Going to start with the obvious today: What the fuck, Tennessee and Kansas?

Both situations exhibit such extreme ugliness, such cruelty and shamelessness. I went to bed appalled, and I woke up appalled, and the only silver lining here is that those three Tennessee legislators have instantly become national shining lights.

Tell me again how Republicans are pro-child and pro-family? Seems to me they'd rather mow down an entire generation . . . maybe that's the way to keep young people from voting against them.

Ugh. I'll stop now. I know I'm preaching to the choir. But honestly: how can much more can our children take?

* * *

Despite my fury, I slept well last night, for the first time in days, so that was a plus. Today is mostly going to be housework and meal prep: my in-laws are arriving this evening, and I'm hoping to find soft-shell crabs for dinner, and I need to dust and vac and stow away stacks of books, and maybe along the edges I'll edit a little or work on my essay or dig another poem draft out of my notebook.

I went out to write last night, and on the way home I drove through streets full of people and realized that the Sea Dogs game had just ended, first minor-league baseball game of the season, featuring Red Sox star pitcher Garrett Whitlock, so that was a cozy summery feeling, even though everyone on the street was wrapped in winter coats. And apparently Whitlock did great, so yay, and tickets to see him only cost $4.90.

I'm not going to denigrate any little flicker of happiness. A baseball game. A poem draft. My radishes seeds have sprouted. I slept a full night. My furnace works and the lights turn on. My children vote Democratic and so do all of their friends. They've got a lot of work ahead if they want to save the world. But they seem pretty determined.