Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Well, I guess
when it rains, it pours. Although some folks unfortunately took the brunt of the storm, the area in general needed this rain to help relieve our extended drought.
I saw a long string of what appear to be poppies blooming by the side of Ajo Way on my way in to work today. I'm wondering if we will be treated to an amazing wildflower show this year as we occasionally are.
posted by Kirsten at 12:15 PM
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
So many articles, so little time.
The Heartland Institute exposes
Congress' "Separate and Not Equal" prescription drug benefits for retirees. That's right- members of Congress have decided that they deserve more prescription drug benefits in their retirement than you do.
Charlie Reese marvels that
"We killed thousands of Iraqis, including a half-million children, with bombs and sanctions. Now we expect them to like us."Wendy McElroy has some thoughts on fathers' rights activists
Going to Extremes.
That's enough for one day. It's getting to be time to retreat again- at least from the horrors of the news.
Perhaps the most heartening thing I have done in the last several weeks was to work in my garden. I swear the thing looks like an overgrown mass of weeds. And then I get in there and see a single pale orange blossom of a type I've never seen before. And then I notice a spray of purple star-like flowers with bright yellow centers. And then a few tiny white or blue flowers catch my eye.
As I start the yanking out of weed after tenacious desert weed, I uncover fleabane or lantana which has been fighting the weeds and losing. Soon I am dripping with sweat and my legs and back are getting sore. Pulling weeds with roots clinging to heavy rocks embedded in desert clay is a full-body effort.
I notice butterflies have taken to my garden- a large black one, another which looks like a monarch butterfly, the medium yellows, and a small white one with wings that look like the edges of tattered jeans. Now if I can just attract some hummingbirds...
Lizards and spiders crawl out from the undergrowth as I install a drip irrigation system. Ants are stirred to riot as I dig a shallow trench across my front walk.
I stake my wild cotton plant, and I'm thrilled to find evidence that I might actually have some home-grown cotton to play with.
Time slows down in the garden. I am not reminded of the horrors of Afghanistan or Iraq, of the civil rights abuses perpetrated here in the United States, of the massive and mounting spending habits of a filthy and corrupt government, or of the shear gall of the United States Border Snoops as they conduct High Intensity Enforcement of their invasions of the my privacy. I am reminded of why I wanted a wildflower garden in the first place.
posted by Kirsten at 1:49 PM
Thursday, August 21, 2003
As if the intrusive High Intensity Enforcement Zone run by the United States Border Snoops
50 miles north of the border along Ajo Way were not enough, apparently
Southern California's Border Snoops are getting the go-ahead to conduct more intrusive activities in the San Diego sector as well.
Here's a fellow who I would hope everyone has trouble taking seriously. Though he has no doubt demanded compliance from person after person subjected to the whims of his courtrooms,
Alabama Supreme Court Chief Justice Roy Moore is defying the ruling from that same justice system simply because they do not suit his personal preference to shove Christianity down the throats of anyone who passes through his court. If he doesn't have to comply with the law and the justice system's interpretation thereof, why should anyone else?
posted by Kirsten at 12:27 PM
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
A few weeks ago, the Shrub said of those attacking U.S. Forces in Iraq,
"Bring them on."Apparently,
they are.
Thanks for the leadership, GW. It's almost enough to make
this look credible. But Colin Ward reminds us that,
"If voting changed anything they'd make it illegal."A hearty OFERCRISSAKES goes out to Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church in Scottsdale (not to be confused with the myriad of other churches of the same name) where I went to school and was coerced into religious practice. They are now making a name for themselves as a result of their extreme pettiness over the
remains of two symphony patrons which were buried on their property by a church deacon but not in a cemetary as dictated by church policy. Note to OLPH leadership: get over yourselves already.
And get over YOURself, Arizona Governor Janet Napolitano. When the market rations gasoline, you call it "price gouging" and want to make a law against it, but it's okay if
you do it?
I am fortunate in the midst of depressing world, national and local news to be cheered by the blooming of wildflowers in the throes of the monsoon season here. This week I am hoping to get a drip system set up in my gardens, clean up my front walkway, and tame the weeds which are taking over both in front and out back. Time to turn off the news and get to work.
posted by Kirsten at 5:55 PM
Friday, August 01, 2003
I just wanted to take a moment to mention two favorites that I have been enjoying in the last couple of days. I received in the mail my latest copy of
Cook's Illustrated magazine, and I found my lost John Mayer CD.
Okay, first off I just plain love John Mayer's lyrics. It is as though this guy was mucking around in my mind and putting many of my private thoughts to music. (No, not Your Body Is a Wonderland. The other stuff about figuring out what the hell is going on in life.)
Now the other thing- that's a little strange. We find wonderful things in such strange places. My sister and brother-in-law gave me a subsription to
Cook's Illustrated either for Christmas or my birthday (I can never keep straight what is for which because they are close together). Of course, I love the fabulous recipes, product reviews, etc. in these magazines.
But the hidden vein of gold appears near the front of each issue. Founder and Editor Christopher Kimball (the nerdy guy in the bow tie on the PBS show
America's Test Kitchen) writes the most wonderful column. It is a fine commentary on life in small town Vermont- and by extension life itself. I eagerly await the arrival of this single page every other month. For the five or ten minutes it takes me to read it, I am in Vermont at the chicken and biscuit dinner fundraiser down at the firehouse, eating the last annual supper of the Ten Point Fish and Game Club held in the old Bunker Hill Schoolhouse, or mourning the death of Kimball's neighbor John Kurasinski at his funeral. I have yet to read that last column without tears filling my eyes. Kimball writes:
"When the minister asked if anyone wanted to say a few words, I didn't stand up and add my testimony. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to say my piece without crying like a fool. So I want to take a moment and say it now. We loved you, John. In a world of folks who can't decide between latte and cappuccino, in a time in which most of us can't see beyond a pretty face, you were bedrock, the stuff that will endure beyond this insubstantial age. And even though you hated crowds and public spectacle, I know that you would have said a few words over my dead body if I had been the first to go. But I knew all along that you had more character than me.
So when the rain comes sweeping down over Egg Mountain toward your homestead across the valley, Adrienne and I will listen for you in the night, for the complaint of storm that yields to morning's clear skies. You are pilllowed in the voluptuous sweep of our hills, in the hearts of your neighbors, and in the sound of your ashes on the howling wind, restless, seeking, but a comfort to those in need of a friend on the other side of midnight."
(from
Cook's Illustrated, April 2003, p. 1)
And here I am again wiping my eyes.
posted by Kirsten at 2:02 PM
