Yesterday was a heavenly day of hanging out with Annabelle and Luke, but today my friend Julia and her daughters, sister Cathy, and I joined hundreds of other rainy day women (and some men) at the state capitol to try to preserve the rights of women in Arkansas.
In between, we finally bought a new Lollymobile, but that can wait until tomorrow. This is more important.
As I’ve said before, this is not a political blog, and I try hard to stay away from political topics. They consume enough of my life and time as it is. But things are going in reverse in Arkansas, when it comes to women’s rights and reproductive freedom. And I can’t stay quiet about that.
The same state that gave rise to Hilary Clinton is making Wilma Flintstone seem uber-progressive. Actually, Wilma was pretty liberated for the wife and mother in a stone-age family. Perhaps I should change that reference to Melanie Wilkes – though she was a steely spined gal in her soft-mannered ways.
You get the point, anyway, I hope. We’re going backward in time, or forward, to a dystopian future for women, like the one envisioned by Margaret Atwood in A Handmaid’s Tale, if things don’t get turned around.
I have no interest living in the Republic of Gilead and neither do my friends and family, so for the future and our loved ones, our group walked in the cold, drizzly weather to the capitol grounds to join the protest. After a couple of hours, we were bedraggled and cold, but the discomfort was well worth it.
I was a bit surprised by the hostile stares from a group sitting in the window at Vino’s as we walked home with our signs, but whatever.
Someone has to take a stand.
We’ve come too far to be dragged back to the dark ages. We owe it to our kids and grandkids not to allow it to happen.