I’ve been listening to protest songs and all the peacenik, commune-loving hippie music I can get my hands on (it all started two days ago with the ‘anarchist’ bookstore purchases (“Turning the Tide” bookstore in Saskatoon has all kinds of interesting things), and then yesterday with the celebration of Pete Seeger’s music, which pretty much had me slamming my hands against the steering wheel on the way home, cross with myself for having allowed my disgust for armed conflict to weaken over the past ten years.
Yes, it’s true…I *am* the filthy hippie – that’s what my friend Jenn’s husband Ian calls me. I’m not sure if he thinks of it as a derogatory nickname or not, but it really isn’t. I’m going to go make some granola, turn up the Peter, Paul, and Mary, and I’m going to wander around the house today wearing as little as possible. I’m’a do my best to commune with the earth and think derisive thoughts about governments’ military policies.
I’m going to go and think and dream about how I can make the world a Better Place (I know, and you can just save the comments about how not being a tree-hugging communist will be a good start). Right now, The Nipper and I are sharing a pot of Vanilla Tulsi tea while I attempt to get rid of the sick that Saskatoon gave me.