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Ain't nothin' nobody could do about it!

I don't know! Really, I don't know! My tomato starts are horribly small. That may be a comparative thing having seen the size and vigor of the local farm stores $1 tomato plants. Additionally, the local Master Gardener's sale is coming up, again, $1 beautiful plants. I've tried over the years to be more self-sufficient by growing and even selling my own starts along with growing heirloom varieties so the seeds would be true to type. I blame the soil for my lousy starts but.... In my Denver garden I was able to simply fill pots with some of my compost add the seeds and cover them with a 1/4 inch of commercial organic seed starting mix. Since moving   here I've been busy terracing the south-side of our house with raised beds and filling them with anything that vaguely resembled soil. When time came to start seeds there wasn't even a smidge of half finished compost to be had. Yup, I admit it I bought a bag of that crap they sell at Lowes. Or in my best Clintonesque...
Recent posts

What's in the water?

  Walking in Memphis by Marc Cohn is to my mind among the finest pieces of music and evocative songs ever created. It's playing on the stereo as I begin typing. A mellow start to a day that began way too abrupt and early. You can't startle awake at 4 am on Valentines Day, crank the stereo and start banging pans in the kitchen. Thus I grabbed the dogs and went for a good long walk in the light mist and predawn street lights. Peaceful!   Less peaceful has been the world in which we live. You can make up a litany, as good as I can, of world events that by themselves would be the talk of the proverbial water cooler. Lately a scan of my various electronic water cooler stories have been something of a tsunami. I think it's a time to step back.   As a person who has long expected a zombie apocalypse I have to say I think we are in the storm now, at least the financial and political pieces of that expectation. I don't think the nature of this time in the storm makes it possibl...

Ah, but I knew his voice!

   I had never met Michael Cloud in person. I was waiting for him, beside the Harry Browne for President table at the Colorado Libertarian convention. While I waited I neatly fanned out the brochures and other material Michael had sent. A short ugly little man started to rifle the items on the table. As the only volunteer near enough to protect these items I stepped forward and challenged him with a "HI!" Just to let him know he was being watched. It was of course Michael.    Michael is a world class salesman, a beautiful human, and a fine looking man. Yeah, like many of us he packed himself a knapsack full of rocks to carry on this march through life. Of course, who but a masochist would create for themselves the job of teaching Libertarians to "let the nice people take the brochures - we're trying to give away"! I credit Michael, Joe Johnson and a few other wise souls with teaching me to sometimes, just sometimes, shut up and take yes for an answer.    L...

Candace Owens and The Clash walk into a rationalization....

   I started this morning in the usual way and the not usual way. Yeah I walked the dogs. Well actually the dog, just Cooper. Carrie, our youngest, was quite clear she didn't want to go. It was cold so hopefully that was it. Could have been, heck, I don't know! Coop and I had a nice normal walk around the neighborhood. Him marking everything and me picking up trash. Yesterday's wind had blown quite a bit into the woods along our path. I long ago decided that seeing trash on my walks harshes my mellow. As I go similar routes on my walks with the dogs, if I leave the trash there it will be there tomorrow and again and again. Picking it up is a minor hassle but future me will be happier.   In addition to figuring this bit out about happiness I had a thought about what I'll have to call cause and effect. That's not the exact phrase but it will do for now! The wind causes trash to blow but cause and effect has something of a backflow valve intrinsic to it. More exactly m...

More cake and Christmas treats

  In the forward to his book TALKING TO THE MOON, John Joseph Mathews' widow describes the book as his Walden. I wouldn't know as every time I tried to read Walden I gave up. Too dense, too deep, too flowery and poetic to read. Perhaps I'll have to try again as this morning I finished Mathews' book about the Osage. At about 5 this morning alone in the family room reading the penultimate chapter, I got it. Mathews had made me struggle for literal weeks on end through enough renewals that I was sure the library was going to say - no more! I struggled both because there were bits of prose that were inspired but also out of a sense of duty. You should know about where you live. A native seed sprouts when the time is right. I've transplanted myself to NE Oklahoma, the Osage, and thus have to dig a hole for my roots. With a little nurturing and time I'll grow beyond that hole.   I thought it appropriate that I "got it" and finished as a storm wa...

Why Santa is fat, jolly and finished in one night!

    There is a fog outside with something approaching rain falling. The soft gauzie nature of fog makes the world quiet, mysterious and beautiful. I'll take the dogs in a bit on our morning walk and enjoy that beauty but first to write. It's odd but I didn't notice either the rain or the fog till the sun was solidly up and Deb pointed it out. I was instead thinking how it gets dark so early and the sun rises so late. I lamented, how could it be that moving almost a whole garden zone closer to the equator and away from the towering Rockies to the west the sun could rise so late? Ah fog, hadn't thought of that!   Ain't that life! There you are plumbing the deepest mysteries only to realize you forgot to carry the 1. While sipping my coffee and contemplating the darkness YouTube granted some distraction by offering up a Buddhist philosophy video. Sadly, it was likely AI generated, as so much of the content is these days. I was only half listening but in about the 4th r...

Garden gets a C+ shows potential, but must live up to that potential!

 It had to be about the smallest pear I've ever eaten, about 3 inches from nose to butt. It was delicious, a harbinger of things to come. I shared it with Deb. A nibble each.  Our pear trees are about 2 years in the ground with us. One has struggled since it's arrival in the mail, a bit of a runt from Stark Bros. The other has progressed nicely but still I wasn't expecting fruit this year. In August half of the healthiest tree decided it was spring and time to bloom. I laughed at it's youthful confusion and admired the beautiful flowers. When I saw the tiny yellow Bartlett the other day I was impressed but knew not to expect much. First fruit on a tree can tend to be unflavored or even bitter. Nope this little guy was ripe and ready!  When I last wrote I was awaiting a storm and wondering how much of the garden to pick or lose. The storm came the storm went. The weather was beautiful fall weather and last week or so was a week of rain. This weekend threatens a light fre...