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Meet Rhys
Over the past couple of years, we’ve lost several of our older dogs. We lost our OG puppy, Winston, our German Shepherd Dog, and our first puppy together. We also lost two of his kids. Maggie was the first. The most recent one was my girl Rynna, the OG puppy that we didn’t even mean to keep.
With the state of the world, I rolled my grief into buying a puppy to fill the gap Rynna and Winston being gone left.
Meet Rhys. He’s a tricolor Pembroke Welsh Corgi. He was born November 29 2024. Nicknames already include Reese Peesy, loaf, and potato. He’s already best friends with our tuxedo cat Pandy Paws. He’s the perfect filler and distraction needed right now.
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Welcome?
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This is Life and Death, I Can’t Agree to Disagree
Agree to disagree is for things like pineapple on pizza. Tax distribution. Even school levies.
What it’s not about is things like protecting trans persons and gender-affirming care. Availability of abortion, birth control, and reproductive services like IVF. The legality of gay marriage. The separation of church and state.
I refuse to back down on holding people who support politicians who threaten my very life and the lives of those I love accountable and/or cutting them out of my life. Supporting those politicians in any way, shape, or form, means you support my death. Literally.
It’s exhausting when the media and entire country now want to tell us we should back down. Agree to disagree. Be kind.
Where was the kindness when legislation is moving through that would mean I’d be dead right now? That my children wouldn’t exist? That my family members’ legal marriages would be overturned? That my friends wouldn’t be living their best lives as their identified gender?
When a group of people show you who they are, by threatening a CIVIL WAR if we don’t sit down and let them take over?
OH hell no. So no, I won’t agree to disagree. And you asking me to is literally asking me to be okay with being dead.
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Welcome?
Not even sure what the fuck I’m doing here. I recently decided that I may as well pile yet more onto my plate and get back to blogging.
Writing for work isn’t enough, I guess. Whatever.
With my limited free time, I have decided to add more to my plate and try another go at blogging. We’ll see how long this lasts.
For those who don’t know me, I’m Angie. I’m a 40-something Working Midwest Mom. Ope.
I plan to use this space to brain dump. This could mean rehashing infertility trauma, losing my parents, whatever brain worm I am currently dealing with, all the way to talking about work-related stuff like SEO.
I’m figuring why limit myself, let’s make this a real mess. Welcome to the shitshow, enjoy the ride.
