This was totally predictable.

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(The one exception is the bit about the library card. I have a hard time with library books, because I have to give them back. I’d rather own a book I only like a little bit, than to return it.)

Friday night was the annual barn party and BBQ put on by the Silver Eagles, the empty-nester set at our church. One couple hosts it in their barn (where they also store the church’s outdoor Christmas decorations) and stacks up bales of hay in the back for bleachers. Then tables are set up for supper (because no one likes hay in their baked beans) and the field opened for parking.

All ages are welcome, it’s pot luck, and my dad’s bluegrass group New Creation always play and lead the singing of some old timey worship hymns. (That’s him, singing in the grey fedora.) This was the second year we went, and it was a real hoot.

Each family must have brought enough to serve ten people, because I totally loaded up my plate, forgetting that there was also a whole separate dessert table. I shouldn’t have worried – the Princess and the Bear had me covered.

We sang, swatted skeeters, mooed at the cows in the neighboring field, and ate way too many sweets. This is the kind of thing I want to upload into my kids’ memories – playing under the chairs of silver haired ladies, throwing hay onto their grandparents, the adults swaying and crooning to the old songs and loving the Lord and each other. And a sleepy ride home, covered in frosting, itchy bites, and hay dust. My daughter’s prayer that night: “Dear God, thank you wonderful barn parties. And for soft, warm beds to lie in afterwards.”

that things are just plain wacky out here.

Why have a real discussion, when you can just tick people off?

I’ve long wondered how many pro-choice politicians and activists really, honestly care one whit for the well-being of women in connection to abortion. If they are going to be as honest as possible, why not have a “Who Needs Breasts?!” party? Or a “Prozac is Delicious!” festival? How about a bold “I (heart) Sepsis” bumpersticker?

Because this isn’t about honesty, that’s why. It’s not about some schmuck in D.C. getting weepy because they care about the health of my uterus. It’s about power, and your side winning, and the right to throw a ripping party and act like no one can tell you no. At it’s very core is a rejection of rules. Sounds like something any toddler could get excited about.

And yet…this is an adult event. Ain’t it good to be a grown up?

For those reading this who do not live in Washington, I just want you to know that this is not unusual for here. Government – even itty bitty government – is unfamiliar with individual rights. Like color television to a grasshopper, it’s a totally foreign concept.

Not to worry – it’s not my poetry…

To commemorate the 150th anniversary of the publication of “Leaves of Grass,” The Teaching Company has a free lecture on Walt Whitman to stream or download. Enjoy!