Our lives are just a Blip on Earth

The Pacific Ocean Is beautiful today, blue that goes on forever in the distance. I’m at Point Reyes Sea Shore. A bubble flies by me from Fiona’s bubble gun. My dogs panting and trying to get on my picnic blanket. I think the sand must be hot today. Alan, Jack, and Fiona are sitting in a roofless hut constructed of driftwood. Billy, my dog keeps whining, I try to ignore her and listen to the waves crash. It’s a breezy, warm, day at the beach. The sun warms my blue jeans as I gaze, relaxed at the horizon line. Nothing else matters at that moment. I am thankful for my short blip on Earth. My time to be alive. I notice Billy’s cyst is getting larger, I notice how she has slowed down, she’s getting old. I mention to Jack and Fiona that Billy’s not going to live forever. Later that night, when Jack and I are doing Story time;

“I don’t want Billy to die”. Jack says.

“I know, neither do I but everyone and everything dies.” I say.

I look at his legs, little, chubby, three-year old legs. Even him, I realize, even my young children are just a blip in the history of Earth. We all just come and go and really our time is microscopic here.

As I was sitting outside today, listening to the birds chirping, trying to ignore the weed blower, that seemed to go on forever. Which I thought, in a way, weed blowers do go on forever. When we have such a short time here the amount of time spent listening to weed blowers is too much. But they clean the ground, sparkle clean. And we enjoy that, right?

Yesterday I was at Mc. Nears beach park with Jack and Fiona. The grass was bright green with tiny daisy flowers scattered like baby blankets. There were geese with babies, and along with that comes geese poop.

Jack, Fiona, and I have a spot under a tree. I am reading a story to my kids and the park ranger pulls up on his motorized buggy.

“Sorry for the noise” The Park ranger said to me.

“It’s totally fine” I said.

“This park’s really clean” I said. “I was at Stafford Lake the other day and there was so much Goose poop.”

“Yeah, there’s been a population explosion this year” He said. “It’s a full-time job keeping it clean”

“Does the weed blower clean goose poop?” I asked.

“Yeah, you just angle it the right way and it blasts it off into the grass” He said.

I love weed blowers for that capability, that’s for sure.

The kids and I had a great day. I planned and achieved to give them my full attention. Jack rode his bike and Fiona rode her scooter. I took some pictures and a video but wasn’t preoccupied with my phone or another person. It was just the three of us. It was very relaxing, we all enjoyed it.

I got so mad the other night when I heard the news, these latest findings about Trumps lawyer, his company that he started, right before the election. The companies that paid Cohen hoping they could  get access to the government.


I was so sickened I wanted to shut down my Facebook account because I know now I’m going to waste too much time there, sharing political articles. I am so disturbed, and it disturbs me more when other people don’t seem to notice the seriousness of what’s going on.  When I feel like this I start sharing things about Volcano’s and tectonic plates and saving our libraries.

When I heard Putin said:     

“the nation that leads in AI, will be the ruler of the world


I got freaked out. I watch a lot of sci-fi and zombie shows, maybe my mind is warped. But AI scares the crap out of me and the thugs in power are so corrupt I can’t imagine what kind of AI they would want to create. Pure death machines.

I read about the loss of Net Neutrality today. That made me want to cancel my Facebook account. It’s just going to be advertisements and propaganda. Most the people on there won’t even be real anymore.


The good news is I cleaned my studio and am working. I am an artist. I fear our future, I am scared of our leaders, I am scared of wars and exploding volcanos. But I have a space to be creative, I have a voice. I have beer, and tomorrows Friday, I have a babysitter for the day and a clean studio to work in.

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About Dirty Laundry Blog

Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist