7/31/09:
Hot... we have had record temperatures the last week.
The temperatures hit triple digits in the area by Tuesday and Wednesday, with high humidity for us at about 75%. Our normal temps are mid 70s to low 80s with low humidity. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable. Wednesday I gave up and hit 4 stores before finding 2 more fans to buy— ah, relief is sweet. Yesterday we cooled down to 85 degrees with humidity in the 50s. Now that's more like it, able to move about.
See you in August!
Gratitude is the heart's memory.
— French Proverb
7/26/09:
Yes, the last of the flower pictures I took last Sunday... the one below, to the right, links to a larger one for your enjoyment. I did buy some more flowering plants yesterday and they are still waiting for me to put them into their beds because we ended up having a big thunder and lightning rain storm yesterday evening. I was waiting for evening because our weather has been so sunny and hot. Our normal or average rainfall for May is 2", June is 1.88" and July is 1.1", with a yearly total of 32.3"— this year we had 1.21" for May, .08" for June and, so far, .20" for July. Our rainstorm last evening netted only .03", yikes! Despite little net gain in appreciable rainfall the storm did result in a close lightning strike that left us without power for 4 1/2 hours. When Jay called the electric company he found out 7 homes were without power in the area, that elite group including us. So my new yellow fuschia and other plants may hit the ground yet this evening, lightning willing.
THE ANIMALS
They were here before us—the animals—
and we were once them.
Without understanding we watched the sunrise
and the coming of night,
registered the changing of seasons
and dew on leaves that brushed our flanks.
We, the animals,
knew feelings, had a memory,
exchanged sounds and visual cues,
but did not know
what came before
or ask what was to come.
A neighbor sleeps with a wombat in her bed,
and her husband sleeps on the veranda.
Kangaroos watch TV through her sitting-room window.
Bottle-fed joeys get osteoporosis
if the composition of the milk isn’t right.
The females make better companions.
With shy brown eyes
they hop along beside you
as you collect mail from the gate at dusk.
We were once them,
and now are their custodians.
They know we are different
and their eyes tell us to keep our promise.
— Geoffrey Lehmann, the above excerpted from the full poem at The New Yorker
7/23/09:
I have two more flower pictures to show you but figured you had enough of the redundancy for now. Working most of my life in health care has lead me to have strong opinions about health care in the US, the cartoon to the left reflecting some of my thoughts. I have rambled on and on about this subject over the years, as you may know. I would like to see health care in the US not be primarily a for-profit enterprise. I would also like to see American unions stop bearing the brunt of criticism for the staggering health care costs that contribute to problems US companies have competing in the international marketplace— the real culprit is a system, unlike that of the rest of the world, that ties health care to jobs. We are unique in the world in our focus on individualism, just as we are unique in losing our health care when we lose our jobs. Just how many people elect to pay those COBRA costs when they have no income? Enuff, the box I am standing on is getting sudsy...
The cartoon links to a site with videos about/from individuals with Young Onset Alzheimer's and their families– worth the trip...
My name is Linda Peeno. I am here primarily today to make a public confession: In the Spring of 1987, as a physician, I denied a man a necessary operation that would of saved his life, and thus caused his death. No person, and no group has held me accountable for this, because in fact, what I did was I saved a company a half a million dollars for this. And for the more, this particular act secured my reputation as a good medical director, and it insured my continued advancement in the health care field. I went from making a few hundred dollars a week as a medical reviewer, to an escalating six-figure income as a physician executive. In all my work, I had one primary duty, and that was to use my medical expertise for the financial benefit for the organization which I worked. And I was told repeatedly that I was not denying care, I was simply denying payment. I know how managed care pains and kills patients. So I am here to tell you about the dirty work of managed care. And I'm haunted by the thousands of pieces of paper in which I have written that deadly word, "denied".— Dr. Linda Peeno, testifying before Congress 1996
7/20/09:
Hey man, crazy day at work while outside the building the world was in full summer sun and heat— got to water my flowers tonight. The picture on the left today is a continuation of my theme from yesterday, with a nice long view of the Gladiola growing in the midst of other flowers (it is amazing what a backhoe digging up your yard can do for creative flower placement). If you click on it you will once again be treated to a lovely flower picture, this time one of the side view along the house but featuring the Glad. Enjoy!
I count on Jay to keep me informed about the world and today I bombarded him with my usual "What happened today in the news?" after I got home. He told me they fixed the space-station toilet, that it was the most interesting piece of news, and that it was very expensive because it is a long way to send a plumber. Hmm, I pondered his editorial comment. I replied: yeah but with the spacesuit on you wouldn't have to look at his crack! Jay thought others would chuckle if I put my comment on my page...
Later man.
Nature does not work with an end in view.— Spinoza
7/19/09:
The front yard flowers have been attracting the neighborhood hummingbirds. They seem to really like the red Crocosmia Lucifer near the front door. I have enjoyed the bright contrast of the purple Bee Balm with the red Crocosmia, but just the other day a pale Gladiola with deep pink edges started blooming in the midst of those two plants making a gorgeous sight. If you click on the picture to the left that I took today, you can see a lovely close up— at least I think it is lovely.
The small amount of red chard that was growing in the garden started to bolt this week so I finally set off on the chard cooking odyssey I mentioned contemplating a while back. Today I cut the stems, cut off individual leaves and followed this recipe— which was scrumptious. Who would have thought roasting something in cream and cheese would make it incredibly yummy? Well, yes, you are right— the French might... Highly recommended, many thumbs up. Will plant and cook again. Have a good week, ciao!
The question is not what you look at but what you see.— Thoreau
7/18/09:
I drove down to Seattle this morning to visit my friend Carol at UW Hospital. She is having plasma exchanges prior to the big adventure this next week, when she will begin the challenging process of her stem cell transplant. It is interesting how things can be challenging, exciting, hopeful and scary all at once. Carol has had some chemo treatments already, resulting in a fair amount of hair loss we have commiserated about over the phone. When I saw her in person today I rubbed her head and remarked that this has given her a glimpse of her hair 50 years from now. I don't think the nurse was comfortable hearing me speak out loud about such things, feeling it necessary to remind me when Carol was in the bathroom that a woman's hair is important to her and Carol will most likely be losing the rest of her hair later this next week. Yes, yes I know that. I also know a woman's life is important to her too. Silence is often not really our friend, but in difficult times laughter almost always is. I talked with Carol about it later as she fussed with her wig (which is the perfect color for her). She said the wig kept feeling like it was slipping up her head, like it was going to fall off. She reviewed possible solutions, from a dab of silly putty on her head, to a glued on velcro strip, to the solution that made us laugh the most— a snap sewn to her scalp. Carol likes to laugh, she is a positive person and a good friend. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers...
When I left home this morning to drive to Seattle the sky was hazy but the day soon spoke of summer— a lovely sunny, warm day with a nice little breeze stirring the air. It was a nice day for a drive and a nice day for a late afternoon outing to Rexville for cheese and wine tasting. The day's evening was also perfect for washing my car and quenching the thirst of my sun-drenched flowers that the humming birds seem to enjoy this year.
The news this last week was filled with Congressional hearings, serious goings-on. Our leaders were trying to figure out if a non-white person without a penis could possibly be unbiased toward white males. Now that is an excellent question! Can Sotomayer really simply ignore her experiences growing up and living in a society dominated by caucasian males? Hmm, yes, a good question as it is possible she has not experienced unbiased behavior herself from the likes of her Congressional questioners. Let's hope she is a bigger person than the behavior they have displayed suggests they are.
Befitting that last paragraph, Carol's picture links to a Snopes report on a circulating email about a bird attracted to some of the same shiny things our representatives are— enjoy!
I respect your talent, but I don't like anything else about you.— Columbo in Murder Under Glass
7/17/09:
Now that's a good face. I grew up watching Walter, somehow feeling reassured by his voice. I'm sure I did not see his choking up as he announced JFK's death because I was at school when the news came over the loud speaker that the President had been shot and it was known Kennedy was dead before we got home, but having seen that clip so many times since... it still touches a deep cord and mixes so firmly with memory.
As Walter would say, "And that's the way it is." More quotes from the best news anchor ever, and always, in my book:
I can't imagine a person becoming a success who doesn't give this game of life everything he's got.
I think it is absolutely essential in a democracy to have competition in the media, a lot of competition, and we seem to be moving away from that.
Our job is only to hold up the mirror— to tell and show the public what has happened.
There is no such thing as a little freedom. Either you are all free, or you are not free.
America's health care system is neither healthy, caring, nor a system.
When Moses was alive, these pyramids were a thousand years old. Here began the history of architecture. Here people learned to measure time by a calendar, to plot the stars by astronomy and chart the earth by geometry. And here they developed that most awesome of all ideas— the idea of eternity.
I want to say that probably 24 hours after I told CBS that I was stepping down at my 65th birthday, I was already regretting it. And I regretted it every day since.
Many of us also could not believe it... adieu.
7/13/09:
We don't think our poppies have ever been blooming so late into the summer before. Perhaps this is because so little rain has fallen. Usually rain weights down the poppies, they fall over and get moldy. This year the bright sun has protected Jay's favorite poppies, keeping them safe to bloom, and clean. What follows is an excerpt of Mary Oliver's poem "Poppies". If you click on the picture of our side flower bed you can read the poem in its entirety. Enjoy...
Poppies
The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation
of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn't a place
in this world that doesn't
sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage
shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair...
But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,
when it's done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive...
— Mary Oliver
7/11/09:
Jay and I did go see the movie Up last Saturday. The good reviews were right, although I had not actually sat and read a review prior to going so was unprepared for the opening story— you might want to take some kleenex. I liked the use of the album pictured to the left, belonging to the main character's wife. She started it as a child, filling it with pictures and trinkets of her adventures and dreams, followed by blank pages ready to fill with things she was going to do. John Lennon was right, life is what happens while you're making other plans. What's happening man? Life. Check it out on the big screen, it is worth the big bucks.
Our cherry trees as well as our raspberry bushes are loaded, we passed on buying any fruit at the store today. Interestingly, our apple trees have only a few, meaning like half a dozen, apples on them. My masseuse, Myabi, said her trees were in the same straits. Even more interestingly, as I mentioned earlier in June, our apple tree we view from our dining table had yet another small cluster of blossoms on it a week or so ago, again. Sheer wackiness.
The peas are now ready, as are the red-stemmed chard I planted this year, which I will be trying to cook with for the first time. Lots of good stuff, from the ground— who would've thought? From the dust, food and man. Life, always more to find out and discover. Ciao, et deux (who says you can't mix Italian and French?):
To some extent, each of us marries to make up for his own deficiencies. As a child, no one can stand alone against his family and the community... he is in no position to leave and to set up a life elsewhere. In order to survive as children, we have all had to exaggerate those aspects of ourselves that pleased those on whom we depended, and to disown those attitudes and behaviors that were unacceptable to them. As a result, to varying degrees, we have each grown into disproportionate configurations of what we could be as human beings. What we lack, we seek out and then struggle against in those we select as mates. We marry the other because he (or she) is different from us, and then we complain, 'Why can't he (she) be more like me?'— Sheldon B. Kopp
Marriage is our last, best chance to grow up.— Joseph Barth
7/5/09:
The side fence composed of left overs is done for now, the raspberries are abundant, and our cherries are red and sweet.
My niece Kristin gave birth to her first child, Dylan Michael, yesterday. 8 pounds of happiness for his parents and family. Best wishes 4th of July boy.
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?
— Mary Oliver
7/4/09:
Happy July 4th. I can't help but comment on the bizarre news that Governor Palin has announced that she is quitting her position because she is not a quitter and because she has nothing to do. Ms. Palin continues to demonstrate incredible oratorical skills: "And a problem in our country today is apathy... It would be apathetic to just hunker down and 'go with the flow.' Nah, only dead fish 'go with the flow.' No. Productive, fulfilled people determine where to put their efforts, choosing to wisely utilize precious time ... to BUILD UP." (quote from The New York Times). Excellent. Ms. Palin, fervent anti-choice activist, raved that "Life is about choices!" Fascinating.
Jay and I, in addition to to enjoying Palin's comedy act this weekend, have been putting the fence we used to have next to the house, where the addition went, along our property line on the east side. It is a laborious process because, for whatever reason, each fence panel is a different size, requiring measuring and placing each post one at a time. Yesterday we ran errands and headed out to a nursery south of town, Skagit Gardens, and I picked up a pink/red coneflower plant and a variegated Jacob's Ladder, rescued from the cut-out section. I used to have non-variegated Jacob's Ladders at a house many years ago and they thrived, sending up lots of babies. The variegated ones have nice foliage and I had one prior to the building activity here last year— I don't know if it was destroyed in that process or simply did not make it through the cold of last winter. My new plant is in the shade of our Golden Chain Tree, where I think it will enjoy itself, although the variegated varieties do not easily reproduce like the plain green ones.
We are going to go see the movie "Up" this afternoon and piddle about some more, enjoying time at home in peace and quiet. To each his own, ciao.
We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office.— Aesop (620-560 BC)
7/2/09:
What day of the week is this? My orientation to the day of the week continues to be zapped. Despite the reasons being different from any time past (when I always enjoyed Friday after quitting time the best) I am still enamored of non-work days, desperate for reprieve from stress and fatigue. This week is special, a three day weekend celebrating the birth of news ideas— when Thomas Paine declared "The birthday of a new world is at hand." We, all of humanity (although we do like to think narrowly of only ourselves), embarked upon creating what had never before been imagined, "until now". Every day can be a birth day, it is not our power but our will that limits us. Happy birthday world, happy holiday weekend for me. I hope you have a long holiday weekend too.
The picture of hands links to a site about the history of slavery. The US was not early in the world's abandonment of slavery, despite its declarations that would seem to be counter to slavery's existence. Growth happens unevenly- we have pretty much all noted this ourselves. I picked this image from google image search as I looked for an image to go along with a book report for Myron Uhlberg's Hands of My Father– yet another library find. The author is only a couple of years younger than my mother and writes of his experience growing up in those decades of the '30s and '40s with deaf parents, struggling with the dual roles of adult, in interpreting for his parents, and child. The underlined title of the book above links to a CS Monitor review, the only review I found in my brief search that did not trivialize the book by foolish statements like It's hard to believe now, but there was a time when all handicapped people suffered from the deep scorn and revulsion of their fellow humans. Hmm, interesting. Yes, we are all enlightened now, the world is free from scorn and ridicule of those not like ourselves.
I read this book quickly, in my plodding way. I enjoyed the author's descriptions of his family life, the love and caring, and of his father's hands- whose first message was "I love you." The author had the privilege of hearing the taunts, knowing the names his parents were called but could not hear. He writes of a childhood filled with challenges different than those most of us knew, struggling to answer his father's questions about sound, struggling to describe to his father the sound of colors. The author also tells of leaving his father's hospital room with his mother to get a bite to eat and returning to discover his father's bed empty, "No one on the floor could tell us where my father was." Decades later he speaks of bearing the knowledge that for his father in his final minutes on earth "There was not one person around him to whom he could express his resignation, his regrets, or his fears in his own language." The author and his mother did find his father's body down in the morgue, after looking under many sheets. We can hope, indeed, that some things have changed. We can hope. I liked this book— you are on your own, read it yourself if you wish. Also if you wish, go to American Sign Language University for more info on sign language, a very interesting language.
More later, keep cool.
No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit.— Helen Keller
7/1/09:
Grappler sent me a MoveOn.org link to send a congratulatory message to Al Franken, heading to Washington almost 8 months after being elected. Click on his picture to send one yourself. Here's what I had to say:
Hey Al, Congrats and best, best wishes. Idea: change Social Security laws so people who are approved for Social Security Disability do not have to wait 2 years to get health care from Medicare... are they even talking about that? Keep us in the medical profession who want to see BIG change in mind, our system is very poor-- stop health insurance from being tied to jobs and stop it from being a for-profit enterprise. Greed is not the preferred motivator. Always remember your mission, don't let them suck it out of you. Love ya! Cindy
Our raspberries are ripening and we have been picking them every other night since last week, which will continue for 2 or 3 weeks, piling up in the freezer to add to our oatmeal this winter. Busy, busy, busy... more later. Welcome to July 2009, we've made it this far. Ciao.
Corruption and hypocrisy ought not to be inevitable products of democracy, as they undoubtedly are today.— Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948)
Jardot's World: July Edition, 2009
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