small gardens & small government

   I think there are 3 major reasons to get out of bed in the morning. Our cat (Maisie) demonstrated the 3rd, fear. The storm last night gave us some cool relief and an open bedroom window. A close clap of thunder from the storm sent Maisie from warmly snuggling with Deb to rocketing out of the room. She used my, thankfully closed, eye as a launching pad from the bed to the door. I'm just glad 80# Cooper doesn't sleep on the bed!   The #1 reason I get up in the morning I'll leave to your imagination. #2 is hope, excitement, I get to, or any of a thousand other names for having a purpose for the day. Sure the purpose can be as contrived as I've gotta walk the dogs or I gotta check see if there is a mouse in the live trap. If before my feet touch the floor I can change that "gotta" into "I get to..." it's usually a good day.   In money matters purpose or motivation is usually boiled down to an essence of fear or greed. With fear considered to be...

  In my blog yesterday I felt I hadn't pulled the thread completely. If you're like me a dangling thread can make you quite crazy.   I just put a Butter Rum Lifesaver in my mouth and I promise I will finish typing before it is done.    The war in Gaza bothers me immensely. I don't pretend to understand the nuances of the conflict and perhaps I don't have to. Ignorance is ignorance but sometimes layer upon layer of knowledge only serves to obscure the more basic question. I guess that is what I was trying to express in the blog. I will say plainly I do not wish my taxes to go to Israel. Perhaps that made sense at a point in time. That time has, for me, passed.   I just bit the last delicious bit of the Butter Rum and thus will honor my pledge. I will acknowledge the Buddhist thoughts on suffering. I will also remember a small group of Quakers who would regularly gather to protest that their taxes were being spent for the "Defense budget". Finally, I will also ...

   Carrie, our blue healer/rat terrier, will not be getting her Buddhist wings anytime soon. This morning while I was digging in the garden she did also. I got peas planted she got the mouse. The mouse was likely the one that ate a perfect little hole into the hidden backside of one of the canary melons. He ate all the seeds inside and when I picked it, it looked like a cute yellow birdhouse. Mouse eats seeds, dog eats mouse, I'm going with 'circle of life'. 'sides I was in no position to argue morality as I went on to use a little vacuum to suck up squash bugs.    The canary melons had basically all ripened at once. This meant, along with the watermelons, our every meal has melon. Deb and I brought some to the neighbors - and I guess for a while the mouse. See, I share! We Libertarians get a bad rep. The other thing all ripening at once meant was a spot in the garden was open.    Territory is not to be wasted in the garden. I shared last blog how the potat...

     The two most important things in making pesto are, get a food processor and don't get caught licking the bowl. I'm trying to take the high road here. You know the one about it's not what happens to you but your reaction that matters. It's been a hot and humid spring into summer and August is days away. I might go down hugging my air conditioner but damn it, I will adapt. I don't have to have the shower 1st thing in the morning. I can get up earlier and nibble at the garden work. And yeah, cutting and freezing onions and making pesto aren't technically garden work. They are however garden adjacent, do need to be done and importantly inside work.    Don't get me wrong. I am the luckiest man in the world and a piece of that is my garden. Even if I chose to move that garden a zone further south and a million percent higher humidity. I will adapt and acclimate. It just takes time. 'sides no matter where you live you're always making pesto in hot weat...

 It probably depends on how you define 'the apocalypse'. It was a brief walk with the dogs this morning. Cooper's shoulder seemed to be bugging him a couple of days ago - so light duty for all! Thus I had simply slipped on a pair of garden Crocks and headed out. While Cooper & Carrie sniffed and peed on a mailbox my mind wandered to it being Friday the 13th, Riots planned for Trump's birthday, and Israel's attack on Iran. If a nuclear bomb landed on Tulsa could I really run in Crocks? Would there be time to change into my serious hiking shoes with the arch supports? What about the the shorts? - Do you wanna be the guy in the Mickey Mouse tee shirt, shorts and Crocks describing to the reporter gal "Well I was walking the dogs and just over those trees there I saw the mushroom cloud and I said to myself, guys, I don't think that's rain!" Heck no you wanna be the guy in camo, minimum. Preferably with the fully loaded Jeep, solar water still and g...

  As I slowed for the stoplight on the 4 lane I was inspired. The gym had been drudgery. To be done and now done. The library didn't have the book I was looking for but I grabbed some others. But there, there at the edge of the lane, making one of those comical steps that turtles make, was a small turtle raising his foot to triumphantly step on the white finish-line. I broke into a smile sharing in his Olympic moment. As traffic started to move I thought about jumping out to move him to the grass on the shoulder. But would that confuse him and cause him to turn around?! I looked in the mirror as I drove away. No one was being an idiot and driving over the line. The little guy was trudging off no fist pumps or premature celebrations for him just steady doing it. Me, I drove the rest of the way home smiling and thinking Yeah, just yeah!  This morning he came by the house. Or at least I think it was him, tough to tell with turtles. I did the math we're a good bit from the proverb...