Hole/Whole

Posted on June 1, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

Hole/Whole

“A great hole. In the middle of nowhere. The hole is an exact replica of the Great Hole of History.”
Suzan-Lori Parks, The America Play

Holes in history. Unnamed people, not rich, not important enough, not the right color or sex.

Clang! Thud!
Unburied, unearthed, fragments–
more questions.

The way we see the moon, in phases. But it’s always full, always there. Proximity, time, ever-changing faces. Pockmarked. Whole.

Holes
when a star dies,
ghost light

travels through time-space. Blinks to photons. Billions of years to us. So much light streaming in cloud-cracks, creating shadows. Buried, it reappears.

there in a tidepool. In a glass of wine. Glow.

Reborn
same laugh, same gestures,
generations

we don’t know but embody. Bodies. Memory-holes. False memories. Holes in the fabric of history, society, time.

The light in our eyes gone. Bone-dust in holes, in clouds, rivers, oceans, the air. Connected. Past and future. Hole-digging.
Bullet holes,
bomb craters,
deconstruction.

construction and reconstruction.

Holes. A whole lot.
Half-notes. Whole.

Hello, again! Something a little different today. I think people will probably hate it or love it. I was inspired by the play we saw on Saturday, The America Play by Suzan-Lori Parks. You can read more about it here.(Tria for wine, beer, and cheese afterwards.)

From the notes of director and character, “Foundling Father,” Lindsay Smiling”:

“Suzan-Lori Parks calls it ‘rep and rev’ repeat and revise. It’s a musical instruction as much as a philosophy. Return to a phrase, a moment, a wound, a myth. Play it again differently. With this lens, the reexamination of history becomes than a collection of facts. It is Parks’ insistence that history is not a fixed record so much as a performance we keep staging, sometimes faithfully, often carelessly, and too frequently, as suggests by setting this play at a replica of ‘The Great Hole of History” with whole people missing from the scene.”

The more I think about this play, the more I admire it. I like plays, books, movies that make me think. Of course, I’m always thinking about history, but right now there are real, physical holes that I can see, as well as the metaphorical ones. There’s the monstrosity of the White House and what the current resident (inmate?) is doing to it. Illegally. There are probably holes in his brain. There are gaps in his knowledge and understanding of the Constitution, laws, history, democracy, and on. His regime is trying to erase people and events. Websites are beginning scrubbed. Displays on slavery taken down, including this year at the President’s House in Philadelphia, which a judge stopped, at least temporarily.

At the same time, there are archeological holes dug every summer at the park where I walk. It was the site of an American Revolutionary War battle. History is still being done. The United States was never a Christian nation. It was always a nation that held people of many religions and colors. It has always been a nation of immigrants, even as restrictions have been put into place during various times.
This administration has been demonizing immigrants, especially those of color. These are NOT the worst of the worst. At Delaney Hall, where there are currently protests taking place because of the horrendous concentration camp treatment given to the detainees there, approximately 87% do NOT have criminal records. We heard one of our senators, Andy Kim, speak at a town hall style meeting on Thursday night. He had been inside the facility, a teenage girl, a high school senior, who wants only to graduate translated for him. He spoke with a woman who has been mostly separately from her newborn; a woman who miscarried, who has not received medical care; pregnant women who are not getting prenatal care. He heard about inedible food, saw the court docket—one judge who was supposed to rule on seventy-some cases a day, and on and on.

New Jersey has a primary election tomorrow. We voted early on Saturday. On Sunday morning we participated in the local weekly protest we haven’t done for a while. Some people there had been to Delaney Hall. One woman, a social worker, described how Proud Boys got a police escort, while protestors did not. We may be protesting more in the next few weeks. There are No Kings activities scheduled on June 14th, including a big concert in New York, as counterprogramming to the man in the White House’s fight fest extravaganza. (Seriously, imagine the outcry if ANY other president did this!)

https://riseupsingout.com

On Sunday afternoon, we went to a book club meeting. We discussed West With Giraffes, a novel inspired by a real event, two giraffes transported by truck across the country from NYC to San Diego during the Great Depression. I think this time opinion was evenly distributed between people who liked the book (I did) and people who did not. Some people, including my daughter, thought it was boring and repetitive. I did not. Most people who listened to the book did not like the narrator. Several people loved the book and rated it among the best books they’ve read. It wasn’t for me, but I did enjoy it and got caught up in the story. I saw a movie in my mind the whole time of this Depression era tale. I do think it would make a good movie. It was a beautiful day, so we got to sit outside at the brewery for this meeting. I don’t drink beer, but my husband, who had not read the book, enjoyed the beer and the pizza we ordered.

OK. I’ll stop here. Stand up for justice however you can. Stay safe and well.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Book Review: Scrap by Luanne Castle

Posted on May 20, 2026 by merrildsmith

Scrap: Salvaging a Family by Luanne Castle

From the back cover: “Scrap: Salvaging a Family is a hybrid flash memoir tracing the long shadow of childhood fear and the complexities of forgiving a dying parent. As a daughter uncovers her father’s painful origins, she begins to understand the man behind the anger–and reclaims pieces of herself in the process.”

This is a long overdue review. I’ve admired Luanne Castle’s writing for a long time, and I was eager to read Scrap. Scrap is beautifully crafted, with the word “scrap” in imagery and metaphor throughout. The book’s epigraph from Umberto Eco states, “We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.”

Although I knew the book detailed Castle’s troubled relationship with her father, the way both parents treated her as a child affected me. After starting the book, I had to put it down for some time—but not because it’s not good. I simply was not in the right frame of mind to read it then, so soon after my older sister’s sudden death, and as I was approaching the anniversaries of my parents’ deaths. I never experienced any cold behavior or harsh treatment from my parents. Of course, they were flawed beings, as are we all, but I was never spanked, had my mouth washed out with soap, or forced to sit at the table till I cleaned my plate. I was pleased that Castle states at one point that despite everything, she never doubted her parents’ love for her, and she and her father reconcile.

Once I returned to Scrap, I read it through in one afternoon. I couldn’t stop; I was so caught up in the story! The book begins with the revelation that her father was a bastard. Castle explains the several meanings of the word, and how in the time and place in which her father grew up, it was a stigma that left him shamed and angry. To me, it seems that secrecy more than illegitimacy produced generations of suffering. Castle’s father’s father was a well-respected doctor who not only had this secret family, but who also doctored his own past.

The book is written mostly in brief, impressionistic flash stories. Each is a moment; a memory filtered through time. Just as the collage on the book cover is made up of individual words and images to make one possible whole, so do the stories in Scrap. (Castle’s brother is barely mentioned, and she explains he had a very different relationship with their father.) Castle’s writing is lyrical, imagistic, and assured, as it should be after years of honing. I don’t think Castle could have written this book earlier. Like a good stew, it needed to simmer. The flavors had to blend over time, a little of this and that had to be added. Scrap is a book to be savored for its originality and perspective.

Luanne, it’s cat-approved!

Scrap can be purchased through the publisher or Amazon.

https://elj-editions.com/scrap-salvaging-a-family/

In Dark Times

Posted on May 4, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

In Dark Times

“Even in the darkest of times we have the right to expect some illumination”
—Hannah Arendt, Men in Dark Times

Green,
born of Sun’s yellow and Earth’s blue,
becomes something of its own, as all offspring do–

oxygen, chlorophyl, a process creating vegetation,
calls bees and birds,

trees that root themselves with fierce determination
draw strength through capillaries of time,

it’s a process.

How quickly it can vanish! A volcano
can create a year without summer or bury a city in ash;

droughts, floods, fire, bombs,

a dictator, complicit courts—

we cease to exist without light,
it finds its way into dungeons,

and those who can, hold matches,
candles, flash beacons
for others to find the way out.

On the blackest nights,
the stars shine beyond
battleship grey clouds,

the light is there, is always there.

Our eyes have evolved,
so we can see reflected,
the bluest blue
and greenest green,

and look!
see how the irises with their long,
elegant necks, raise their faces
to the sun, the light.

Hello again. I fear it may be a long, unsettled summer. Many people are warning it may get worse before it gets better. The non-war war with Iran, the war in Ukraine, the diminished and demented man in the White House, the gutting of the Voting Rights Act. . .it’s hard to keep track of it all. Joyce Vance’s post this morning covers some of the legal happenings this week. Heather Cox Richardson’s letter today detailed the demented one’s crazed and racist social media rants, one after the other on Friday night. His lunacy should be called out every single day by the media and lawmakers. This is not normal behavior.

In addition, the crazy weather has created a disaster for farmers in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware. The frost after the unseasonable warm temperature wiped out many crops, including apples, peaches, sugar plums, and various wine grapes. They may get some second growth, but there will be smaller yields this year. That means higher prices. I imagine farmers are already facing problems with the high gas prices and perhaps fertilizer scarcity. But yes, let build that ballroom with taxpayer money and paint the reflector pool. Let’s close public golf course and nature areas so our King, his family, and cronies can get richer. Let’s forget about healthcare and food programs for children. . . let them eat cake.

And what about the Epstein Files?!!

Thank you to all who are protesting, writing letters, organizing, and speaking out. Honestly, I had to take some time off. On Thursday night, we went to Blue Cork Winery for the book club, my daughter runs. We discussed, The Correspondent. I think everyone really loved the book, except for one person, who didn’t dislike it, but who expected more after all the hype. It’s an epistolary novel, and the letters do such a great job of carrying the story along. We did have pizza, but I didn’t take a picture of it. 😉

One day this week, I saw a creature swimming along in the Delaware River, close to the beach. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it may have been a river otter.

Creature swimming in the Delaware River in early May.

On Friday, I participated in the online launch of Paul Short’s The Book Bag anthology, Unwhispered Legacy. It was a wonderful afternoon (evening for most of them) of poetry reading. The book is free to download, but there is an optional donation for Médecins Sans Frontières / Doctors without Borders.

On Sunday, I participated in Paul Short’s The Book Bag Open Mic. It also was a truly warm and supportive gathering to hear some brilliant poetry. And towards the end, it moved into various poets reading cat poems!

Wishing you all a good week.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Everyone is happy when Penzey’s Spices arrive!

Come, April

Posted on April 6, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Afternoon Musings

Come, April

my world is springing—
pastel colors like Conversation Hearts,

“Be Mine” the blossoms seem to say,
the daffodils in cheerful yellow, a tulip
with flirting wink and lipstick smile sways,
catching the confetti
thrown from the trees—pink and white,
such a delight–
stay, I think, of the sunshine days—
in-between the showers

of hate-filled rants
and dropped bombs, shattering,
scattering, battering,

structures, erasing facts,
elevating crooks—
we’re on tenterhooks,

I float in a bubble
afraid it will pop

hope for glass
with a sturdy base—

half-full,
we go all-in.

Hello again! Another roller-coaster week, which seems to be the new normal. There’s more talk of enacting the Twenty-fifth Amendment, but how likely is this inept and spineless cabinet to do anything like that? Not that I want Vance (for those outside the US, he’s the VP), but the current man in the job is insane. It appears that the US has already committed war crimes, but he’s advocating more. Scary times. And I’m afraid too many are still unaware—which is how we got into this mess. And the focus is off of the Epstein Files (RELEASE THEM ALL NOW!)

The weather, too, is crazy. One day cold, the next unseasonably warm. On different days, we had the heat and the a/c on last week! But in-between spring is bursting out. Every day there are new blooms.

Last Wednesday night was the start of Passover. Unfortunately, my husband came down with something, so we did not celebrate that night. Fever and chills—he had blankets piled on him in 80+ degree temperatures and slept nearly all afternoon and at night, too. By the next day, he was feeling much better.

Matzo time though. On Friday night, I made us matzo pizzas. Not as good as real pizza, but not bad.

Our family dinner/Seder was on Saturday. As usual, I cooked for days. We had a mid-afternoon meal because no one wants to drive in the dark anymore. Fortunately, this time of year, it’s not dark until around 7:30 PM. It was wonderful to have almost everyone there. We did our usual untraditional Seder and play. Our kitty boys were brave and stayed downstairs even though my niece had brought her dog. I don’t think they bothered him too much. It was a warm day, but cooled off that night, and yesterday it was cool and rainy. We didn’t go to the local protest on Easter Sunday because I was tired from the day before—and then it rained.

We’re at the final episode of How to Get to Heaven from Belfast. Then we’ll finish the last two episodes of Dark Winds. I’m reading this thriller, The Ghostwrite by Julie Clark—so good. I have a huge stack of poetry books to read and review, too.

As you probably know, this is Poetry Month, so I’ll probably be back with another poem later today.

I had this mostly written, but then we left to see a morning showing (what?!) of the movie, Project Hail Mary, and we just got home. It was excellent. We both enjoyed it (and the book).

Keep fighting the good fight.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

NaPoWriMo 2026-Day2

Posted on April 2, 2026 by merrildsmith

Begin with This

My sister and I
at the library with my mom,
tiny seedlings, we stand
on the floor vents
in the children’s section
so, our skirts become
upside-down flower bells—

from the shelves
I choose Chicken Soup with Rice
and learn that in every season
soup is nice–

let it simmer –sip it twice–

savor
as a poem of peals and peels
seasoned with saffron and savvy,
carrot-rooted in tradition,
aged in the right conditions,
a this and that mish-mash
made with love.

For the NaPoWriMo Day 2 challenge:

“Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own poem in which you recount a childhood memory. Try to incorporate a sense of how that experience indicated to you, even then, something about the person you’d grow up to be.”

I’m making vegetarian matzo ball soup right now for a family dinner later this week.

Of Hammers, Bells, and Light

Posted on March 23, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

Of Hammers, Bells, and Light

“Well, I got a hammer
And I got a bell
And I got a song to sing
All over this land
It’s the hammer of justice
It’s the bell of freedom
It’s the song about love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land.”
–Pete Seeger, “If I had a Hammer” (1949)

“Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean”
–William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, “Prologue”

From fogged tongues
of slate and ash, now come

color-dyed clouds
after the brilliant breath of blue,

come merry yellow, butter-rich,
and shades of chartreuse, lime, moss

to heal the heart
of winter-darkness,

of hammered dread
and endless speculation,

of destruction–

come birds in rounds
of song, and arrows of flight

that pierce the sky
with joy, and love, not the rage-skein

of human warbirds
metal winged, smashing eggs

and life,
laying only blight,

cast off unclean hands,
rinse hearts and psyche

of disapproving clucks
and shadows calling the shots,

open the gates

to the possibility of flower song,

ring the bells in joyous tintinnabulation
for spring’s light is a gift, a celebration.

Hello again! I will be happy when I don’t wake every day wondering what horror happened overnight. That anyone can defend the deteriorating and demented felon, rapist, probable pedophile is beyond me. And I really do blame the people who voted for him. How could you not know what he is—and he’s so much worse now. So, you didn’t like the price of eggs?! I don’t know where this will end, but I’m afraid it might get worse before it gets better.

And yet, and yet, and yet—it’s spring. And life goes on.

Last Monday, we were under a tornado watch for much of the day. Then the temperature dropped, we had some windy and cold days. Then the sun was in and out of the clouds, we saw some beautiful blue skies, the daffodils started blooming, and now it’s rainy and dreary again. Oh, March!

We had another busy week—mostly good.

On Thursday night, the virtual session of one of the book clubs I’m in met for a discussion of Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes. It was a small group, but a lively discussion. One person hated the book, several were disappointed, and then some liked it. I didn’t love it, as I expected to. I know I read it decades before. I love the concept of the evil carnival and the time-merry-go-round, and Bradbury’s writing. Overall, I was glad to reread it, but the book does seem dated now. My husband thoroughly enjoyed re-reading the book. I’m happy to see him reading novels again.

I very much enjoyed Skylark and My Name is Emilia Del Valle. I finished both, and now I am zipping through The Correspondent, for an April Blue Cork Book Club meeting. It’s hard to put down!

On Saturday, we returned to the Arden Theatre in Philadelphia. (They have two theaters in the building.) This time to see Romeo and Juliet. My husband and I both thought it was an excellent production. Both Romeo and Juliet seemed like the young teens they were, caught up in the blood feuds and hatred of their elders. The costumes were a mix of current and period styles. The staging was very well done. Some actors spoke from up in the audience—including right next to us—and Juliet’s balcony was high in another aisle. Then we went back to Old City Vino—because why not? We’re happy to see they’re doing so well. And we loved this wine.

On Sunday morning, we had to make a call to the plumbers to fix our toilet. We only have one, so it was an emergency. We were very fortunate that he was able to come right out, and we were still able to get to our usual Sunday morning protest. This time they had a small brass band, which was fun.

For some reason, my family decided it was Sunday call Merril day—which was a lovely surprise. I heard from my sister-in-law, then older child FaceTimed me with granddaughter Sylvia, then later that night my niece called me because she read some beautiful (and surprising) cards my dad had sent to my deceased sister, her mother.

I made us pizza to eat while we watched the Peaky Blinders movie. (I froze two for another time.) I finished our wine from Old City Vino, while my husband drank a “special” beer. Since it’s just come out, I won’t say much about the movie. I liked it, but probably not as much as the series. But Cillian Murphy as Tommy Shelby—well, I could watch him all day. Tommy Shelby is not a good man, but he’s such a compelling one, especially made so by Murphy. Some of the characters from the series were there, and some were not. As usual, the cinematography was great and so was the music.

Meanwhile, this senseless, unnecessary war drags on. There was NO REASON for this war, and dumpty has no clue. As well as oil, fertilizer production has also been slowed or stopped by the war, so global food supplies may be affected. The felon is still demanding that the draconian SAVE Act be passed, in another attempt to disenfranchise voters. And yes, we are still waiting for the Epstein files and numerous Epstein revelations.

(Here is today’s letter from Heather Cox Richardson. She is going to be talking with Timothy Snyder on Wednesday. Check her YouTube page, where you can find all of her talks.)

Keep writing and calling your Congress people. Call out the lies. Tell your friends what is going on.

No Kings, Saturday, March 28, 2026—that’s this week! Find a No Kings event near you here!

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Time and Rivers

Posted on March 9, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings:

Time and Rivers

When dreams die,
no longer dazzling or
delicious, decayed,

dashed on rocks,
deaccessioned
from the mind,

yet held
in a file, marked “Someday,”

I think how we exist,
sometimes awakening
the universe–

our own individual universes–
with if and after
love, illness, war,

a migration of thoughts, like birds in spring,

spring will come,
the ghostly onion sun
will become a peach,

flowers will raise their faces
to it and smile, open their mouths
to sing

with the robins
already forming their pre-dawn choir,

and the goose and gander will gather –
soon there will be goslings,

while the river and time run,
always forwards, never back,
never stopping as they sweep
us along,

the way dreams do.

Hello again. We switched to Daylight Saving Time yesterday. I hate these time changes. There is no reason for us to switch back and forth. Fortunately, I don’t have to follow a schedule, except my own internal one, so right now, I went to bed a little later and slept a little later (as did the cats). But what an unnecessary annoyance for those who must get to work or school!

And then there’s the war, that might be called a war or not, depending on who is speaking and when. And the spineless Republicans who can’t say no to the decaying and diminished man in the White House who wore one of his baseball caps (on sale at his online store!) to the dignified transfer of the remains of six soldiers killed in his unnecessary and probably illegal war. I wonder if people who voted because they didn’t like the price of eggs are having any regrets now. What will they say when we face all sorts of shortages and sky-rocketing prices for oil, gas, and electricity, as well as a faltering economy? How can anyone still support the so obviously deranged man? Obviously none of them care about the girls killed in the school in Iran. Are we going to attack Cuba next? What is going to happen here? He is so desperate to cover up the Epstein files and to stay in power that he will allow anything to happen. He, his family, and his cronies here and abroad just keep getting richer. But at least Noem is out. And yesterday when we were out at our local weekly protest, which formed as an anti-ICE and pro-immigrant rally and includes giving items for local food pantries, it seems to me that there was mostly and more positive support. There were a couple of men who yelled “F—k you” at us in VERY angry voices (so angry because people care about others?), and a few people gave us the finger, but there were lots of loud honks and voices of support. Standing on that corner in springlike weather was much more pleasant than shivering there a few weeks ago.

Last week after my sister’s funeral—was that only a week ago?—the weather was rainy most of the week. It was grey and dreary. If it wasn’t raining, it looked like it was about to. I didn’t do many walks outside. I did get out to breakfast one day with my friends, which was delightful. (Thank you, Pat and Irene!) We’re going to have a few unseasonably warm days before it gets colder again. We actually had a beautiful sunset last night instead of grey, and we now have lots of crocuses in bloom, and green shoots starting to poke up from the ground. Yes, I’m looking for any beauty and joy now.

Open Windows:

On Saturday, we streamed the movie, The Secret Agent. We had seen previews for it months ago, and I had wanted to see it in the theater, but we kept missing it. I was very confused at the beginning of the movie, but I liked how the pieces of the story were revealed and fit together. It’s set in 1970s Brazil during Carnival season, and it concerns a research professor who is trying to escape the hit men who are after him. This is the time of the military dictatorship. The man finds refuge in an apartment house with others who are trying to escape. The movie has surreal and amusing scenes, as well as thriller moments and gun fights. I’d like to watch it again sometime. Here’s a review from NPR.

Yesterday, I participated in Paul Short’s The Book Bag Open Mic. It was an intimate group with outstanding poetry, and Paul is such a great host. You can follow him on socials @paulwritespoems to find out about the next one. He also hosts a writing group, which will meet again on Zoom at the end of the month.

We started Season 6, the final season of Peaky Blinders. So, we’ll be ready for the movie. 😊

Current reading. I should finish this book today, Skylark by Paula McLain. I needed a Merril book, and this one, from my local library fit the bill—multiple timelines, characters I care about, and beautiful writing. There are recurring motifs/metaphors of life underground and above ground in Paris—and birds and rivers!

The next No Kings protest is scheduled for Saturday, March 28. There are three large protests planned in my area that I know about: Camden, Glassboro, and Philadelphia. Find one in your area here.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Hold Fast

Posted on February 16, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

Hold Fast

“I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars”
–Walt Whitman, “Song of Myself,” Leaves of Grass

“Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.”
–Langston Hughes, “Dreams”

In the darkest hours of the heart,
we dare to dream,
to believe

in the power of together,
to lift every voice,
to hold these truths as self-evident
to join

hand-fasted to earth and sea,
to feel it move–

words with action–
to remember friends,
to protect strangers,

to never forget
nor erase
the traces of what was—
truth inscribed—

stardust and dark energy
the invisible fluttering

of the heart, and in its hours,
we span

the shadows
in love’s penumbra,

yet feel the shimmer
searching, promising

light from our own star,
blooming saffron gold
enough to melt frozen hearts,
snow, ice

to heal with laughter, joy,
the miracle of nature’s green,
the death of grapes, the life of wine,

the sound of spirits in the sky,
cycling round,
the coming of spring.

Hello again. There’s still snow on the ground, but it it’s getting warmer, and the days are finally starting to grow longer. I had such a difficult time getting started with this one. I consulted the Oracle, then Walt Whitman, and Langston Hughes to finish. Today is Presidents’ Day. It’s officially George Washington’s birthday celebration, even though he was born on February 22, 1732—that’s “New Style” after Great Britain adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1752. His birthdate, Old Style (Julian) was February 11, 1731. Presidents’ Day is the third Monday of February to give federal workers and others a three-day holiday. This year Valentine’s Day was on Saturday. My daughter went to a friend’s wedding this weekend, and I’m sure there were many over the weekend.

One thing, most Americans will not be doing is celebrating the current president of the United States. Surveys, including Republican scholars, consistently rank the rapist felon as the worst president the US has even had. Let us hope in the future, no one else comes close. Certainly, the Founding Fathers did not envision anyone so corrupt. In that time, honor and shame meant something, which is not to say that any of these men were perfect. The current regime has removed all mention of the enslaved people from the President’s House in Philadelphia. Washington was well-respected as the commander-in-chief and our first president. He spoke out on such things as freedom of religion; however, he was a slaveholder (many of the enslaved people on his plantation belonged to his wife, Martha, who was a wealthy widow when he married her). His will directed that his slaves be freed, but only after Martha died, but he did not have control over her slaves. To be fair, it was complicated situation, as the two sets of enslaved people had formed connections of love and friendship, and had had children. When he was in Philadelphia, Washington rotated the enslaved workers so that they could not gain freedom under Pennsylvania’s gradual abolition rule. Oney Judge, Martha’s lady’s maid, escaped in Philadelphia in 1796. She was not recaptured. Hercules, a skilled chef, who had also been in Philadelphia, escaped from Mt. Vernon in Virginia in 1797.

Sigh. Life and history are complicated.

Yet certainly we all know that some things are right and some things are wrong. Recently, federal immigration officers terrorized 4th and 5th graders in a housing development in Lindenwold, a nearby New Jersey town. Children! The bus driver drove around and managed to pick-up some of them and get them safely to school. There was a large protest in Lindenwold, NJ that has made the national news. I didn’t know about it in time to make it, but our congressman was there. We know that there are children in this regime’s concentration camps. In case you need me to spell it out, both concentration camps and traumatizing children are wrong.

The next No Kings march is March 28th.

Earlier this week, I listened to Joyce Vance in conversation with Pramila Jayapal discussing Pam Bondi’s hearing before the House. I was outraged. Bondi wouldn’t even acknowledge the survivors, and she’s apparently (and illegally) seized the search histories of congresspeople, including Jayapal, who were searching in the Epstein files. Files, which they should have been allowed to have access to without all the restrictions. The complete files have still not been released. This, too, is against the law, though Bondi appears to not understand the law or legal system at all, and insulted Jamie Raskin, an esteemed Constitutional scholar.

But there were also good things this past week and coming up. Continuing February birthday month, our older child celebrated their birthday this past week. We were able to Facetime with them and our granddaughter (whose FIRST birthday is later this month). My mother-in-law’s birthday is today. We’re going to take her out to lunch one day this week. My husband’s birthday is also this week.

On Wednesday, I attended Black Bough Poetry’s Open Mic. It was a small group, which I like, as we get to take our time and chat.

Our Thursday, I attended Paul Short’s Write Here, Right Now writing session. Unfortunately, I had to leave early to get to our daughter’s book club meeting at Blue Cork Winery. Everyone enjoyed the book, which honestly, I would never have read if it wasn’t for the book club. I wouldn’t consider Twice a great book, but it’s super-fast reading, and it’s sort of a balm of a book in these trying times. It also has a Philadelphia connection, which was fun for me.

For Valentine’s Day, we celebrated with wine and cheese from Tria. We have done this for several years. There’s an online discussion of the wine and cheese with Tria’s wine expert and “Madame Fromage,” a cheese expert (of course), who was there from France, where it was 2 AM, I think. There was a French theme with the wine and cheese, except for the chocolate stout at the end. The cheese especially was Soooooo delicious! The pairings though were perfect! Everything—the baguette, the chocolates, etc. were great. We had more of the wine and cheese last night with some soup. Getting to Tria by car to pick up the packages was not so much fun. Traffic in that part of Philadelphia was insane. I imagine the combination of Valentine’s Day, holiday weekend, and spring-like weather, sent everyone outside! But my husband said it was worth it. Our kitty boys, not used to us sitting in the dining room at this time of night, were running around in the background and watching us.

On Sunday, we saw a play (did our usual train trip) to see Blues for an Alabama Sky. It was an excellent play with great acting and well-done set and costuming. It’s about a group of friends in Harlem in the 1930s. Angel lives with her gay friend Guy, who is a costumer trying to make gowns for Josephine Baker, his idol. Delia is a social worker trying to set up a family planning clinic. Sam is an obstetrician in a local Harlem hospital. Leland is a stranger from Alabama who is smitten with Angel, and whose beliefs affect and change the course of their lives.

Be well and stay safe, All.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

First Monday in February

Posted on February 2, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

First Monday in February

“February. Get ink and weep,
then of that sobbing February write.”
–Boris Pasternak, “February”

February, the snow moon glides
across the sky,
a gleam of light gilds
snow and ice
kintsugi on a porcelain plate

but is there enough beauty
to heal this fractured world?

Too many dead,
one bunny-hatted boy released.

How can one winter last a year?
We yearn for spring.

Groundhogs burrow, hide
from the dogs.

We light candles, light candles,
light candles,

create a thousand points of light,

yet through the susurration, wind and trees,
we hear the Snow Moon’s fierce humming,
then her sigh.

Hello again! How is every week a year? (See, Fulton County, arrests of [Black] journalists, continuing ICE action, and more measles epidemics just to start.) Will we ever see all the Epstein files released. We know the current resident of the White House is involved. One piece of good news was Liam Ramos, the little boy with the blue bunny hat and his father were released from their illegal detention.

It’s been very cold here,

and the snow that fell last weekend has not melted. I’m missing my walks, and I have had to rely on “indoor walkies”—where I jog in our kitchen while watching or listening to something, as well as strength training, which I do most days, not that you care, 😉 Our street is still not in great shape, and the battlefield park has been closed all week. I suppose the sidewalks there must be very icy. Tomorrow the temperature may finally go above freezing!

The cold weather has been good for staying in and reading. These are some of the books I’ve read recently. Now I’m rereading Something Wicked This Way Comes for a book club. I didn’t remember the book, which I remember I read when I was in my teens, except that there’s a carnival involved. I’m only about a quarter of the way in, and while I admire Bradbury’s dark, poetic prose–and Shakespearean title–it’s a very unsettling book.

We finished All Creatures Great and Small. I might have cried during the last episode of the season. I had suggested going out to a movie on Saturday, but it seemed like too much effort. Instead, we streamed Sentimental Value. I enjoyed it very much. It’s another Merril movie, more talk than action. We had also both really liked, The Worst Person in the World, by the same director, Joachim Trier and also starring Renate Reinsve. Sentimental Value also stars Stellan Skarsgård and Elle Fanning.

And something that cheered us up yesterday–FaceTiming and seeing our almost one-year-old granddaughter eating spaghetti! 😂

So, the cold has not helped moods or getting out. But aren’t the people of Minneapolis wonderful? They don’t let the cold stop them! We did our own small part yesterday at the local weekly protest, “Solidarity Sundays,” in support of immigrants. Lots of honks in support; a few ignorant comments. One guy called us a bunch of “faggots”—there’s a man who needs therapy. I don’t think my husband did well with standing out in the cold. He’s still sniffling and blowing his nose.

I also did a “social banking” night with Red, Wine, and Blue. I go to bed very early, so it was late screen time for me, but what we did was amplify some Instagram posts. They supplied the links. Will it do any good? Who knows? But I’m willing to try. They’re doing another one for Springfield, OH on Feb. 4, and there are also some other virtual meetings.

On the probably upcoming action in Springfield, I suggest this essay by Timothy Snyder, “Ethnic Cleansing in Ohio?” In it, he traces the current VP’s lies and connections to Nazi groups and ideology. Professor Synder is an expert of fascism and authoritarian regimes, and he grew up in the Springfield, OH area.

We are beyond Democrats and Republicans; you are either on the side of people who support rapists, pedophiles, and White supremacy, or you are against it. I think of people in Nazi Germany who thought of themselves as “good people.” They loved their children, took care of their families, and stood silently while their neighbors were taken away and killed. Don’t be one of those people.

The next nation-wide NO KINGS protest is planned for March 28, 2026.

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Shadows of This Earth

Posted on January 19, 2026 by merrildsmith

Monday Morning Musings

Shadows of This Earth

“Then all the nations of birds lifted together
the huge net of the shadows of this earth”
–Derek Walcott, “The Season of Phantasmal Peace”

Shadows stretch,
span the expanse
from trees to shore
bird-drawn, time-pleated,

gathered,
between and biding
the goose guardians
sentinels of this space,
watch and listen

as winter and spring
each make promises
to leave, to return,

soon, my love,
with the light

soft, this picture of peace
soft, the soughing
of wind-harps, the tintinnabulation
of river-bells,

hard the frozen ground,
hard the wintry hearts

that never observe
the bird-drawn shadows,
nor the light that brings them,

oblivious to every silvered sliver
and every feathered dream.

“The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” — George Orwell, 1984.

“But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.”
–Martin Luther King, Jr., Final Speech, “I’ve Been to the Mountain Top”

Hello, again. It’s very cold this morning here in southern NJ. We had snow and sleet off and on all weekend. There’s a solid coating now–not a lot, an inch or two, but it’s frozen solid. It is exhausting to be an American now, isn’t it? Minneapolis, Greenland, the non-investigation of Renee Good’s murder, the arson attack on a synagogue in Mississippi—that’s a few things that happened in one week. Today marks the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday. There will be many Day of Service activities throughout the nation, though I’m certain none by members of the current regime, where service means service to self. Last year, I used the same MLK quote in my musings, but it was also the inauguration of the current resident of the White House (will he rename that, too?). Many of us—but not enough—feared the worst then. We warned others about Project 2025 and the mental deterioration of the felon. But too many—though not a mandate—believed his lies and/or could not vote for a Black woman, so here we are. And we have to protest and resist, not give up.

This regime is investigating everyone except the ICE agent who murdered Renee Good. We’ve all seen the videos. Every day, this regime is defying reality and attempting to erase history.

A reminder, too, that this regime is breaking the law in another way by not releasing the entirety of the Epstein Files.

We missed the local anti-Ice protest yesterday. It was snowing—and we just needed a break. It’s been that kind of week. We didn’t go anywhere or do anything special. We’re watching cozy British shows—Miss Scarlet, All Creatures Great and Small, and a new one, Bookish. On a snowy afternoon, I finished Fredrik Backman’s My Friends. My reading companion was at my side. Backman is a popular author, and it’s a popular book. Several friends commented about it on the photo on my FB page that they had or wanted to read it. I imagine the narrator of Backman’s books as someone like Mr. Rogers—not his voice, but the comforting feeling of it sharing that there are many sad things in this world, but there is also beauty and good people. I liked the discussions of art and poetry in this book, but mainly, it was the story of friendship and finding people who love you. There is a book club meeting to discuss My Friends later in the spring, so if I attend it, I’ll maybe write more about the book then. I read it now because I saw it at the library. (Yay for libraries!)

Pace yourself, take care of yourself and loved ones, but try to do what you can to educate and resist.

Release the Epstein Files now! (There must be something really horrible or explosive in them.)

Look for the helpers and be one if you can.

Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

Tag Archives: Books

Hole/Whole

Monday Morning Musings

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NaPoWriMo 2026-Day2

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Hold Fast

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First Monday in February

Monday Morning Musings

Shadows of This Earth

Monday Morning Musings