Fan Friday—Planned Parenthood


Good grief. Are women so damn delicate that they are in need of “women’s healthcare” on a constant basis? For myself, I go once a year for the top and once a year for the bottom, to put it in simple terms.

Back in the days of children, of course I’d go for prenatal care, and yes, I’ve had a scare or three when I needed biopsies and a couple additional visits.

Fortunately, nothing came of those biopsies and yes, I always had a car to go where I needed—which was usually no further than 45 minutes away.

But.

Supporters of Planned Parenthood seem to imply that, if there were no PP clinics, ALL WOMEN must walk for days to find a doctor or clinic, and even then they couldn’t afford a visit, and they MUST DO THIS EVERY SINGLE MONTH.

I will not believe that a woman cannot find one single person who could take her to a doctor in her own town or within an hour’s drive.

I certainly will not believe that, in these days of mandated health insurance, that a woman can’t afford to see a doctor—particularly when there is no charge for a Pap smear and annual checkup, including a mammogram. Even so, I’ve been there—with no insurance; you make payments, you get a cash discount, you do what you have to in order to take care of yourself.

Birth control costs money, yes. But in spite of popular belief, having sex isn’t a human right. It’s like going out to a club: if you can afford to, great, have fun. If you can’t, you stay home.

On the other hand, most insurance now covers birth control.

So what’s the argument? Why do we “need” Planned Parenthood?

We do not.

We especially do not need something that was begun with the idea of limiting the births of black babies; we do not need something that takes federal funding to operate, yet goes against the faith and morals of at least half the population.

We do not need to harvest “parts” of humans.

I can imagine the outcry if, let’s say, we had an entity called Planned Puppyhood. They would offer services like distemper and rabies shots at reduced cost, but they’d also euthanize puppies by pulling them apart and selling those parts.

The VERY SAME folks who deem Planned Parenthood a godsend would rise up and burn down those Puppyhood clinics, immediately after rescuing all the puppies.

They’d say the government shouldn’t finance the killing of puppies.

But right now they say, oh, humans. Meh.

You know why, right? Because they don’t believe a fetus is a baby. They consider them unwanted clumps of cells. Inconveniences.

Such utter bullshit.

Besides, they contend that those who oppose abortion only want to preserve the lives of the unborn and don’t care about children in need.

Of course we care about those children after birth—but we also believe that their parents should bear the burden of their needs as well. Not “only,” but “also.” There are umpteen social programs for folks who need help—but they weren’t intended to be a lifestyle, just assistance.

I’ve used that assistance, a couple of times, for six months or so at a stretch. It was assistance, not continuous, not forever, not generational.

Oh, I know some of you will disagree with me. That’s okay. I probably can’t change your mind, but I sure wish I could convince you to think about that Planned Puppyhood and how you’d feel about it.

 

 

Work Wednesday—Almost There


This past Weekend o’ Work is brought to you by New Toys . . .

We started off on Friday with the unloading of the fireplace. There were at least eight boxes inside a larger box, also filled with Styrofoam.

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While my husband worked on this, with my minimal assistance, I volunteered to change out the doorknobs and deadbolts on two doors. Well. It started off just fine, but quickly deteriorated. And by “deteriorated,” I mean that he had to do a little, um, readjustment.

Not much. Really.

But they look great now!

And then the truck arrived:

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I didn’t get too many pictures after that, because we pulled out and dumped about five Mule-loads of junk and trash while the guys were brush-hogging and tree-trimming—you know, how guys do it, with one on the tractor and one in the bucket. Sheesh.

Also, the two ceiling fans were installed. Again, no pictures of them. Yet.

We managed to get in two campfires and some short hikes . . .

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My husband elected to stay down there for a few extra days, so by the next installment here you should get the full effect of the sanding-skimming-painting episodes . . .

Then, it’s on to the kitchen destruction. Oy.

Oh, wait! There’s more!

We took a quick trip into town and saw:

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Yep. Standing on a flatbed truck, singing. No lie. And on the way home, there were two clowns behind us at the stoplight.

Yep. Rodeo clowns. In facepaint. What a strange day…