When the U.S. Guts the State Department

The new diminished Department of State showed this slide at a recent global conference, which misplaces every single African Country. Take a look. The Côte d’Ivoire, like it’s name, has a coast. The map shows it is landlocked. The nations are scattered. In Africa, right enough, but with no concern for their actual location. The Department of State took full responsibility and pointed the finger at a young person who OK’d an AI reprentation of the map, and who clearly had no idea where the nations really were.
State Department professionals were once educated. They were once conscientious about presentations. This map is more than inaccurate. It is disrespectful.
Please. Bring back professionalism. Please. Bring back real facts, data, and respectful behavior. Bring back a focus on creating and maintaining diplomatic relationships. Our current representation brings shame and disrespect upon our country.
We are neither feared nor respected “like never before.” The world looks in horror at our tasteless, ignorant, ill-mannered leader’s infatuation with trophies, gilt, flattery, and explosions, at the cost of dignified, peaceful relationships with our allies.
Life is so much smoother with friends, allies, and good will.
If nothing else, get the maps right.
How a Grown Up Ends a War and Wins

It is not my intention here to give our current president a strategy for a gracious exit from the War with Iran. I am writing this only because I believe he is incapable of adopting my solution.
Years ago, my very smart husband, AdventureMan and I played strategic board games. One time, I beat him in only six moves, at which point he stood up and stomped his foot (a very strong statement from a normally restrained man) and yelled “You can’t do that! It’s unorthodox!”
And that’s how wars are won. Yes, you can waste billions on sophisticated weaponry, and have a lot of fun with bombs and destruction. High T at work. You can also waste lives, and I believe that is a crime against your country. Our young people are not expendable.
We’ve all started fights we can’t win. It’s wired into us as human beings. What is the way out?
“I’ve made a big mistake. I take full responsibility. I’m sorry I got us into this mess, and now, I am going to do everything in my power to make it right.”
Those words, and the humility it takes to say them, save relationships, re-establish peace, and a firm foundation for moving forward.
It takes a grown-up to say them. It takes a grown-up to even think them. To continue on a losing path is wasteful and self-destructive.
We are not winning.
It’s time to own up, exit, and begin rebuilding our alliances.

New York’s Participation Trophy for Trump and his Iranian debacle. Everyone invited to contribute; no achievement too paltry to commemorate. The more gilt, the merrier.
Sunday at the Veterinary Emergency Clinic

My normal Sunday morning is quiet and contemplative. I get up early, whisper a quick “I’m going to church now” to Adventure Man and head out to what we jokingly call The Express Service. It’s for the quiet people who want to worship without a lot of embellishments and move on. Our priests are very good at respecting people’s time and creating a serene atmosphere for worship.
On my bathroom mirror is an ominous yellow sticky that says “wake me when you get up to talk about Uhtred.”
Uhtred is seeping blood and pus on his left flank. We know there are no options, we dress quickly to get to the Vet Emergency Care before the rest of the world awakes – we’ve been there before. It’s the only game in town, and weekends are busy.
We sign in. As they take Uhtred to the back to give him a superficial exam, a man comes in carrying a huge dog – maybe 80 pounds – who does not look like he is breathing.
We are updated on Uhtred’s condition and moved to a small room. A tech came by with water and an update – due to an all-hands-on-deck emergency, less urgent cases are on hold, Uhtred being a less urgent case.
We wait six hours. During these six hours, I take a break to go outside and walk; walking helps me calm my anxiety and keeps me sane. As I walk, I see another prostate dog come in on a stretcher, and desperate people with cages arriving. We’re under a high heat warning. It’s affecting our animals, too. We’re all desperate. We love our animals, and this is the only emergency treatment center open on Sunday in town. The wait seems endless.
A very competent doctor comes in and gives us two options: a stabilization one where we get him to our own vet the next day, and a complete treatment one, where they get to him when they can, but there are higher priority cases, and they just keep arriving, and they won’t get to him until late in the day. We opt for stabilization; we’d actually prefer Uhtred be treated by our own somewhat eccentric vet who has known us for years, and has treated all our cats.
We leave the clinic in relief after six hours with a cleaned-up, medicated cat in an “E” collar (for Elizabethan) to keep him from licking his wound.
As we leave, something extraordinary happens, something we have never seen before. The clinic closes its doors to incoming patients. There is one doctor, and 40+ situations awaiting her attention. Until they can bring in more emergency staff, they cannot deal with more. My heart goes out to them all, those who are trying to triage and treat these desperate cases, and those who are turned away when there are no other options.
We have a family dinner later in the day, this one an adult-only dinner where we discuss family situations and discuss options. We love these dinners, meeting with our son and his wife quietly, relaxed and open. We make a great team.
My daughter-in-law tells me there IS another option, further north, where we can take our animals under emergency conditions, a place they really like. Another resource! I am so thankful; I’ve never heard of this place, and it relieves my future anxieties about our animal emergencies.
Tightrope, No Safety Net

It is astonishing and hiliarious what you can find on the internet these days if you look. I entered “image Trump on a tightrope” and came up with more than I had hoped for.
We are in dangerous times. Our President is reckless, and leaves a trail of wreckage. All the guardrails, so carefully set up to avoid corruption, abuse, waste and degradation have been dismantled. The watchers have been fired. The laws have been weakened, if not destroyed.
The relationships with reliable allies have been demolished with bravado, as if it were a good thing not to have cooperative friends.
A civilized society operates within constraints. It demonstrates self-restraint for the greater good of all. Have you ever heard this President exhibit a single concern for the citizens of the USA? Any note indicating a desire to serve and protect? You know, like the oaths of public service require?
The safety nets are gone. ICE operates with impunity; poorly trained, without accountability, preying on the most vulnerable among us. We are told in the earliest books of our religion to “welcome the stranger.” We are told by the crooks, rapists and bad people in charge that the immigrants are “crooks, rapists and bad people.” They have little protection, and, it seems, no longer have the rights guaranteed by the court system so carefully developed.
Our president and his family skim billions from the economy and deals made on the basis of presidential power. Croneys make billions from an endless war which serves no purpose and has no credible way of ending.
Our trusted institutions teeter on collapse.

I pray for our country, as I watch with horror and anticipate the next outrageous proclamations of the president and his confederacy of dunces.
The Gift That Keeps on Giving

WordPress provides a prompt question every day and occasionally, I can’t resist. Todays is about the best purchase I ever made.
We were at a transition point in our lives, leaving the military, facing a temporary geographic separation (AdventureMan off to Saudi Arabia) and he said to me something I’ve always loved, that I’ve been a good wife and to buy a house any where I wanted.
I knew where that would be. I had a clever Mom who, every time I visited her, had set up a realtor to show us condominiums. She always said it was so that when they downsize, they would understand the options, but I also believe she had another agenda – to show me the options. Or so I suspected; my Mom often held her cards close to her chest and I would have to guess at her intentions. Whether or not she intended, she did sell me on the location.
AdventureMan drove one of our cars across the country and spent two days looking at options. He came back excited.
Then when he came back, we packed out everything we intended to keep and sent it to storage. Adventureman departed for Saudi Arabia and I kept working until our house sold, then moved temporarily to an apartment. I looked at a slew of places, and bought a house that looked very boring, but in the community I loved .
The house wasn’t as boring as it looked. What made it look boring was the wall-to-wall beige carpeting. Before I moved in, I had it all ripped out and had natural oak wood floors installed. It seemed horrendously expensive but it had a WOW factor – the house looked gorgeous.
I lived in the house for two years, AdventureMan and I having telephone dates and him dropping into town every few months for conjugal visit, LOL. Then, he got permission for me to live with him in Saudi Arabia.
We rented out the house. We’ve rented it out all these years, only one change in renters, never a single vacant month. I love the house still, and it was the best investment we ever made.
Within a few years, rental income had paid off the mortgage. Every year since then is gravy. We visit the renters now and then to check on the house; they are doing a good job at protecting those beautiful floors. They’d like to buy the house, but we have promised it to our son, who loves it too.
By far, the best purchase we ever made.
What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

New York Times reports Trump Administration is said to have reached a broad nuclear deal with Saudi Arabia.
Bab el Mendeb and the Strait of Hormuz
Most people have no idea why these chokepoints are so important until they see it with their own eyes. Here is what they look like on Google Earth.
The Bab el Mendeb is at the tip of Djibouti, on the left. The Strait of Hormuz is between Iran and the northern tip of Oman, on your right. Qatar is that little thumb of land sticking out in the Persian Gulf.
Saudi Arabian oil and Qatari natural gas are blocked if these two chokepoints are no longer open.

Four years ago, during the last World Cup, we were on the Oceania Nautica and went through the Suez Canal, the Bab el Mandeb, and the Strait of Hormuz. We booked this tour especially to see these geographic chokepoints. We were shocked when there was no lecture on these geographic features, their origins, or their importance as shipping lanes – and there was no announcement when we went through the Bab or the Strait. Imagine!
CrisisGroup.Org
Because I follow – or try to follow – piracy in Somalia, I go down rabbit holes. Some rabbit holes lead you to the most amazing places, including a comprehensive update on an upsurge in Somalian piracy and root causes.
The rabbit holes led me to this fascinating group, Crisisgroup.org. I’m always curious who is behind these organizations – this organization, out of Brussels, seems to keep watch on some far-flung and, to U.S. readers, sometimes obscure potential events, which, when they explode, we wonder why we never heard of these fomenting conflicts.



Sad. It’s Not About You.

How will we get through this long hot summer now that the World Cup has ended?
The Limit on TBR (To Be Read)
Pensacola is HOT. We’re hitting 90+ degrees F. every day.

The streets are crowded with tourists, here for a High-T weekend of Blue Angels and their annual airshow. Pensacola is proud, very proud, of the Blue Angels, and, after a while, you just learn to steer clear of Pensacola Beach, any road leading to Pensacola Beach, and the popular restaurants on Blue Angels weekend. Unless you love crowds, fighting for a parking space, roasting in the sun and thirsting for cold drinking water – in which case Blue Angels on the Beach is right for you.
The heat saps my energy. I’m up early, trying to get steps in while I still have a breeze off the Bayou and before we hit our daily high temperature. There are days when you open the door and just gasp when the heat hits you in the face. Today, I am just sluggish. I missed my morning swim, which always cools me off and energizes me.
These are great days for reading. I have lots of choices; I can finish the book (again) that I am leading for Book Club in September (David Howard’s 1066) or I can escape with a hot-off-the-shelf best seller, or I can plunge back into the Hunger Games series from the beginning, which should give me a good week of escapism.

There is a limit – the top of my chair. You’d think that would be enough, but no, I have a backup TBR book-case for just in case I read everything on my TBR chair. 😊

Or I can postpone anything too demanding and write a post to HT&E. 😊

