While driving to the coffee shop this morning, the first time I've been there in about two weeks, I heard a guy on NPR talking about the election. I don't even remember what specifically he said, but he talked about how marginalized people form blocs and act in ways they might not otherwise out of an instinct for self-preservation.
I thought about the BLM movement and its predecessors, incl. the Black Panthers. But in this context the reference was to Trump voters. I think he was suggesting that white males (and others) feel left behind, disenfranchised, and threatened by the country's rapid directional and economic shifts. They'll grasp at what they see as potential solutions, accepting what (who) they wouldn't otherwise consider out of a sense of desperation.
And then I thought how that dynamic may characterize portions of the fundamental Christian community. Because they (we) feel threatened by cultural and legal shifts, and perceived/real changes, some have latched on to individuals and movements they see as offering a hope of preservation.
But the risk is that the disenfranchised will align with a person or movement with inconsistent values that they overlook for the hope of the promised deliverance. It's surprising what people will ignore once they get caught up in a feeling of persecution and come across someone who says, "I'll fix everything."
Because my chain saw was out of commission (Pam got the parts while she was in town to do laundry this afternoon) I took the morning off except for that coffee shop work. This afternoon I installed the gate for the goat pen, which took some, uhm, creative adjustments. Yes, I used a belt sander and a big hammer, but it's installed and swings freely. I think the latch setup will be goat-proof, but as with the rest of this I'm prepared to beef it up if necessary.
I've decided on names, now I have to figure out how to make signs that look appropriate for our setting. The pen will be Boerdom (as in Boer goats) and their shed/mini-barn will be Chateau de Chevon (chevon is the French word for goat meat).
While working on the gate this afternoon I thought about how much I enjoy building things, raising animals, even setting up the firewood. I miss preaching and teaching, but I find it very fulfilling to work with my hands, especially creating and caring for animals, this whole pioneer life thing. I realize it's not for everyone, but it's hard for me to imagine why anyone, if they had the option, would choose living in a concrete jungle surrounded by noise and all things artificial when they could be immersed in nature. I'm adjusting to the new view minus the 40+ trees they removed and it's still beautiful. Across the creek is a hill covered with fir and alder trees so thick I can't see 10' into it.
T'ank you, Fadder.
One of the teenage boys across the road is going to collect eggs each evening and make sure the chickens have food and water while we're gone. I build the coop so eggs can be gathered by lifting a door on the side that gives access to the nest boxes. No need to go in the coop.
I told Pam it would be fun to put something in one of the nest boxes that would give him pause when he gathers eggs tomorrow evening.
Something totally wrong for a nest box, like a toy car, or a printer cartridge.
I could put a couple of slices of BACON in there, except the chickens would probably eat it before he ever got there.
Two more sleeps and we'll see our kids and grandkids again. Sure looking forward to that.
Tomorrow night from somewhere in the central CA valley.
ROAD TRIP!
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