So much better

Yes, it's been awhile since I've written here. It's not that I have nothing to say, but rather the words I want to say are fed by anger, consternation, frustration, and disbelief. It's hard to write without swearing.

And it's not only the U.S. drama. It's the horrible war in Yemen, the manufactured threat of war in Iran, the sad spectacle of Brexit, and the success of Putin's efforts to break up the EU and delegitimize NATO. Across the globe, and in this country, Russia has interfered with elections, encouraged division and aided the far right. Putin's actions are no secret and Trump's devotion to him is telling.

It's enough to make you want to crawl under a pile of blankets and stay there.

But we can't do that. We keep going, finding things to be happy about every day. The beautiful May flowers, the smile on a child's face, a call from a distant friend. Even work and daily chores are welcome relief from the constant braying of media, social or otherwise.

My go-to solution is to bury myself in a book, the more removed from reality the better. To that end I reread Fingerprints of the Gods (1995), by Graham Hancock. It's 500+ pages detailing his search for the meaning of unexplainable sites (the Nazca lines, for instance) and the myths belonging to them, and it's a far cry from the present.

Escapism may not be the wisest path to follow, but it definitely provided relief when it was needed. As Maureen Doud said in her column  yesterday, "It's wearing, not letting this petulant man wear us all out." It is. So grab a good book, talk a walk, or simply sit in the sunshine and enjoy the silence. It's all so much better than being angry.