Rushing's Ramblings

I've struggled with religion, specifically Christianity, my entire life. There was a disconnect between what the church leaders taught and what was occurring at home. The real problem was that my father was one of the church leaders. I might have been born a skeptic anyway, as I remember feeling doubtful that anything happening in the church was authentic at a very young age. Something about it seemed like a play, with everyone fulfilling their roles in the church while acting anything but Jesus-like otherwise. I can't think of a time when that isn't again more evident than now. After reading the Bible and the Koran, studying Hindu practices, attending a Jewish Temple for several years, and absorbing the teachings of The Buddha, I'm finally at a place where my beliefs reflect a mixture of many spiritual leaders. I believe in a Supreme Being, God, Allah, KHVH, or the Masters. I believe in spirits, angels, past lives, and reincarnation. All the great spiritual lead

I'm a dog person. Dogs offer unconditional love and companionship. Training them in obedience and doing tricks has been challenging with all the dogs I've owned, but it has been gratifying. My dog, Paddy, has also served as a hospice therapy dog. I will never forget the joy he gave people their last days before dying. Paddy is simply adorable. Cats are a different matter. Their intelligence and fierce independence won't allow you to mold them into fulfilling any expectations you might have. Someone once said that if they were bigger, they would kill you. Most are impulsive, unpredictable, sometimes aggressive, and occasionally sweet and docile---all behaviors that may be exhibited within seconds of the other. The bottom line is that they are predators.  Six feral cats adopted me last year. One became ill and probably went to heaven, so I'm down to five. Two of the five are tame, as they were probably dropped off in the hills surrounding my house, or perhaps they wandere

The recent news stories about women coming forward with information about Judge Kavanaugh, a nominee for the Supreme Court, jarred a memory from almost 50 years ago. A long-forgotten memory arose and felt like a direct hit from lightning when I awakened from a nap today. Clouds hung over me throughout the day. My first job was as a clerk in a bait shop/small grocery store near Lake Meredith. I was 16 years old and commuted 15 miles to a position that paid no more than $.75 an hour. I didn't care, as I needed the money. The other female clerk, my age, warned me about the business manager. He was around age 50 when I started working there. Not much time had passed when he began getting "friendly" and touching me in places where his hands didn't belong. I finally told him to keep his hands off of me. I didn't work there again after summer was over. I started heavily drinking that same summer. My drinking was often limited to driving around town with Suzy w

Football was important in my hometown of Phillips. Watching the beloved Longhorns play brings back memories of long ago. Football was about all we had for entertainment in small towns, just about everywhere, particularly in the south/southwest. In Phillips, we also had church. You attended either the First Baptist Church or the First Methodist Church. I don't know if the town planners thought there'd be other churches, hence the moniker "first," but those were the only two churches the town would ever have. I would have played football if I had a chance, preferably as a wide receiver. (I would have been the best!) My gender automatically prevented me from joining the team, so I played in the marching band instead. Our team played 2A football, just shy of 6-man, 1A football status. Our school might have been small and would eventually be launched into oblivion. Still, our football players were among the state's best. We got close to winning state my senior year. Ma

A few nights ago, our UT Highland Lakes Texas Exes chapter hosted a showing of Tower at the Uptown Art Theater in Marble Falls. Tower is an award-winning documentary about the August 1, 1966, mass shooting on the UT campus. I was a sophomore in high school in the tiny town of Phillips in the Panhandle of Texas in August of 1966. As a child, I had already experienced the assassinations of President Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Robert Kennedy. When I was in grade school, we had drills in case of a nuclear attack by Cuba, backed by Russia. As children watching the nightly news on TV, we witnessed violence in the streets, from those supporting civil rights to those opposing the Vietnam War. We heard weekly body counts of soldiers dying in Vietnam on the nightly news. Even though we were children in a small town, we weren't immune to violence. After all, the UT mass shooting and the Kennedy assassination happened in my own state! I felt confused, disgusted, shame, and fearful a

Knocking on a stranger's house door feels intimidating, even though the information you will give them will be well received. You're afraid the one on the opposite end of the political spectrum will open the door, and if they do, you hope with all your might that it will be without a gun. However, the person on your list might have moved or died. They might even be part of a divided household, with their marriage held together by baling wire because of political beliefs wider than a fissure just before an earthquake. Activists in my county are knocking on the door of every person who voted Democrat. They might be people who only voted in the last Primary, or they might have just voted in 2016 as a Democrat, or they may have voted somewhere else as a Democrat. Chances are reasonably sure that Democrats live there. One of our Precinct Chairs from our largest town uses data from 2008. I warned her that some of those people might have passed away since the average age in our c

Eight hours gives one plenty of time to "catch up" on the road to our 50th high school reunion. My former classmate Linda and I had much to discuss. We never really knew each other during the 10 years we attended the same small school, even though there were never more than 80 children in our entire class. We had a marathon of laughter about many things––childhood experiences, politics, our children, grandchildren, etc. After those eight hours, our trip could have concluded and still been a success. The two-lane state road from Horseshoe Bay to the Panhandle of Texas carries very few cars and offers views of ranches, infrequent canyons, struggling crops, and sad, run-down little towns. Even though we tried, those back roads might be the only place on earth where you can drive for 500 miles and not see a Starbucks. Once we reached the Panhandle, miles of a corridor-like stretch of land leading from Amarillo to Pampa was dotted with giant white wind turbines. It was

Most of us are female retirees from professions where we looked forward to relaxing in the country and doing whatever we wanted. While we were dedicated to our full-time jobs, we also loved and raised our children, cared for our husbands, and were involved in our favorite charities. We did it all, often to the point of exhaustion. There's a smattering of men volunteering, but women, mostly older women, dominate the meetings and marches. We chose to retire to the beautiful Hill Country, far from our careers and the hustle and bustle of cities. We looked forward to spending more time with our grandchildren and pursuing hobbies. Then, November 8, 2016, happened. We were shocked that our candidate lost, but our anger at who won surpassed our shock. A man, now President, spews vileness and vindictiveness with every tweet and speech he makes. We're horrified at what his so-called leadership has done to our beloved country. It has propelled us to "do something." We liv