I didn't sleep well last night. I'm still trying to process the events of the last few days. America, and possibly the world, came within a hair's breadth – literally – of being irrevocably altered forever when a bullet grazed Trump's ear instead of hitting him squarely in the forehead.
The dust is still settling and the finger-pointing is just beginning as people try to get to the bottom of just exactly what happened. Speculation ranges from the gunman being a lone-wolf assassin to the whole thing being an inside job by the Secret Service.
I don't know. And here's the thing: Neither do you. Everyone is spouting his favorite theory, but no one knows for sure. We, the ordinary citizens, may never know.
But I do know this: There are layers upon layers of obfuscation that prevent us from seeing the true state of our country. The divide in this nation has never been wider, except possibly in 1860 or so. And above all, there are evil forces at work out there, forces we can't even begin to comprehend.
And now, apparently, the gloves are off. Batten down the hatches, folks. It's only going to get
crazier as the election grows closer.
Older Daughter called yesterday (Monday). As you might recall, she works as a nanny in New Jersey, and frequently on weekends will travel down to Virginia to visit her friend GG. She was on her way back from that visit when she called to chat. I put her on speaker phone so Don could hear the conversation as well.
During our phone call, she related an interesting anecdote. On Sunday morning, she and GG were going to go do something after church, so they drove in separately from GG's parents, with the idea everyone would meet up at church. During the drive, Older Daughter noticed a LOT of police officers around; and whenever they drove under an overpass, they noticed crowds of people on the bridges, with flags and banners. What was going on?
But they didn't think much about it. They got to church and reserved some seats for GG's parents -- who never showed up, even though they only left the house five minutes after Older Daughter and GG. Where could they be?
Eventually, halfway through church, GG got a text from her parents saying the highway -- the same four-lane highway Older Daughter had just driven five minutes ahead -- was now CLOSED for some huge event that would shortly take place. All within that five-minute time gap. What event would close a four-lane highway?
"Rolling Thunder," Don called from the other room.
Rolling Thunder, it seems, is a massive -- as in, hundreds of thousands of participants -- motorcycle rally consisting of veterans and veteran supporters which descends on Washington D.C. every Memorial Day weekend. I'd never really paid attention to it before because I'm not into motorcycles, but it's been going on for years and years and years. According to their website, "All [participants] are united in the cause to bring full accountability for the Prisoners Of War-Missing In Action (POW/MIA) of all wars, reminding the government, the media and the public by our watchwords: 'We Will Not Forget.'"
Wow. Just ... wow.
This would explain the extra law enforcement presence Older Daughter and GG saw, as well as the crowds of people lining the overpasses.
Now for an interesting "rest of the story." Apparently this was anticipated to be Rolling Thunder's final ride into Washington D.C., citing expenses and harassment. According to the New York Post, reasons to discontinue the rally included "the Pentagon Security Police/Washington Police officials continued lack of cooperation, increased harassment to our supporters and sponsors. ... Rolling Thunder is poised to keep losing money on the rally due to demands from the Pentagon for extra security, among other issues."
But President Trump threw in his support, and now it looks like the rally will continue. "Good for Trump," said Younger Daughter, when Don relayed that information.
I told Older Daughter she just had a faint brush with history.
Roll on, Rolling Thunder. What an awesome spectacle.
As the events of Inauguration Day unfolded yesterday morning, I found myself in the barn doing the usual morning chores.
I gave the chickens their feed and refilled their waterers. I cleaned the stall where elderly Matilda and her calf are spending a lot of time. I fed them. I filled the livestock water tank. I fed the rest of the livestock. And I thought about Trump taking office.
Literally a world of responsibilities now rest upon his shoulders (I pray he allows himself to be guided by God in handling those responsibilities). And I gave thanks those responsibilities are not mine.
Some people in high office (Hillary comes to mind) may look down upon those of us who shovel cow patties around for a living, but I vastly prefer these humble duties. There are those born to rule others, and those born to rule only themselves. I am firmly of the latter, not the former.
The decisions of a president can affect millions of lives. The decisions of a north Idaho housewife affect very few.
