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cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
@cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
260 followers 240 following 120 posts
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cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
My sweet old friend left us earlier this month. She was around 15. My 9 years with her were the very best gift. Here she is in her favorite spot.
My German Shepherd lying under my desk, head resting on a window sill, ears up looking out at the yard.
December 18, 2025 at 10:00 PM
cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
Shocking Things Liberals Believe: People working 40 hrs/wk should not live in poverty. CEOs shouldn't receive 3K times the pay of their workers. Wall Street gangsters should go to prison when they steal. No child should ever have to worry about being shot at school. There should not be subsidies for profitable corporations. Politicians should not dictate medical decisions for women. Everyone should have access to higher education. Healthcare should be given to all, not be a luxury for the rich. Companies should not be permitted to trash the earth for profit. Lobbyists should not be allowed to bribe our representatives. Equal rights and equal pay should be the benchmark for all Americans. No one, especially veterans, should be homeless.
October 23, 2025 at 4:22 PM
cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
My number one gal saying, "This had better be a crown on my head because I am a queen."
German Shepherd dog (black body, tan face and legs) lying on a rug wearing a bunny ears headpiece. She is giving the photographer a skeptical look.
May 10, 2025 at 4:10 PM
cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
Augusta, ME
protestors at Maine State House
April 5, 2025 at 11:15 PM
cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
Augusta, Maine
protestors at Augusta, Maine state house.
April 5, 2025 at 7:28 PM
cwisemanmurray.bsky.social
Reposting from FB @rebeccasolnit.bsky.social 's post of @clevejones.bsky.social
This is the moment!
Cleve Jones The shift is there. Deep, tectonic, massive. It is everywhere around us and in the air and under the waving gras and flowering trees, it grinds beneath the oceans and granite and sand. You can hear it: murmur this morning, insistently loud by midday, a high-pitched keening wail at dusk and now, as night falls, a steady thunderous roar. In cities, on farms, in mountain villages, in the cut-de-sacs of the suburbs, in old factory towns of the rust belt and hip urban precincts of the coasts, across the land the great shift reveals. This is the moment when history meets flesh, when hands find hand, when the future quivers before us like a delicate iridescent bird hovered above a blossom. In our way lies a filthy carcass, its putrid flesh covered by a swarm of blue-black flies. It blocks the avenue with its stink and blue and dreadful rotting weight. Tonight, we sleep. Tomorrow we will break bread with the ones we love and tend to the cats and dogs and gardens, then ready ourselves for the task ahead. This is the moment. Hands Find hands. Birds find blossoms. Look to the sky, look to those who stand at your shoulders. We are the storm, the earthquake, the flood, and the hurricane. We are the scouring wind and cleansing water. This is the moment.
April 4, 2025 at 11:30 AM