Kathy Wingard 🇺🇦 ☮️

THE WORLD CAN BE CRUEL. by Michael Whelan Michael sat alone on the patio beneath the dim yellow porch light, his phone trembling in his hand. Tears rolled down his face as the Florida night wrapped around him. Another heartbreaking call. Another caregiver at the end of their rope. Another exhausted soul whispering, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Then came the soft patter of tiny paws. Peanut bounded through the sliding glass door, leapt onto Michael’s shoulder, and immediately froze. “Daddy?” he whispered. “Why are your eyes raining again?” Michael tried to answer, but emotion crushed the words before they could escape. “I’m just tired, little man.” Peanut tilted his head. “No. This is the deep sad.” Bella, Bambi, Winston, and Penny slowly gathered around Michael like tiny guardians surrounding someone wounded. Peanut gently touched Michael’s cheek. “Tell me.” Michael stared into the darkness. “You know that thing called Twitter?” Peanut blinked. “The place where humans yell at each other all day?” Even through tears, Michael laughed softly. “Pretty much.” “Why do you go there then?” “Because buried inside all that noise are hurting people,” Michael whispered. “Caregivers. Cancer patients. People who just lost the love of their life like your mommy. There are a lot of Rebeccas out there, Peanut… and families trying desperately to save them.” Peanut listened carefully. “I’ve written almost four million words trying to help people. Most writers charge subscriptions or put their work behind paywalls. I never charged a penny. I just wrote.” Bella rested her head on Michael’s knee. “And most people who follow me are beautiful human beings,” Michael continued. “They carried me through cancer… through Rebecca’s illness… through losing her. Some nights their kindness is the only thing keeping me going.” His voice cracked. “But sometimes with the good comes the cruel.” “How do they find you?” Peanut asked. Michael shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.” “You help people every day,” Peanut whispered. “Even when you’re hurting. Why would anyone want to hurt you?” Michael stared silently into the night. Then he shrugged. A tired, broken shrug. “They blamed me when my page got hacked the day after Rebecca died. Eight years… just gone.” Silence settled over the patio. Finally Winston spoke softly from the doorway. “Most humans couldn’t write one honest paragraph about their pain.” Penny nodded. “And you wrote four million words trying to heal theirs.” Michael’s tears fell harder. “I just wanted people to feel less alone.” Peanut wrapped himself around Michael’s neck. “You did, daddy,” he whispered. “You still do.” The wind moved softly through the patio screens as Rebecca’s wind chimes sang somewhere inside the house. Peanut pressed his forehead against Michael’s. “You spent your life teaching strangers how to survive pain,” he whispered. “But Rebecca spent her life trying to teach you that your own heart mattered too.” And there on that little patio sat the only souls still refusing to let Michael carry his grief alone.

@RCdeWinter Good 😊 me RC!

A priest went into a barbershop for a haircut and when it was done, he asked the barber how much he owed him. The barber said, “Oh, I never charge the clergy, it’s a mitzvah for your good work.” When the barber arrived at his shop the next morning, he found a dozen small prayer booklets on the stoop along with a thank you note from the priest. A few days later a police officer came in. “How much do I owe you?” the cop asked after his haircut. “No charge, officer,” the barber answered. “I consider it a service to my community.” The next morning the barber found a dozen doughnuts on the stoop along with a thank you note from the police officer. A few days after that, a senator walked in for a haircut. “How much do I owe you?” he asked afterward. “No charge,” the barber replied. “I consider it a service to my country.” The next morning when he arrived at the shop the barber found a dozen Senators waiting on the stoop.

En la antigua Grecia, las mujeres tenían prohibido estudiar medicina, hasta que alguien rompió la ley. Un día Hagnódica se cortó el pelo y entró en la facultad de medicina de Alejandría vestida de hombre. Mientras caminaba por las calles de Atenas tras completar sus estudios de medicina, oyó los gritos de una mujer de parto. Sin embargo, la mujer no quería que Hagnódica la tocara, a pesar del intenso dolor, porque creía que Hagnódica era un hombre. Hagnódica demostró su identidad femenina desnudándose y ayudando a la mujer a dar a luz. La historia pronto se extendió entre las mujeres, y todas las enfermas comenzaron a acudir a Hagnódica. Los médicos varones, envidiosos, acusaron a Hagnódica, a quien creían hombre, de seducir a sus pacientes En su juicio, Hagnódica compareció ante el tribunal y demostró su identidad femenina, pero esta vez fue condenada a muerte por estudiar y ejercer la medicina siendo mujer. Las mujeres se rebelaron contra la sentencia, especialmente las esposas de los jueces que la habían condenado a muerte. Algunos decían que si Hagnódica moría, morirían con ella. Incapaces de soportar la presión de sus esposas y otras mujeres, los jueces anularon la condena de Hagnódica , y a partir de entonces, las mujeres pudieron ejercer la medicina, siempre y cuando solo atendieran a mujeres. Así, Hagnódica dejó su huella en la historia como la primera médica, ginecóloga y especialista en medicina griega. Esta placa que representa a Hagnódica trabajando fue excavada en Ostia, Italia.

Erin Brockovich has launched a website and has begun tracking all data centers in America and logging resident complaints In just 1 week it’s already logged 1,690 resident complaints For this who don’t remember Erin Brockovich was the paralegal responsible for winning out a case against PG&E, Hinckley in California, because their wastewater runoff was seeping into rural areas and creating a lot of health issues for, for the surrounding neighborhoods That case brought in a $333 million settlement that went to the families affected by the situation because a lot of them either had staggering medical bills due to their tap water was no longer safe So why is this important, well residents all over America are reporting their tap water and river water is being heavily polluted by data centers Her map of data centers is new, she just launched it The website features an interactive US map showing operational, under-construction, and proposed AI data centers, overlaid with community-reported complaints Residents can submit reports with details, photos, and locations. Within days of launch, it received a surge of submissions over 1,600 in the first week, and reports of 1,800+ from 47 states shortly after Common Resident Complaints Being Logged - Water usage - Raising utility bills for residents - Noise pollution: Constant 24/7 humming from fans, generators, and cooling systems disrupting sleep, daily life, and wildlife. - E-waste from frequent hardware upgrades, pollution including PFAS concerns

The annual Pentecost tradition (today!) at Rome's Pantheon is a moment of extraordinary beauty. It occurs every year on the seventh Sunday after Easter. At noon, after the Holy Mass, thousands of rose petals are dropped through the oculus of the mighty dome. As the petals fall, a choir sings "Veni Sancte Spiritus," known as the Golden Sequence, a masterpiece of sacred Latin poetry. This is to celebrate the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Virgin Mary and the Apostles. The rose petal ritual likely dates back to 607 AD when the pagan temple became a Christian church.

@Rainmaker1973 We need a national registry. That would prevent offenders from buying pets from other states. It would also ID abusers nationwide.

Florida has enacted one of the strongest animal protection laws in the nation. Convicted animal abusers are now permanently banned from adopting or purchasing any pets in the state. Governor Ron DeSantis signed Dexter’s Law in May 2025, and it took effect on January 1, 2026. The legislation closes a dangerous loophole that previously allowed people convicted of animal cruelty to own pets again after serving their sentences. The law is named after Dexter, a rescue dog who was tragically killed by his adopter — a case that exposed critical weaknesses in the system. To prevent future tragedies, the law also establishes a statewide registry of convicted animal abusers. Shelters, breeders, pet stores, and even members of the public can now check this database before placing an animal with a potential owner. Offenders remain on the registry for up to ten years, giving organizations a powerful new tool to screen adopters and protect vulnerable animals.

@Michaeljos92972 Thank you Michael and friends.

THE BIRDBATHS by Michael Whelan The afternoon sun poured across Peachstone Lane like warm honey, turning the backyard into one of Rebecca’s paintings. The birdbaths sparkled. The little blue birdhouse I had built for her years ago swayed softly beneath the oak tree. Rebecca used to stand at the kitchen window with her coffee and whisper, “Michael… look. The cardinals are back.” Now I sat alone beneath that same tree, an old box of photographs spread across my lap. Except I wasn’t alone for very long. Bella waddled across the grass first, carrying one of Rebecca’s gardening gloves in her mouth like treasure. Bambi followed slowly behind her. Winston and Penny took their positions nearby like tiny furry supervisors. And then came Peanut. Little Peanut bounced through the yard sideways like a fuzzy firecracker before leaping directly into my lap. “What are we looking at?” he asked, his bright Siamese eyes enormous. I smiled faintly. “Pictures.” “Of Rebecca?” I nodded. Peanut studied one carefully. “Wow… she was beautiful.” “She still is,” Bambi whispered softly. Nobody spoke for a moment. The wind moved through the trees. Birds splashed inside Rebecca’s favorite birdbath. Bella finally rested her head against my knee. “She loved this yard.” “She built this yard,” I replied. “Every flower. Every feeder. Every little peaceful corner.” Peanut tilted his head. “Then why does it feel sad now?” The question landed hard. “Because,” I said quietly, “when someone fills a house with that much love… you notice when the music stops.” Penny stretched across the warm bricks. “I still wait for her slippers every morning.” “I still sleep on her side of the bed,” Winston added. Bambi looked toward the birdhouse swinging gently overhead. “Sometimes I still think she’s coming home.” Peanut crawled higher onto my chest until his tiny face was inches from mine. “But she did come home,” he said. The yard went still. “What do you mean, Peanut?” Bella asked. Peanut looked around proudly. “She’s here. Everywhere.” He pointed his tiny nose toward the birdbath. “She’s in the birds.” Toward the flowers. “She’s in the garden.” Toward me. “She’s in Michael.” And then softly: “She’s in us.” My throat tightened instantly. Peanut curled into my neck, purring loud enough to shake his whole little body. “You know what I think?” he whispered. “What’s that, Peanut?” “I think Rebecca sent me here because all of you forgot how to laugh.” And for the first time in weeks… beneath the birdhouse Rebecca loved… surrounded by the family she built with her own beautiful hands… I laughed through my tears while a tiny Siamese kitten held my broken heart together. Peanut suddenly spotted another photograph fluttering in the breeze. “Wait… that’s Rebecca holding Bella like a baby.” Bella’s tail wagged slowly. “She called me her little nurse.” Peanut moved to another picture. “And this one?” “That was the butterfly garden,” Bambi whispered. “Rebecca planted flowers so monarchs would always visit.” Peanut’s eyes widened as butterflies drifted past the birdbath. “They still come.” “Yes,” Winston said softly. “Almost like they’re checking on Michael for her.” Peanut looked at the hundreds of photographs scattered beside me. “You two really loved each other, didn’t you?” I could barely answer. “With everything we had.”

Treasure Island, always on our mind. 😎 MyTreasureIsland.com/Beach

This coffee shop in Kyiv opened yesterday, then got hit by a russian air strike just hours later. Today, they're still open and people in Kyiv are lining up to buy a coffee to support them, stepping over debris and broken glass on the way in. FYI, the coffee is excellent 🇺🇦

On the evening Barack Obama was elected President of the United States, he didn’t rush off to the loud celebrations. Instead, he stayed inside a hotel room in Chicago playing Scrabble with his daughters — Malia Obama and Sasha Obama. A simple moment. But it revealed a great deal about the man who entered history that night. While millions of Americans celebrated his victory, Obama wanted his daughters to remember the evening not as a political spectacle, but as time spent with family. On January 20, 2009, Barack Obama took the oath of office as the 44th President of the United States, placing his hand on the same Bible used by Abraham Lincoln in 1861. For the first time in American history, an African American became president. But Obama’s story was never only about grand speeches and historic ceremonies. During the campaign, he still made time to read Harry Potter to his daughters before bed. As a child growing up between Hawaii and Indonesia, the future president loved comic books and superhero stories. Even his political career began in an unconventional way: in 1996, he won his first seat in the Illinois Senate after a difficult legal battle over the signatures submitted by his opponents. Then came the White House. But even there, Obama refused to abandon simple habits. He personally read letters from ordinary Americans and often replied to them himself — sometimes late at night. He believed a president should hear people directly, not only through statistics and reports. Obama is left-handed — like only a handful of U.S. presidents before him. He wore nearly identical dark suits and the same style of shoes every day so he wouldn’t waste energy on unnecessary decisions. And he had one tradition he never broke: on Election Day, he always played basketball. The only election he had ever lost happened when he skipped it. Michelle Obama once shared that even in the White House, her husband made his own bed every morning — a habit taught to him by his grandmother, Madelyn Dunham, whom he lovingly called “Toot.” Even while living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, he never forgot who he had been before becoming president. And perhaps that is why millions of people around the world saw in him not just a politician — but a human being. A man who, amid power, fame, and history-changing decisions, tried to preserve the things that mattered most: family, simplicity, humanity, and a connection to the people for whom all of it was meant to matter.

That Judge HR would have been out at 3 ballparks. Drew Rasmussen was incredible. Other than that, the Rays didn’t play well enough today. In the end, Tampa Bay got a win in the Bronx. Good enough heading to Baltimore. Will see NYY again July 6-9 inside the Trop.

Joe Biden literally wrote a memo telling staff that he’d be disappointed in them if they missed family milestones because of work.

Blaming jet lag, but I also missed World Turtle Day yesterday! Every protected nest, rescued hatchling, clean beach, and filled-in sand hole matters. Small actions add up when it comes to protecting these ancient ocean travelers for future generations. #WorldTurtleDay

@woofknight So right! No judgement.

$289 to go! #OperationSunsetBoulevard theherdhouse.com gofund.me/6d68c3b53

May 24th is Tiara Day. Don't forget to wear your favorite one, and to nod to your people. #tiara #NoblesseOblige