Sweating in SoCal

If I were reading a blog post after years of silence from the author, I would expect a good explanation of the intervening time. Well, here’s the thing…

Life has mostly just gone on for me as it has for the rest of you. Work, weekends, family, growing older, Covid, the world burning, flooding, and drying out — somehow all at the same time.

[sfx: loud sound of knocking on wood to distract evil spirits] My family is well. My children are 11 and 13. My husband and I still work at our jobs as a math and English teacher respectively.

I can’t really share details of my daughters’ lives because they’re their own people and they value their privacy. I will say this: Two children can come out of your body and grow up in the same house and still be so different from each other it boggles the mind. And a 13 year-old can be taller than her mother. Who is NOT short.

Here is what is on my mind today. I watched episode 3 of House of the Dragon (HBO) last night. In the first few minutes, an anonymous citizen is being nailed to a post to be eaten alive by crabs. The villain is known as “the crab feeder” owing to this brutal practice. Alas! Overhead the nameless man sees his deliverance! Prince Daemon on dragonback, strafing the enemy with dragon fire. He joyously calls out to his prince to save him. The prince doesn’t see him. In fact, when Prince Daemon lands his giant mount, the man is crushed underfoot without a thought.

Why is this on my mind? Because it’s a metaphor for all people who suffer while the truly powerful fight their petty battles for power and gold. Who gives a shit which pampered, powdered aristocrat inherits the Iron Throne when we’re being eaten by crabs or burned alive by dragons?

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I’m engaged in current events. As we burn up in our 107 degree heat wave, praying that wildfires and mudslides will pass us over this year, it’s hard not to feel like that Westerosi peasant who had no time to be thankful that an indifferent dragonfoot saved him from a slow agonizing death. Sometimes it feels like we’re all waiting to see if we perish from intentional cruelty or from indifferent neglect.

So, that’s the main thing… How are you?

About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius
This entry was posted in Essays/Commentary and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Sweating in SoCal

  1. mrsk6 says:

    I like the way you are protecting your children. I’m sure they are a minute by minute blog post like mine. All that material and it can only live in our heads! I also see that you are not an Oxford Comma girl! This surprises me as we are similar in age. Was it hard for you to drop the second space after a period? I enjoyed your metaphor very much. I’m glad you’re back!

    • Mrs Odie says:

      I’m definitely an Oxford comma girl. If I missed one, it was an accident! I was relieved to drop the second space as a teacher, because it makes everything less complicated to explain.

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