This wind is the weather I expect of March not April but here it is. I have no wind gage but the tops of the Ponderosa pine are dancing wildly as if to keep time to a marimba band. An interesting swaying to watch and I am happy to be indoors for viewing. When I work outside in such wind I get ear aches so I will stay in and watch the cheatgrass continue to grow in the front chipped rock. I pulled some last night just at sunset and a while longer since my eyesight is pretty good in the twilight. I think the stuff will be easy enough to pull but of course not without my effort. It will not be blown out of the soil so the job will still be up to me when I get up the courage or the wind dies, whichever comes first. Nancy and Jerry are on their seven-day cruise, now I forget their destination but they left from San Diego on some ship of the Princess Line on an upper deck on which their door opened. I can imagine Jerry in his wondrous mood for making conversation. He is one of those who has never met a stranger. The ship is large enough that it will not roll and pitch as did the sailing ship on which I did a barefoot cruise. Oh years and years ago in the British Virgin Islands. Or was it from Culebra? Well those were great times too. We often anchored in protected coves because of the hurricane threats. No small winds they were.
Archive for April, 2012
An hour or two bent over sorting weeds from favorite plants might leave me permanently shaped like a question mark but I will tell you I got a big pile of pulled stuff for the yard waste bin. The soil is well soaked from the recent rain and grass clumps and dandelion roots are loose and willingly let go. Good thing they do not know they go to death row. Maybe they do. Interesting thought. Plants do not have brains but somewhere in their cells is the basis for human understanding so I wager with my squinting eye that they are resolved to their destiny. Unlike my body, however, when plants die can become mulch of food and nutrition for upcoming roots and stems of plants. I would probably do my garden more good if I turned the weeds over with my spade to become mulch. I have only so much energy and today I put it to making space for the roots of rhubarb, tulips, garlic, and iris that will pleasure me for the summer. Well done, bent or straight.
Last night when returning from the monthly meeting of the Tri-City Stamp Club in the community room of the Charbonneau Retirement Center, I got misled on both of the round-abouts from Kennewick to Richland. First the exit took me toward Benton City which was not only in the wrong direction but miles out of my way. I finally got on State Road 240 which eventually got me to the bypass where I found Abbot street. Traffic was brisk at 9 pm and in the outside lane it was expedient to take off on the first exit. It was to the right but nevertheless was wrong. At the meeting, I had picked up some past issues of the Scott monthly stamp publication. It had been some months, almost seems like years, that I had attended to my stamp collection and now that there apparently will be no new postage designations I took a fresh look at what I have. Each time the US Postal Service issues a new design it is numbered. I have some cancelled stamps of the first numbers in the six hundred series. At one time I purchased an entire new sheet of the issue. I see no need of continuing that practice. No one in my family is interested in such a collection. I collected thimbles, too, as well as stamps from counties I visited. Collections take up space which I am running out of. So I will not continue. My ‘collector’ gene was not passed on. But stamps have nothing to do with taking wrong exits from round-abouts, just a convenient connection from one subject to another.
My flights are booked from Pasco – Salt Lake City – New Orleans to attend the 71st annual conference of the American Humanist Conference from June 6, 2012, through June 11, 2012. I registered at the New Orleans Sheraton in the AHA block at $129 a night. I have lifetime membership in AHA having served as a board officer. I have never been to New Orleans so this will be interesting for several reasons. It will be my first visit and because the city has not fully recovered from a hurricane years ago many areas are still in ruin so I have no concept of past history – that it once had been the dazzling port of entry to the USA or the gathering for the ruffians who terrorized and stole from people all along the gulf. What history shall I find there?
Last night I sat watching lightning flashing all around the sky. Fascinating to say the least. I had not yet turned on my houselights. Nor had the streetlights come on. The sun had just set and except for the flashing everything was very black. I have no idea how long the storm lasted but I stepped out and felt raindrops, happy that my plants would be watered without my help. The light fluttered as if uncertain of what to do. After fifteen minutes I gave up to my sleepy eyelids. My bedtime. This morning I could see that a wind had apparently come up because twigs from the tall cottonwood next door had blown off and lay all around. I have to rake the yard anyway so eventually I will clean it up. Storms of this nature happened frequently in Minnesota I remember very well. Here I will remember the event as a spectacle and be pleased if and when it happens again.
Just had a terrible panic. The cursor wouldn’t work. The pad below the keyboard is activated and sends the cursor all over the place. I seem to have hit something correctly because I can type but what happened is a mystery to me. Somehow I must turn the turn that off pad off. I do not know how. Darn, I don’t know how I turned it on. Did it just happen in the JAM area? I guess I will find out when I turn the computer off and then on again. Oh bother. All I want to do is to blog.
Dan’s postcard from London where he and wife Deb are celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary prompted me to take their high school yearbook down from a dusty shelf to recall stuff which led to a whole lot of memories of my own. A close friend remarked that I also had traveled many places in the world. I visited England twice and I viewed the tower of which Dan wrote, and my most favorite recollection is of the time I walked around Stonehenge and touched the stones. Just trying to imagine the Celtic reverence in which these stones were held was awesome and really quite impossible for me. People had to be superstitious to have believed there was power there. Yet the power seemed to hover within the stones even after centuries of standing desolate on the Salisbury Plains. Dan is my fourth child and he has many stories of his travels as I do. My other kids except Thomas have been happy to remain close to home. I have monthly income with which I could travel but long hours aboard airlines are not appealing. Not that they ever were but now I am content with my house, yard, trees and shrubs. The only postcards I mail are to remind that March is Autism Awareness month and people might want to send dollars that will benefit the families and kids who face that problem on a daily basis and will for many years. Autistic people very rarely become self sufficient.
Just sharing my bushes just planted. Evergreen broadleaved called Laurel. Evergreen means that the bush will not lose it leaves – at least not all at once, just that old ones drop off when a new bud comes out. Great Huh? These are supposed to be shorter than Laurels can be. So maybe they will only get about five feet high. But like all plants that come into my domain, they are subject to pruning. Probably not for a few years. I think I posted them on Facebook, but then I am still learning this technology.
How delightful it was this morning to see my backyard trees sunbathing. The full previous week was overcast with the sun occasionally coming through as a white spot leaving a gloomy grey atmosphere. Now the scene seemed to take on a cozy golden glow. Not at all sunbathing weather for this lady but warmth on my cedar rocky for sure. I must face front and work some more on settling in the two laurel bushes I put in. They add beautiful character against the native plants on the opposite side of the front walk and will likely take gallons of water along with the tender loving of the sun, and me of course.
A blotch of red on my right cheek bone is the result of running into a door. Yeah right! You must have heard that story. Maybe more than once. But so help me, I reached to open my car door and the effort pulled me forward right into the sharp corner. Just under my left eye glass. Did it ever hurt! Still does. Looks awful too – a small red scab. I had no meeting today or in the next several days so maybe it will heal over before I have to deny a fistfight or mugging or whatever. Then again maybe no one will even notice.