A week of three kids on break, a dear friend’s wedding in New York, ended with… bowling.
Yes, it did.
We bowled as part of the National Network of Abortion Funds’ bowlathon for abortion access. Without access, abortion is only technically legal, as in on the books legal, as in not really helpful if you need actual health care. While I did not win my round, my team—No Wire Hangers—won as top fundraisers.
That’s link number one to share this Tuesday morning.
Link two is an article that puts perspective upon our fear of terrorist attack—and plane crashes versus the much larger killers of guns and cars. I could say something more. There’s not that much more to say. We put our fear in all the wrong places in this country.
Link three is the obituary for E.L. Konigsburg. If you ever dreamt of your overnight at the Met, it’s thanks to her.
Three things that have me grateful this steely grey morning are the leaves, which are leafing by the day. I am bowled (get it, you can still give!) over by spring every year. The longer live in New England, the more intense spring becomes. I forget you don’t get insta-green, that instead the ramp up includes swaggers from forsythia while trees are still bare. Except, daily, the leaves charge in. Fiddleheads roll up all curled up and then… unfurl like Mr. Bean in some sketch about careful eating habits. You get the idea. It’s really a show, this spring phenomenon.
Baby Walter and his mama, Anne Marie cheered our team on
Of bowling, I am grateful for the community that supports reproductive justice. The babies and kids in spirit, the college students though, well, hooray and then the moms, the women, the men, the grandmothers… Equality is justice is freedom.
I’m also grateful to be reminded that bowling is a lot of fun. We should just bowl more often—for no other reason.