small gardens & small government

  Those of you who know me know I hover somewhere between Catholic and agnostic. Thus when I say there are surprisingly few words about Adam in the Bible, you know I had to look to check. If you need to check it yourself go ahead you'll see. A little about how he came to be, a touch about Eve, a bit about that garden thing and then on to what the kids did. Really, I expected a lot more!   I mean what about that day Adam was sitting outside the garden fence thwacking a stick against a tree?! He was just thinking, I don't want any more sadness God. Yeah, yeah I know it's your plan and I'm not supposed to question it but your plan sucks! He flipped his middle finger towards heaven. As he did a hummingbird who had become blind landed on it. Yeah, see that's what I mean God. How am I supposed to fix this? Sure I can name it and that's fun but how can I fix the pain in the world?  Look at the old garden! It's an overgrown jungle. I need pruners, saws and a shovel

 Just came in from digging the kitchen scraps into the latest raised bed. The soil is essentially non-existent merely a fill of leaves, a tiny amount of grass clippings, and some wonderful chicken coop material Deb's sister had saved aside for me. The chicken poop has already started heating the pile after watering it yesterday. All very hopeful, that it might burn down into something plant-able by spring. Adding to the hope a light drizzle has begun with rain expected through the afternoon and evening. Yeah I know chicken poop and compost are kinda out there on the garden nerd spectrum.   The rain is the perfect accompaniment to the blues on the stereo. The weather outside gray and more invigorating than cold. Inside a mug of tea and a combo of Fats Waller, Howlin' Wolf and best of all the Alligator Records' 20th Anniversary Collection. The enclosed notes in the Alligator two CD edition are the story of legends of the blues. The talent list is a powerhouse going from Pinet

   Just back from this year's frosty final farmers market. Johnny Cash and Chris LeDoux, are stacked up on the stereo with Dwight Yoakam twanging as I type. A cool and cloudy day outside. Way too much Halloween candy 'hidden' in the next room. The boys of October will be finishing their seasons with the World Series. The garden will stretch out a bit longer with all thoughts of too hot to work outside banished to the past. Our 1st winter lies ahead.  It's October in Oklahoma.  Our haul from the farmers market was an eclectic mix. Way too large a bag of hot peppers from a fellow selling honey. He clearly wanted to get home and gave us the whole lot for 2 bucks. A pretty little bench of local cedar from Curtis who was staying warm in his truck. Curtis is one of those interesting artisans that you see at farmers markets. Some of his pieces are not quite the thing and some well, catch your eye just right. Cooper was thrilled to see we didn't forget him with a knee bon

 Remember when California was this mythical land where everything was just better. I've got the Beach Boys on the stereo, sitting on the back patio on a cool sunny day a light breeze blowing. It rained last night and there are some mustard greens popping in the new raised bed. The large sparrow family is at the bird feeder and splashing in the baths. In short it's just another crappy day in Oklahoma.  It's funny isn't it no one thinks of Oklahoma... I was going to finish that sentence but really Oklahoma is on no one's list of about anything. OK, maybe a list of Meth problems, stray dogs, and tornadoes but nice things well I don't know maybe church women. Yet here I am enjoying an absolutely gorgeous day not a tornado in sight. Deb has just returned from one of the 41, or is it 51 churches here in our little town. She of course looks beautiful and has a smile of peace on her face. Cooper I have to mention is one of those strays that was 'saved' from Okl

  I'm hiding out! Ensconced in my mom's old comfy chair. Bag of pretzels and glass of water on the drum table to my side. Stereo playing a collection of familiar old jazz or at least that was the intention as I've managed to start the group off with THE BEST OF Sessions at west 54th. The 'Sessions' is a compilation from the PBS show of the same name. The artists are all class A the songs and the music as good as you could ask for. Like many compilations it's a bit uneven jumping from Sheryl Crow and Natalie Merchant to the Mavericks and Elvis Costello but that is not the fundamental problem. I want to hide out. Getz, Coltrane, Chet Baker deep jazz to get lost in, comfortable, old, smooth.   Too many good artist on the 'Sessions' to bump the stack to the next CD. I'll fluff the pillow behind my back, add ice to the water, and get rid of the damned pretzels. (Lord I can grind through them mindlessly!) In short I'll adjust and try to find the peac

  BeauSoleil is tapping out a fast paced rhythm. Buckwheat Zydeco and The Cajun Allstars will join in for a day of Cajun music to match the temperature. It's odd on a hot and humid day to hear such lively upbeat music. My only logic I can put to it is you don't pick up the fiddle or go to the Fais do-do till the work is done and the evening cool lets you cut loose.   Along that line of thought goes the 'garden'. An odd moment early in the morning or following an afternoon thunderstorm allows me to keep up with the general maintenance of a suburban yard, lawn and such. To really cut loose and garden will have to wait till the temperatures cools in the fall. I'm simply not acclimated yet. I have however started.   Nothing grand mind you but a start. Couple of days ago I finished mowing the lawn put the mower on the lowest setting and scalped a 35' x 7' section. With the thick black plastic pinned down on it, the hope is to use a bit of judo. The heat of July