I haven’t been writing much that lately, only re-posting in an effort to keep up activity and share some good stuff with newer readers. The reason is that we are still in the process of moving to a different part of town and out of the parsonage we’ve been in for the last eight years.
So, what I did was sit down at my computer one last time, all because this baby is going to be taken down and packed in the back of a van in the morning, and write a final post in the area where my blogging actually began. I sat down in the empty kitchen, worn out, right where I’m sitting right now, and decided I would write a post addressing the millions of women marching all over the world in protest of President Donald Trump.
I deleted the post.
Well, I didn’t actually delete it – that would be a lie – I just permanently saved it as a “draft.”
Why did I, in effect, delete the post I labored over for an hour? I figured it was better for me to find other battles to fight than get into one with a bunch of pink “p***y hat” wearing, illogical, angry, pro-abortion, hypocritical, estrogen-filled leftists with a uterus-shaped chip on their shoulder.
You don’t need to know what I think about a million Gloria Steinhem worshipers or White House-threatening Madonna’s. You don’t want me to go there. I don’t want to go there.
The continual dropping on a very rainy day and a contentious woman are alike (Proverbs 27:15), so why cause it to storm when it’s quiet and I’m perfectly dry?
I just dried out from having to move in the rain, so I don’t need to invite a million drips of estrogen rage. I’ll just keep praying for our new President; he can break out his own umbrella – I hear it’s huuuge.