Morning Prayer

*Warning: I'm going into rant mode about a certain Republican who is, unfortunately, currently governor of Texas. If that's not your thing this morning, let me give you a few alternate things to look at: Like this hilarious "Facebook post" that gives the entire plot of Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone in a series of 'posts' from the main characters. Or if you'd rather go shopping online, here's a link to the coolest, best designed temporary tattoos I've ever seen. I'm seriously considering ordering the Pantone chip ripoff set. Y'all have fun now.

Back to ranting:

I got up this morning, checked out the news on MSNBC online and found this link to a story about Rick Perry, the Governor of Texas, and an event he is having focusing on bringing people back to God and his battle to hold said event against the evil machinations (a lawsuit) of atheists. Really, Rick? Exactly what depths will you sink to in your quest for political power?

For the record, until the past year or so, I can't remember Rick praying in public all that much. He has always been majorly conservative and supportive of all the usual issues that get the conservative, uber religious voters riled up, such as abortion, gay marriage, gay anything, etc. But in the past year, he seems to have stepped up his involvement in anything involving that section of the voting populace, in particular, public praying and attendance at events involving the religious far right. All of Rick's calling on God and God's most fervent fans seems to have a definite purpose, at least to me: Ricky is definitely hoping to show, by his holy devotions, that he is the one called by God to be our next President.

Dear Lord, no. No. No. No.

While I would love to see Rick move out of the Texas Governor's mansion (permanently mind you, not just for restoration purposes), I don't want it to happen because he's changing addresses so he can move into the White House. So here's the deal Rick. You go pray all you want that God will 'call' you to the Presidency. But I'm going to be praying that God shows you a different path. One that's more tolerant. One that is more accepting of people's different beliefs and lifestyles. One that accepts that it's going to take more than prayer of a specific Christian-based belief system to solve the problems we are facing in this country. And one that has you caring more about your current constituents than your political ambitions.

Let us pray.

Why I Love Certain Dirty, Rotten, Cheating Liars

At the beginning of this year, I began a new tradition of sorts. We call it Sunday Supper. It gives us a chance to get together with my son Michael and his wife Sarah, my daughters when they are home, the Commune and various other friends and loved ones. Basically, we get together here at the house, eat supper, then deal the cards.

For various reasons, we've missed a couple of months. So last week I sent out an email to see who could come over on Friday night. I was in the mood to cook up a storm (grilled marinated pork chops and chicken breasts, grilled asparagus, these fabulous cilantro-filled rolls I found in the current issue of Bon Appetit, finished off with a buttermilk/blackberry cake from the same publication. (I'm thinking about adapting the cake by substituting fresh Texas peaches for the blackberries.)

After supper, we cleared off the table and dealt the cards. By popular demand, the game of the evening was one Michael and Sarah had taught us called Bullsh!t. The entire point of the game seems to be to lie and cheat your way to victory. Seriously. As  you go around the table, each player has to lay down cards in order from ace to king. And you must lay down the correct card(s). That's where the fun comes in. Your fellow players have to decide if you are lying. If someone thinks you are lying, a cry of "BS!" will erupt from him. So, you have to either turn the card(s) over to prove you aren't or take all of the cards in the pot. This leads to a lot of lying and cheating.

In our little group, probably no one gets into the lying and cheating more than my neighbor Andy and my daughter-in-law Sarah. They do so much cheating together that we actually said they couldn't sit together on Friday. Not that we enforced it. It wouldn't be any fun. The two of them clumsily pass cards off to each other, put down more cards than they say they are, and rarely put down the right card. Last Friday was no exception. And no one laughed harder about it than Andy. I've never seen him laugh that hard. Play literally stopped as he crossed his arms on the table, laid down his head and laughed until it hurt. It made my day, my week, my month to see everyone laughing and having so much fun.

And that's why I love dirty, rotten, cheating liars. Or at least, certain people of that persuasion.