Who's an Orange Poo Bum?

 

There certainly is plenty said online about Donald Trump's incontinence. There are references to his diapers, there are videos of people near gagging on what we can only assume is the smell of the guy. There are many jokes and memes. The topic has a life all of it's own.

Now, Trump appalls me. His behaviour disgusts me. His hatefulness depresses me. His destruction of so much that was good horrifies me.

In many ways I am happy to see him mocked. I think he deserves plenty of scrutiny and he has put himself well in the line of fire for all the mockery he attracts.

Having said all of that, I am really not sure what I think of the whole incontinence issue being so publicly joked about.

If I was doubly incontinent (or for that matter just incontinent of urine) I would be embarassed, ashamed, sad and frustrated.

If the whole world knew about it, it would be worse. If the whole world mocked me for it, I would wish to die.

I think of the aged care residents I know, the majority of them are incontinent but they are still people who have innate dignity and deserve to be treated as valuable.

Trump is a monster but I am not sure I can support the mockery he receives around this issue. It makes me uncomfortable because I think there's a very thin distinction between laughing at a disgraceful politician because of his uncontrolled bowel and laughing at the old bloke in the care home who never hurt a fly but can't recognise his need to go to the toilet. 

I'm also not sure it is the right thing to pick on.

A failing body seems to be the easiest,  laziest thing to laugh at. His moral and ethical failures are so much more significant. Truth be told they are probably even more frequent than the full diapers.

What do you think, dear reader? Does he deserve whatever insults come his way?

Mother

 Tonight I wanted to write a post but couldn't think of a topic. 

And then I happened to come across this art work

I have never seen it before but it recalls my days as a young mother, perched on the edge of a bed or a couch or a kichen stool, feeding a child or two.

The fingers spreading out and pulling on the skin is a detail I had forgotten but I know my hands remember.

I love the light. I love the crib on the floor by the bed, I often used car capsules the same way.

I love the linens on the bed and I know the comfort of those sheets.

I loved to wear a rustling skirt like the one worn by this mother.

I love the water jar by the bed and remember how there has never been a thirst like that of breastfeeding.

I love the hint of lace on the baby's blanket

and the exquisite beauty of the newborn's head.

I think I want to buy a print. A large one.

Mother. Elin Danielson-Gambogi

Breakfasts

 Earlier this year I started to eat the same breakfast every day. Greek yogurt with berry and chia compote. It's easy to organise, high protein, high fibre and I like it. This was a deliberate strategy to get the day started with a good choice and it was going really well. 

Then winter came and I really want to have a hot breakfast but it's not possible to pull a hot breaky out of the fridge in the morning.

Instead I have been eating:

leftover daal   6/10

porridge  with berry compote     4/10

porridge with peanut butter and brown sugar     7/10

barley cooked in pear juice and cardamom pods  topped with a small dot large spoon of cream    9/10

cheese on toast      8/10

Some of these do better at hitting the nutrritional goals than others and none are as good as the yogurt and compote. I am doing badly at fibre and protein but well at whole foods. i will keep trying and it will soon be warmer weather and I will go back to yogurt with fruit.

I really encourage you to try barley cooked in juice. It's quite delicious.