Friday hodgepodge, my first

Miss - iss - i - ppi
I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I really enjoyed it, and found her afterward, in which she described her relationship with Mississippi, her home state, quite interesting. She stated that Mississippi is like her mother in the sense that she can talk smack about it, but nobody else better (unless from there as well).

Well, sorry, Kathryn, but what’s up with that place? With Jackson, Mississippi (location of the book), especially? I mean it doesn’t seem to have changed very much.

I received this email yesterday (and last week) about the embattled clinic in Jackson:

Two weeks ago, an anti-abortion extremist invaded the waiting room of the Jackson Women's Health Organization in Jackson, Mississippi. Law enforcement authorities were not only slow to respond when called, but once on site, chose only to talk with the aggressor instead of filing a police report. This is the only abortion provider in the entire state of Mississippi.

Okay, first off, abortion is legal, people. It’s a right that women won back in the 1970s, but perhaps Jackson was still too stunned by the fact that black people were finally considered equal to notice?

And yes, it's true, people protest abortion clinics all over the country, not just in Mississippi. Abortion is what we call, controversial, folks, but c’mon -- it’s the duty of the police to remove the invaders, take the damn police report, and help to ensure that this doesn’t happen again.

I'm a bit skeptical. (And really, ONE clinic in the whole state?).

I’m fairly confident that Jackson has more than one pickup truck displaying the oh-so-ironic combination of “Babies are a Blessing; Choose Life!”and “I used my Economic Stimulus Payment to buy a New Gun” bumper stickers.

I'm glad Mississippi's not my mother.

Graduation?
Why oh why is there such a thing as kindergarten graduation? It’s their first year of school, not their last! It’s somewhat baffling to me, but, that said, I’m of course going to my kinder’s graduation. In mere minutes.

Okay, it was worth the trip. Eevn if the cake was misspelled.



Skunky
We had a run in with a skunk the other night. There seems to be a cute little one cruising the neighborhood. It walked right into our neighbor’s house, through the cat door, to eat some cat chow. It made a stop in our yard because we’ve got the dog food right outside. And remember how much skunks like dog food…

And, of course, it was our dog that got sprayed, not our cat. Our cat stayed perfectly still, while the skunk advanced. She did not move at all. But the dog? The dog? Oh no, he was much too stupid curious. He just had to run right up to poor little skunky. Che, che, che, sprayed the little skunk, right on his head. God does that dog stink.

Just one more reason I’m not a dog person.