Rushing's Ramblings

I had a rough night last night. I don't know if it's a cold, the flu, asthma, or bronchitis. I only slept for about an hour and would awaken with a terrible headache, coughing, aching chest, and a nose that needed to be rid of its stuffiness. It might be feverish delirium, but I recall dreaming that a Llano County Democrat was thinking about voting in the Republican Primary when the pain in my head would awaken me. This dream, with subsequent pain, happened several times. It was an absolute nightmare. Most of the Democrats I know detest our Lieutenant Governor, Dan Patrick. I imagine that if they're honest and moderate (rational), Republicans are ashamed of him. He's a former conservative radio entertainer (think a Texas version of Rush Limbaugh) whose claim to fame for the last two sessions is his laser focus on who can and cannot use public bathrooms. He's hellbent on "protecting" women and children in this state from people who are transgender and just

I recently had a long phone conversation with a close friend of six decades. We're both opinionated and on the opposite end of most subjects. We usually discuss safe topics, like how our children, grandchildren, and parents are faring, the weather, etc. Sometimes, it drifts to politics, but we tiptoe around it. Maybe it's the aging process, but our conversation horrified me on many levels. It's hard to work my way back to our friendship when some of the things she told me were far removed from everything I hold dear. We weren't but a few minutes into our conversation when she started loudly proclaiming that rather than take care of murderers for the rest of their lives, we should "take them out back and kill them." She kept repeating various versions of this without taking a breath. When I finally told her to "stop" and get back on track about her recent cruise, she admitted this particular train of thought had nothing to do with her "cruise fro

I've always avoided teenagers, especially after I painfully went through it myself and then with my daughter. Teens are often unfiltered in their comments when amongst their peers. They might not address you directly but will talk to each other loud enough to know it might be something unflattering about you. It's just how they roll in the individuation process as they transition from childhood to adulthood. It's impressive that the young people who recently experienced a mass shooting in their school are loudly vocalizing their frustration with the NRA-funded majority rule in our country. It appears they have more of a chance to make a difference than those of us who have been demanding sensible gun control laws for many years. I'm reminded of Psalms: "Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength." My almost three-year-old grandson took my hand yesterday and asked to see the school buses near where we were watching a state-wide hi

"I've always been with you. You have never been alone. I will be with you and love you forever," Grandmother softly whispered to me recently, although she left her physical body over 25 years ago. I was brought to tears, as I always thought I was alone until she whispered those words. Of all the people in the world who should be bitter about what life dealt them, my maternal grandmother would be one of those kinds of people. We all know them. They're the ones who always have drama in their lives, and if there isn't something to complain about, they'll invariably refer to past times when something happened to make them unhappy. I avoid those people like the plague and try to change the subject quickly when I'm stuck with them. But it's mentally exhausting to be in their toxic presence. Grandmother grew up poor with six siblings in rural Oklahoma. Her father illegally distilled alcohol on a creek running through their property. One can only imagine the c

"Just leave the dishes. It'll give me something to do after you've gone," my paternal grandmother repeated every time we got ready to depart after a short visit. I felt guilty driving away, knowing she was faced with a sink loaded with dirty dishes. It's only after decades have passed that I understand. Grandmother was one of those women long ago who never received the attention she deserved. She never expected nor sought it either. Grandmother was like everyone else, trying to get by in this old world and making the best of it along the way. Born in 1900, she would live for 88 years. Her parents, who were farmers in East Texas, raised three children. Grandmother was born with one leg significantly shorter than the other. She stood under five feet tall and wore a built-up shoe that still didn't correct the discrepancy in leg lengths. Since she was considered "crippled," Grandmother never received the college education to become a teacher,

One of the most lovely pleasures the Texas Hill Country has given me is the numerous white-tailed deer that share my little corner of the world. Paddy and I take walks in the hills near my townhouse almost daily. It's fun to encounter them every day and see them dashing across the street and into the bushes when we get close. Since they are protected from hunters in my town, they live to see another season for the most part. However, during mating season, Horseshoe Bay captures an unknown number of deer by erecting giant nets elevated by poles with the ground saturated in corn to lure them into the netted area. I have a friend who makes it a habit of honking her horn as she drives past the nets. She's happy to save them from the inevitable fate of capture and give them one more day of life. I don't know what they do with the captured deer, even though a neighbor told me they were relocated and/or killed with the meat given to the needy in the nearby town of Marble Falls. I