So the Women Are Marching on Washington, D.C.?

So I read that women are marching on Washington, D.C. today.

And there was a photo comparing how many people attended Trump's inauguration yesterday

versus the crowds of women storming the Capitol today. 

Maybe some sweet day I'll be part of a huge crowd of people making a scene about something important to me,

but this morning, this woman was up before 6:30 to help get lunches packed for three nephews

and seeing them off on their way back home to PA.

This woman's girls and she packed potato salad and sandwiches and cookies and apples and toffee peanuts and Christmas candy into a sack and filled water bottles.

This woman stood by her husband as he led in prayer for blessing and safety on the road,

and gave all the nephews a hug--'cause she misses the nephews and nieces on her side of the family.

And 'cause she cares about them and wants God's guidance and care for each of their lives.

And she watched her kids watch out the doorway and honk several truck or van horns in friendly goodbyes.

 Yeah, there are tens of thousands of women on Capitol Hill today yelling and screaming and waving posters and raising fists and sacrificing nice breakfasts for granola bars 

just like demonstrators yesterday were urged to do,
acting like anything but ladies.
(Bless all the empty granola bar shelves in the stores of Washington, D.C.)

This lady enjoyed crockpotting elk for supper for her family last night

and showing hospitality to some hungry boys traveling through from a mission trip to Mexico.

 There will probably be a day down the road when I'll be eating my own granola bar,

but today I'd rather have scalloped potatoes and green beans, crockpotted elk and cherry cobbler.

 Oh--with raspberry chocolate icecream dolloped on top!
Enjoy your granola bars there on Capitol Hill, ladies!

I'm busy making buckwheat pancakes with maple syrup from Costcos,

I'm just as happy with potato chowder and toast as with a granola bar on Capitol Hill any day.

I'd rather be teaching my kids and helping them with spelling tests,

and wiping down kitchen cupboards and vacuuming bedrooms
and scrubbing sinks and toilets and tubs that got forgotten too long
and reading a bedtime story to my youngest children
and lovin' on the new little puppies--even though it means cleaning up behind their mamas!

So go ahead and stand there on Capitol Hill shaking your fists at Trump.

I'll be busy cleaning and hanging freshly laundered quilts and comforters,

and cooking meals for my family and washing dishes afterwards,

thank you very much.

I might be interested in the next march on Washington depending on the purpose.

But I'm not interested in just joining the crowd to shake fists and holler stuff like, "My body, my choice!" or "Not my President!" 

You won't get me on board for all the granola bars in the world.  

I'm too busy being a lady.