The federal government appears to be conducting a security review of everything except its own judgment, with reporters losing access to the White House and a proposed decorative arch acquiring plans for drones and snipers. Here in our little corner of Oregon, I was grateful today to encounter a public official whose approach to a possible hazard was to come over and investigate it, which felt almost extravagantly sensible under the circumstances.
This afternoon, I’m taking my daughter to the clinic to get her tested for lead exposure, and my husband and I both have appointments with our provider to get our own testing arranged. We are making progress, although I would have preferred a family activity that involved fewer bodily fluids and perhaps a commemorative photograph. Next on my list is Odin, because our golden doodle is also a member of this family, despite contributing absolutely nothing toward the mortgage and having no apparent plans to seek employment.
Ezra remains happy and full of love, carrying on with the very important business of being our baby boy while the adults attempt to identify every possible source of trouble around him. His happiness is a comfort, even while we wait for answers, and I’m trying to let myself enjoy it without making every sweet moment report for duty in the worry department.
The public-health program manager came by today and collected samples from our hardwood floors. He explained that the old finish could contain lead and considered it a possible contributor worth investigating, which was a development I had somehow failed to anticipate when admiring the character of our 1952 house. Apparently, “original charm” may come with additional paperwork. We don’t have those results yet, so the floors remain under investigation, and I will resist issuing a conviction against the entire living room. If the samples come back positive, we’ll need help figuring out what needs to happen to make them safe, alongside the water concerns we’re already working through.
Now, I did want to give these floors some love, because they need it, but I had pictured doing that in the imaginary future when we had finished several other projects and my bank account had developed a second source of income without involving me. There is a considerable difference between choosing a renovation and having the renovation arrive at your door carrying a deadline. And if the floors need work now, the money for my husband’s deck will have to go toward that instead. Of course our baby comes first, and I know he would put every penny toward keeping him safe, but knowing what we need to do doesn’t make it painless. My husband does an amazing job of pretending he isn’t sad, but I could still see the heartbreak in his face.
He’s been dreaming about that deck since he was a little boy sitting on one with his grandpa. There are years of love wrapped up in that dream, and I think about what it would mean for him to sit on his own deck someday, with our children beside him, carrying a little of that happiness forward. I’d been worrying about lumber and costs and how we would build it, and then I looked at his face and remembered just how much we were hoping to build.
I hate the thought of that dream being swallowed by another thing we have to fix. He can love our baby enough to give it up without hesitation and still be heartbroken, and I love him too much to pretend I don’t notice just because he’s trying so hard to make it easier. I want our children safe, and I want him to have that place to sit with them, and it hurts that right now I don’t know how to give our family both.
Underneath the jokes, of course, I’m scared, and tired of discovering another thing to worry about in a place we love so much. I want to make this home beautiful, but more than that, I want my children to be safe in it, without having to wonder about the water or the floor beneath their feet. There is a particular helplessness in looking at your baby, who trusts you with his whole little existence, and knowing that loving him this much still doesn’t make the answers arrive any faster.
We will find solutions, even if I don’t yet know exactly what those solutions look like or how we’ll pay for them. He is our baby boy, and the whole family, including the large unemployed dog, deserves a safe home, so we will keep asking questions and taking the next step. The gentleman from public health seemed to genuinely care, and I don’t want that small, ordinary goodness to disappear underneath everything else. He took the possibility seriously and collected samples so we could learn more. In the middle of a frightening situation, having someone show up whose job is to help, and who actually wants to do that job, means a great deal.
That seems like a reasonable standard to carry with us into the news: when something may be wrong, investigate it, tell people what you know, and help them work out what comes next. Which brings me, naturally, to today’s news. According to the Associated Press, CNN, MS NOW and Politico have sued the Trump administration after their journalists were barred from the White House and had their credentials revoked. The outlets allege that the administration is retaliating against coverage it dislikes and violating their First Amendment rights. Trump has defended the restrictions as an attack on “fake news,” while professing support for a free press.
I suppose every inspection would be more pleasant if the person being inspected could dismiss anyone who looked behind the refrigerator. We could’ve saved ourselves a great deal of trouble today by informing the public-health department that our floors were tremendous, possibly the finest floors anyone had ever seen, and that further sampling would be regarded as a hostile act against the household. Unfortunately, that would leave us with exactly the same possible problem and considerably less useful information.
There has been a response beyond the courthouse. People reports that the major networks in the White House television pool, including Fox News, ABC, CBS and NBC, joined CNN in halting their shared pool coverage after CNN was prevented from carrying out its assignment. That arrangement supplies footage to other news organizations, so disrupting it affects the information available well beyond the journalists standing at the gate. The public has an interest in reporters being able to ask questions that a president would rather avoid, just as we have an interest in inspectors being able to identify problems that a homeowner would rather not pay for. Access to the truth becomes especially valuable at the exact moment somebody powerful finds it inconvenient.
For those following Jimmy Kimmel, the current update is less dramatic than some of the speculation: ABC rejected a report earlier this month that his show would end in 2027, and TheWrap has reported negotiations about its future beyond his existing contract. His September 2025 suspension ended that month, and ABC has episodes scheduled this week. The dates matter, even when the national atmosphere makes every week feel like a rerun with a larger legal department.
Meanwhile, the proposed triumphal arch has apparently developed defense requirements. According to reporting from the Associated Press and the Financial Times, Trump said Sunday that the planned 250-foot arch near Arlington National Cemetery would house drones, snipers and ammunition, citing a request from the military. The Pentagon told AP it had no information beyond his statement. A lawsuit challenges proceeding without congressional authorization, and final planning approval remains pending.
I understand how projects expand, because I live in a house where fixing one thing regularly introduces us to three other things with financial expectations. Even so, I’ve never gone shopping for a decorative feature and come home needing an ammunition inventory. There should be a point in every design meeting when somebody is permitted to ask whether the throw pillows really require air support. The president’s statement establishes what he says he wants; it does not, by itself, establish that the military needs it. That distinction deserves to survive the rendering of an enormous arch, however tastefully the drones are arranged.
The same respect for evidence would be useful in the discussion of childhood vaccines, which is not an area where I particularly want anyone improvising. KFF Health News reports that Trump said Friday he would demand that drug companies divide vaccines into five doses at six-month intervals, claiming this would reduce autism, without making clear which immunizations he meant. On Sunday, Republican Sen. Bill Cassidy said the FDA nominee needed to reject Trump’s claim that the measles vaccine is lethal. The World Health Organization’s review of the evidence reaffirms that vaccines do not cause autism.
As a mother currently arranging testing for her family, I would appreciate a government that made reliable health information easier to obtain. I already have appointments to coordinate, questions to ask and a dog who can’t provide his own medical history. I shouldn’t also need to determine whether the latest presidential health announcement has survived contact with a qualified scientist. The public-health visit today helped because someone took a concern seriously enough to investigate it. That’s a process I can understand and participate in, even when the possible answers frighten me. Confidence delivered from a podium is much less useful when nobody can explain what evidence it rests on.
And while we are discussing inspections, the planet has received another report that should probably move a few items up the maintenance list. The latest Planetary Health Check finds that seven of nine planetary boundaries are already exceeded and that pressure across those seven continues to worsen, according to the Stockholm Resilience Centre. These boundaries describe interconnected systems that help keep Earth stable, including climate, biodiversity, freshwater and ocean chemistry. The researchers warn of growing risks of persistent, potentially irreversible change, while emphasizing that we still have the capacity to change course.
This is the part of homeownership where the person inspecting the property stops discussing your preferred paint color and asks whether you have understood the condition of the foundation. Unfortunately, the property in question contains everybody, and there is no available rental where we can stay while someone sorts it out. I don’t need every public official to make me feel comfortable, and today’s visit certainly did not leave me feeling that our renovation budget was about to enjoy a peaceful autumn. What mattered was that someone cared enough to help us find out what we were dealing with.
That is what I want for my family, and it’s a fair thing to expect for everyone else’s family, too: people who take the problem seriously, respect the evidence and stay interested after the photograph has been taken. I can joke about the floors because otherwise I might sit down on them and cry, although I would now prefer to wait for the laboratory results before choosing a location. Underneath all of it is the same simple determination that keeps us making appointments, asking questions and working out the next repair.
We love the people who live here, and their safety matters more than our pride in the house. I would like the people running the country to demonstrate the same attachment to its inhabitants, even if that means delaying the ceremonial sniper balcony.
If this work helps you make sense of the news while holding on to the people and things worth caring for, please consider subscribing to Geddry’s Newsletter or restacking this piece for someone who might need it.
If you’d like to leave a little extra love for our family’s projects, plants, and everyday adventures, you can chip in here.
Right now, those adventures involve lead testing, hardwood floors awaiting a verdict, and a repair budget threatening to swallow the deck my husband has dreamed of since he was a little boy sitting beside his grandpa. We’ll do whatever we need to keep our children safe, and I’m still hoping we can find a way to keep that dream alive, too. Anything you leave here helps us care for this home and the people growing up inside it, while we work toward the day he can sit on that deck with our children beside him, making the kind of memories that stayed with him all these years.
Lead, in your floors? Oh, please "say it ain't so"! How did you find this out? And wouldn't sealing them with something like Spar Varnish protect you?
There is such a yawning gap, in our Country, between its "leaders" and gazillionaire sycophants, and the needs of the rest of us!