The Line Becomes a River by Francisco Cantu
I hardly know what to say about this. Cantu works as a border patrol agent for the first half of this non-fiction book, wanting to get first-hand experience. The second half sees him working on behalf of an undocumented deported friend, who is trying to rejoin his wife and three boys in the States after going home to be at his mother’s deathbed.
Just today, VPR reported on the impacts that are resulting from Vermont having seen the smallest influx of refugees into the state for the past decade, thanks to the odious anti-immigration policies made higher up. There is now a small infrastructure in Burlington and Winooski set up to help support new Americans, and its services are going wanting, and more importantly jobs are going unfilled. We hear constantly that we need more people in Vermont – more young people, a bigger tax base, more entrepreneurship, a bigger labor pool. We need people. And the world is literally full of people begging to come here, and not being allowed to, and for what?
I hardly know what to say about this.
I don’t recall if the spinning wheel charm itself was cheap; it was an Xmas gift (which I asked for, from a booth at the VTS&W Fair). But it was meant for a bracelet. I paid a few bucks last night at what we call the Rock Shop (“Global Pathways” on Church St.) to have it put on a big fat clasp so I could wear it on my favorite necklace; and they threw in a repair to the clasp on said necklace too. I wear this chain nearly 24/7. The charm may be annoying to wear 24/7, as it gets caught on things, but isn’t it cool?!
And I was reading last night about how much fakery goes into photos that are taken with smartphones. Apparently, whether or not you explicitly use a filter, the phones are making everything look much better than it “really” does. Sorry you are always gypped out of full appreciation of my ragged complexion. I don’t really look as sandpapered as I do in these photos.
One corner of my office… yarn I’ve spun, a weaving a did, yarn I’ve purchased… the weaving is useless but pretty. I’ve made it my phone wallpaper, so I guess I found a kind of use for it.
I was able to add more pix to my Vermont 251 Club project over the weekend. This is a block in Johnson. The white door in the red vestibule on the left used to lead to a restaurant long ago called Plum & Main. This was when we first moved to Vermont in ’96 and bought our house in ’97. It was so long ago we found the restaurant by consulting a paperback guidebook.
We used to go there a lot. I’d usually get a big plate of fried clams with a baked potato (how did I use to eat so much?). The desserts were awesome; we used to usually get a maple pecan pie that tasted like a dish of syrup-smothered pancakes. I don’t recall sharing. I think we used to each get our own. How did I use to eat so much?!
Then one time I got a fish special and it tasted funny. It came with some citrus sauce. The taste was kind of ammonia-like, kind of grapefruit-like. I ate most of it, thinking it was the citrus sauce I wasn’t crazy about. Finally, though, I felt like something was wrong, and we complained about it. The kitchen acknowledged no wrongdoing. The fact that I’d eaten most of it did not help my case. I think they gave us a free dessert, but we never felt the same about the place & didn’t return. Of course, they’ve since closed.
We went to this thing called “Ice Castles” in Woodstock, NH. It was just a big Instagram trap. So of course I oblige with a selfie, but I DON’T LIKE IT.
Even gorgeouser blouse, and black pants… but Sam, you made the pants too long:
They bunch up. This style wouldn’t be easily hemmed IMHO. These are going back. I’ve TOLD them I’m short. What am I going to do with a 30″ inseam?
The blouses may be a little too flimsy for late March, which is my next office visit, unfortunately.
The pants are both weird in that there’s no fly – they stretch. Feel absolutely great on, fine at the waist – but slipping them over my butt I was scared to death I would rip them.
Gorgeous blouse (as usual!)… Perfect pants! Long necklace.
I don’t much like long necklaces for a variety of reasons. For example, look how this got inadvertently draped over my tit.
And this one, all the leaves, they are going to constantly be slightly off-center.
I’m hard to please with jewelry in general. I’m going to tell them no more jewelry (I thought I already did).
But the other two pieces are keepers.