Facie’s Ramblings

Litter is my biggest pet peeve. It bothers me even more than when someone uses a hyphen instead of an em or en dash, and that is really saying something. I have said many times, in many mediums that there are only two acceptable reasons to litter: Someone is threatening to kill you if you don't throw your empty McD's bag, water bottle or losing lottery tickets out of the car. Continuing to carry your grocery bag of wing bones, bag of chips, or half-eaten burger will impeded your ability to run away from a would-be assassin. I am tired of people having no regard for their community. But I am even more tired of having to look at it when I walk my dog nearly every day. So most days (not including a couple of winter months) I pick up things along our 1-2 mile neighborhood stroll. Fortunately, because I do this so often, most days I have just a couple of things to pick up. Unfortunately, last year, my perception of litter became more heightened, and I started to become bother...

Yesterday in the 5 o'clock hour, I was happily braiding Jordan's hair. After a few minutes, we heard what sounded like firecrackers. I normally call them fireworks, but because of the popping sound I heard, I am going with firecrackers. I commented to Jordan that I wondered what sort of holiday I had forgotten about, as I could not imagine why some idiots would be setting off fireworks at the end of August. I yelled to Brian, who was making dinner in the kitchen (yes, I am very lucky my hubby cooks), if he had heard the fireworks. He came into the room, looked at me seriously, and said those were not fireworks. Sigh. And, lo and behold, about 20 or so minutes later, Brian got an update on his super-smart phone that said a teenager had been shot outside of the local McDonald's. The same McDonald's I had just taken Jordan to last week. The one where we eat outside at the Play Place whenever it is nice. The one we go to at least once every other month. Between the ...