May Day May Day!

No, it’s not a sign of panic (though that does reign, from time to time, in our humble abode), but a sign of solidarity with working people all over the world. And so I find myself compelled to post this topical little dittie, and postpone (or would it be “post-post”?) the previously promised dittie composed to fit Chumpy’s title, “Waving not drowning.” So up to my eyeballs am I generally that I didn’t realize last week that today would be none other than May Day.

Like many of my countryfolk, I lament the hi-jacking of this day of solidarity with our fellows world-wide. (Here’s an account of the origins of the day by the Wobblies; or the Wikis if you prefer to compare/contrast. For neopagan-curious sisters and brothers, I offer up this Wiki page on Beltane, whose extremely low profile I also lament, while I’m at it.)

In a modest gesture of atonement, I want to acknowledge all those whose labor supports my partner and me as parents (what with this blog’s focus on matters parental; lord knows if I acknowledged all those whose labor supported our cushy existence, I’d have to make an interminable series of it). But I often find myself whining, kvetching, or otherwise wringing my hands over this or that childcare inconvenience, possibly leaving the impression that I stagger through my days, from sun up to sun down and beyond, the solitary provider of all my kids’ material and emotional needs. Not so, not so. It’s merely that I’m complaining in spite of the abundance of support I recieve.

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