Monday, May 18, 2020


Winters in New England (though this was a mild one, compared to others) are long enough that I forget about bugs.

Bugs are back--crawling, flying, buzzing, darting, sometimes biting.

I only kill the flies.

I take others that are in the house (if I can manage) outside and release them back to the wild--or at least what is 'wild' in a town in Connecticut.

I even take the 'stink bugs' that Bern hates to freedom.

But I don't like bugs much. The interrupt my life in ways I don't appreciate. Bees and wasps drive me inside. Smaller flying bugs land on the book I'm reading and won't go away. Ants climb on my feet and sandals. Butterflies and moths are fine--though the latter spook me a bit. I don't know why.

I feel about most bugs the way the President feels about Inspector Generals. But unlike me, he kills them (fires them!) left and right. Four this month.

Inspector Generals of each part of government are there, by law, to keep a eye out for wrong doing. Many serve though several administrations. They are not supposed to be partisan in any way.

And the President fires them for keeping too close an eye on things.

Mike Pompeo and his wife were being looked at for misusing aides to do menial and personal things for them.

So, keeping an eye out ends up getting you fired.

At least I only kill flies.

I let the rest live.

I wish our President did too--and had people keeping a close eye on him and his administration.

Too much to wish, I guess.

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About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.