started writing them yet, but we need to start. I could write here about what I found in my purse or on my desk or the beautiful pink cosmos that stopped my breath, just about, this morning. But some days, even if I want to, I just can't.

I know people, friends, at Northern Arizona University, but then, that's not really the point. It could be any one of us. It could be people I love or people I don't know. But it shouldn't be any of us. By 'us,' I mean 'anyone at all.'

My friend Lynn said, I'm writing to the president and congressmen and the mayor and anyone else who strikes my fancy. This seems to me like the only thing to do right now.

Here's how to find your congressman's address.
Here's how to find your senator's address.

You'll have to find your own mayor.

Sometimes, you just have to write a letter saying, enough is enough. I promise you, that is what I will do.


  1. Thank you, friend, for this. I am really really tired. But I'm going to sleep and then wake up and then write.

  2. I've been writing once a week since, and I've even gotten a response from my representative, although it was about access to health care for the mentally ill. Still, it's something.



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