Lady Hillingdon, seemingly reluctant to have sex with her husband, wrote in her diary: “When I hear his steps outside my door I lie down on my bed, open my legs and think of England.”

How fitting a sentiment since I feel like America has been royally fucked by this election season.

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The ChickieNob and I started binge-watching the new Netflix show, The Crown.

It begins with Queen Elizabeth’s marriage to Prince Philip (or, at the time, Princess Elizabeth’s marriage to Philip Mountbatten), and I’ve heard that the series will go up to Diana’s death in the future.  We heard about this series a few months ago, and we marked the release date on the calendar, eager to be mentally transported to England.

The show is fantastic, and we spend the hour alternating between shouting at the television, “Get rekt!” every time someone delivers a clever takedown and holding each other while we sob.

It’s nice to close our eyes and think of England, taking an hour off at a time from this election.  And it’s also nice to get the perspective the show gives to the monarchy, especially a woman’s rise to power.  Yes, the job was Elizabeth’s whether she wanted it or not, but the criticism and grace tell a larger story of what it means to be a woman in charge.  To be held to a different standard, to be scrutinized, to be judged.

It’s a show about the British monarchy, but it comes full circle in helping frame the story around Hillary Clinton.  Hopefully by tonight we will know the fate of our presidency in America.  Beyond voting today and trying to get others to the polls, this election is finished.  But afterwards, regardless of who wins, America needs to take a good, long look at its relationship with women.

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Sometimes it is necessary to not focus on the details in front of you but instead use any means of distraction to get through a situation.  Everyone should have a place they can mentally go when the going gets tough.

Other times, we need to come back to reality and face the facts in front of us.  It starts with the narrative surrounding Clinton and it stretches out in a multitude of directions to a multitude of groups.

Deep breaths, everyone.  Today it’s about the election.  Tomorrow it’s about being better and doing better as a country.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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I wanted to get a red shawl to wear to the polls tomorrow, even though the meaning will be lost on all but a few select nerds.  Susan B Anthony wore a red shawl while fighting for the right to vote.  I love this quote from the Museum of American History:

It was said in Washington that there were two signs of spring: the return of Congress to the nation’s capital and the sight of Anthony’s red shawl as she also returned to lobby congressmen.

I am very emotional about getting to vote for a woman president in a way that I’ve never been emotional before when going to the polls.  Which is probably the definition of privilege.  I’ve always taken it for granted that I have the right to vote, though there are women voting today who were born before that right to vote.

I guess I wanted to wear red to thank those women who did the hard work of bringing us to this point.

Do you ever think about those women when you head to the polls, or is it only front and center in so many people’s minds because we finally have a possibility for a female president?

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

Every time I throw a dinner party, we end up with too many leftover desserts.  What happens is that I start with a realistic menu based on the number of people attending the meal.  Then I add an extra dish or two because I worry that the table will not look full or people won’t be able to find something they like or it just won’t be… enough.  It won’t fulfill an abstract concept of enoughness.

Then I plan for a dessert or two, and quickly start increasing the number of desserts and the size of those desserts because I am (1) worried that people will still be hungry after dinner and (2) worried that it won’t be enough.

For Rosh HaShanah, for instance, I made it so that each person at the table could eat nine cookies.  Nine.  Oh, and did I mention they were enormous chocolate chip cookies — only six fit on a cookie sheet.  But people could have nine of them.  People were full from the over-sized meal.  They barely made a dent in the cookies on the table.

In my defense, it’s sometimes hard to judge what people want, or to know whether or not you’ve done enough except in retrospect.

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I am worried about Tuesday.  I’m worried about this election in a way that I’ve never been worried before.  I wasn’t a fan of Romney or McCain, but I was never scared listening to them speak.  I knew they could lead the country, and any problems they created were fixable issues.

But this election is different.

I am terrified of Trump’s America.  I want to believe the polls that place Hillary ahead, but polls are like promises — people may keep them… or they may not.  We don’t know definitively which way this election will go, and I am scared that people have become complacent.  I’ve heard too many people say things like, “Well, I don’t want Trump, but I don’t want to vote for Hillary, so I’ll just leave that part of the ballot blank.”  Or not vote at all.  And I’ve heard too many people say things like, “Don’t worry, Hillary has got this.”  I equally fear that people will not vote, trusting that other people’s votes will keep Trump out of office.

The only way to ensure that Trump does not end up in the White House is to band together and not hand Trump the keys to the White House.

The most direct, proven-to-work path is to vote for Clinton.  Anything short of that is continuing the possibility of a Trump White House.  I’m not saying that because I want Clinton in the White House.  I am saying that because if no one gets enough electoral votes, the House of Representatives chooses our next president, picking from the three top candidates.  I bolded that because I don’t want you to miss those words.  Each state gets one vote, but the House is made up of 246 Republicans and 186 Democrats.  If you choose not to vote for Clinton, you are, effectively, creating the possibility of a Trump White House.

This isn’t about likeability.  This isn’t about emails or holding one person accountable for all human errors.  This is about the opposite scenario, and Magpie says it best:

I’m worried about the possibility of our country being led by a man who has admitted sexual assault, who has used his foundation for personal gain, who’s on trial for fraud with regard to Trump University, who hasn’t released his taxes (because he doesn’t want to show us that he hasn’t paid any), who has called for the ban of an entire religion from entering the US, who belittled John McCain for being a POW, who’s called Mexicans rapists, who attacked a beauty pageant winner for being overweight, who wonders why we can’t use the nuclear weapons we have, who thinks women who have abortions should be punished, who makes fun of disabled people, who disregards the First Amendment and wants an end to freedom of the press, who thinks global warming is a Chinese hoax, who loves Putin, who doesn’t pay his contractors, who … do I need to go on?

So I worry.  I worry about whether I have done enough in doing my part to help ensure that we get someone into the White House who is not going to scapegoat whole groups of people.  I worry about whether there is something more I can do between now and Tuesday night.  I worry about everyone else — will they do enough to stamp out hatred, or will they leave the door open for a possible Trump White House?

We’ll know within 72 hours.

There are exactly two things powering me through life right now.  I wish they didn’t make me sound vapid.  But you know what? They do, so let’s just put it out there in the open.  It’s Shuffle Cats and Dirk Gently.

Shuffle Cats makes me happy.  Cats playing cards at a speakeasy and wearing flapper outfits?  Makes me happy.  It’s a digital card game made by the creators of Candy Crush, but unlike Candy Crush, there are few gates in place to slow down game play.  So I could conceivably play for hours, though I try not to gamble my life away.  It’s a free app, which means we owe King.com an enormous thank you for it.  Greatest app ever, and I don’t care how that makes me sound.

Dirk Gently is a television remake of the books (well, loosely based on the books) rolling out via BBC America.  I told Josh that on a scale from 1 to 10, I was a 15 when it came to pre-show excitement.  It lived up to all the hype in my head.  iTunes has the first episode free for download if you want to try it out.  I’m still at a 15 when I think about each episode.

Part of me is a little embarrassed that the only thing I have to contribute to conversations lately is information about cats playing cards and holistic detectives, but I own it.  Shuffle Cats + Dirk Gently = Getting Through the Day.

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Stop procrastinating.  Go make your backups.  Don’t have regrets.

Seriously.  Stop what you’re doing for a moment.  It will take you fifteen minutes, tops.  But you will have peace of mind for days and days.  It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Measuring Myself” (Searching for Our Silver Lining)
• “Infertility Limbo. Or, Stopping so That You Can Carry On” (Different Shores)
• “No Regrets.  Boom Boom!” (No Kidding in NZ)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Much Ado About Nothing has a post marking her child’s first birthday, but moreover, her own mental state when it comes to her fertility.  I love the two sides of this part — the highs and the lows: “I thank G-d every night I have this life, that He gave me this chance to be these tiny people’s mother. It’s messy, and stressful, and there is yelling and fighting, and tears, and laughter. And I would be lying if I said it didn’t weigh on my mind every single day if I will get to do this again, one last time.”  And it’s a gorgeous, aching ending.

A concrete post I can point to forever for why I love blogging: Kmina visited a place I wrote about on my blog awhile back; a place I had read about in an article and wanted to see.  And she photographed the whole thing and made the big, overwhelming world feel small and cozy.  And now I really have to get over there and see the salt mines.

Lastly, while I normally am not moved by articles on Buzzfeed, Laura Turner’s post about her miscarriage made me pause.  Actually, the turning point in the post was when she visited a friend who had miscarried while Turner was still pregnant.  She wrote: “She didn’t cry, and I didn’t ask many questions. I would have done that differently, knowing what I know now.”  Isn’t that it?  There’s one side where you just don’t know, and there’s another side where you do.  And I’m really sad for those of us who know, and it makes me look at those who don’t with a lot more forgiveness.  And this: “But when it’s a fetus that has died, or a baby, or whatever you want to call it, your life doesn’t change, and that’s the strange part — because it was supposed to.”

The roundup to the Roundup: Shuffle Cats and Dirk Gently.  Your weekly backup nudge.  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between October 28th and November 4th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.

Yesterday I had coffee with the twins’ old Kindergarten teacher.  We do this from time to time, especially now that the twins are out of elementary school.  She is one of the kindest, gentlest, wisest women I know.

Technically, we had the coffee date on the calendar for several weeks, but it felt like it materialized at the exact, right moment.  I received bad news as I got to the parking lot, and I had to walk inside with a straight face, trying not to cry.

Okay, I did cry.  But that’s not the point.  The point was that who better to spend time with when your heart is hurting than a warm, caring Kindergarten teacher?  She is criss-cross-applesauce and sound-out-the-word and add up the green pegs.  She is a reminder that everyone starts somewhere, and that the simplest moments are the ones that stick with you forever.

Like your children’s old teacher buying you a bagel for dinner because everyone needs to eat.

It’s funny because one of the twins has a roundabout way of doing things.  We say that they operate by their own clock.  They always get there in the end, on their own schedule.  This fact came up in the conversation, and we marveled that it’s true — leave that kid alone with some gentle prodding in the correct direction, and they will get there in the end.  (Whenever there may be.)

I am the opposite.  I am obsessed with time; with controlling time and using time wisely and worrying about time.  I never worry about my kid reaching where they need to go, but I worry about myself.  I worry that I am late.  That I’m not making the most of every moment.  That I am being left behind.

It makes no sense: How I can trust time to unfold as it needs to unfold with my kid, but I don’t release my death grip on my timeline for myself?

I’m running a race but I’m the only one on the track.  There will be no winners or losers because there’s just me, huffing along as if I’m being chased even though there is no one else there.

I think that sometimes the universe places the right person in your path at the right time.  That is what happened yesterday: a randomly scheduled coffee date unfolded right when it needed to unfold, reminding me through comfort, kind words, and the acknowledgment of well-timed coincidence that there is a timeline out there.  I just have to do enough to head in the correct direction.  I’ll eventually get there.