Would you say that I'm saying this literally or figuratively?
FYI: I did not, am not, nor will I spit about what got me furious. Spitting I reserve for when I am sick (better out than in, right?) or for root hormone (some gardeners say that spit makes a good substitute). The Mama pretended to spit whenever she broke glass, followed by a plea to Mary, Jesus, and Joseph that they don't hold the broken glass as a point against her.
Too much TMI? Sorry.
I continue. The cause for my growling spew?
Let's simply say that my tolerability cap for political beliefs got blown off for a moment. I allowed myself to care that I was disappointed about humanity and so became bummed. As you can see, not anymore.
The Husband and I took a drive to Freedom to purchase food for our precious, and spoiled, Molly the Cat. The 60-mile round trip drive, more or less, had us rolling by green hills and zigzagging through a canyon and among farm fields, …