All posts by witchyrichy@gmail.com

I Tried, I Really Did

Charli xcx has written the soundtrack for the new Wuthering Heights movie. Two tracks have been released on Apple Music, and in an effort to be more connected to contemporary music, I clicked on the first track, “House.” Atmospheric, electronic music with voices, presumably of Heathcliff and Cathy, woven throughout. I am sure others will find it appealing and intriguing in its edginess. I did not. But I am old and a fan of Kate Bush. Her song, “Wuthering Heights,” came out in 1978 and has been part of my life ever since. The whole album, The Kick Inside, is worth at least one listen.

RIP

Renee Nicole Good was murdered by an agent of the federal government and a fellow human being as she drove in a car with her dog, her wife standing by, having just dropped her child off at school. In the last image we have of her, she seems almost perky as she engages with the agent who will kill her just seconds later.

There were lots of options here for the officer from letting her drive home to recording her license plate to shooting a tire. It takes a lot of raw anger to point a gun in the face of another human being and pull the trigger, only to follow up with a horrible expletive as she lays dying. I heard an adminstration official say that we couldn’t know what was in his mind. I don’t think it’s hard to tell at all what is in his head and his heart.

It takes even more anger and arrogance to immediately blame the dead woman and warn that these kinds of extrajudicial killings might be expected going forward. But, here we are.

Just comply, and you will be fine. Tell that to the many people, mostly black men, who have died because they complied. I think any woman would have hesitated to get out of her car even with friendly folks nearby. She was surrounded by aggressive, heavily armed, masked men. Not a recipe for safety and why many women would choose the bear.

I am tired and angry, feeling helpless and hopeless.


While it is less important in the larger scheme of things, we also lost an icon of the 60s, Bobby Weir. The Grateful Dead has been part of my life and many others for their unique blend of folk, country, rock and psychedelic music.

I wrote about the Dead before, describing their other unique practice of allowing taping of their live shows. Weir discussed it as part of a longer interview with Dan Rather:

The New York Times and Rolling Stone posted their favorite Weir songs. I think I will go with “Cassidy,” his ode to a crew member’s baby named Cassidy and the beat icon, Neal Cassady.

“Fare thee well now
Let your life proceed by its own designs
Nothing to tell now
Let the words be yours, I’m done with mine.”

Lean Toward the Light

I don’t seem to have the energy for long form writing these days. But it doesn’t mean my mind isn’t churning. So, I am going for short takes, often accompanied by a picture.

Lean Towards the Light

I snapped this picture this morning as the sun rose over the woods. The whole plant seemed to be glowing and leaning toward the light.

The more important lesson of this photo, however, is the dirty window. I knew that, by the time I got the tools and cleaned the window, the moment would be gone. I could wait to capture it again tomorrow, but that didn’t seem to be in the spirit of living in the present. So, I snapped it, posted it, and am now sharing it with this bit of advice: no matter how much we try to control life, we will fail. There will be perfect moments when all the pieces seem to fit together. Learn to see and embrace them.

However, after more than six decades in this world, I can tell you that there will be plenty more moments more like my photo: nearly perfect. In those moments, we need to decide how we are going to react. What will we see? what we will embrace? This morning, I decided to embrace the light.

Divided We Fall

Today, I saw a stark and somewhat frightening example of our divided country. I am no stranger to organized religion but have not been actively involved for almost 20 years. I attended a local United Methodist Church in my conservative rural community today as part of a musical commitment. Perhaps I was meant to be there as I needed to see what was happening in church on this Sunday.

I was shocked and then angered as the minister–new to the congregation but on the verge of retiring–lauded Charlie Kirk both at the beginning of the service and during his rambling sermon, a sermon that began with a reminder that the United Methodist Church is an inclusive organization. Ironically, there was no mention of Kirk’s opposition to inclusion or that Turning Point USA is linked to Christian nationalism and white supremacism, very non inclusive movements.

While I was reminding myself to breathe and trying not to mutter under my breath, I had a sickening realization that this minister, who not only followed Kirk but seemed enamored of him and his following, agreed with his beliefs. I mean, if you didn’t, wouldn’t you mention that just to make sure you were being transparent about the complexity of Kirk’s tangled theology? Many of the people in the pews, who probably hadn’t known who Kirk was, left with the notion that a faithful Christian family man was assassinated for sharing his beliefs.

There was also a very odd part of the sermon where the minister talked about how happy he was and how he just didn’t deal with drama. He didn’t ever feel sorry for himself, and he did not tolerate it in others. Since he is new, I wondered who had approached him this week with a personal concern? Don’t worry, pastor. I will not be coming to you when I have a crisis.

He also doesn’t allow the congregation to call out prayer requests as it just got ridiculous in his past congregations, and he didn’t have time for all that. Sometimes, it took 20 minutes! Oh dear, not people sharing their concerns and lives with their spiritual community?

After a primal scream in the car and a long dog walk where I did much more than mutter to myself, I checked out the recording of the service at the United Methodist church my sister attends in Annapolis, Maryland. The minister, a woman probably about the same age as my local one, did not mention Kirk at all. She talked about the challenging week and reminded the congregation that the sanctuary was available for prayer even outside office hours. They just had to give her a call.

At the beginning of her sermon, she spoke about Jesus’s love for all of us and our role in spreading that love and mercy to others. It was lovely and comforting, the way church, in my humble opinion, should be. She is planning to hold monthly healing services on Sunday evenings to help the congregation navigate these often frightening times.

These two churches are in the same denomination, supposedly sharing the same theological beliefs. Both have chosen to stay within the United Methodist church even as other congregations have disaffiliated, mostly over issues related to LGBTQ+ policies, but also because the UMC had gotten too liberal for them. Certainly, individual ministers make a difference so I am hoping more of them chose to take the nonpolitical path of love and mercy as they addressed the violence of the past week. But I worry that isn’t the case, and my experience demonstrates the great divide in which we are living, a divide that, as it is now playing out in people’s most fundamental beliefs, may be impossible to cross.

Big sigh.

I did have a little giggle as I thought about the minister’s admonition that he did not deal with drama or victims. I leave you with Sister Michael from The Derry Girls:

The Karen Conundrum

I am a white woman named Karen. That means that I routinely see my name used as a shorthand for privileged white women asking to see the manager. And, because “karens” are portrayed as complainers, I find myself sucking it up. After all, complaining would just prove that I am a “karen.”

In August 2020, Helen Lewis wrote in The Atlantic, “Karen has become synonymous with woman among those who consider woman an insult. There is now a market, measured in attention and approbation, for anyone who can sniff out a Karen.”[3] Lewis also noted what she called the “finger trap” of the term, saying “What is more Karen than complaining about being called ‘Karen’? There is a strong incentive to be cool about other women being Karened, lest you be Karened yourself.”[3]

Karen. (2025, May 26). In Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_(slang)

Today, I decided to push back a bit. I recently joined a welcoming community of women. This morning’s email used the karen slur twice, once in the email subject line and then in the message itself. I replied to let them know that this did not make me feel welcome. I received a lovely apology and an offer to cancel my account, but I plan to remain.

I do have a sniggle of guilt for speaking up probably from growing up in the “if you can’t say something nice” era. Plus, I hate to make another human being feel badly about themselves. But, a slur is a slur, and if your stated goal is to be welcoming, language must be a priority.