The Burrow

Since I'm still vacationing on the right coast, I'm taking the easy way out and reprising last year's Memorial Day post.  Happy Three Day Weekend!! ***** I used to march in the Memorial Day parade. I was dressed in my Brownie uniform, and then in my Girl Scout uniform - replete with those hated anklets. I wore them because they said you couldn't march without them and marching was too cool to pass up, but the shame............ All the school bands marched too, and Benjamin Road provided the materials and the labor to make the capes the high school kids wore. There must have been a military presence there, but I didn't pay enough attention to notice. I was marching and I knew that, all over America, other kids were being Americans and marching, too. It was great. In Marin, the Memorial Day parade was always good for a controversy or two. Or three. Should the anti-war protesters walk alphabetically in the main march, or have their own march, or walk 50 yards b...

I'm right, yet I feel guilty. Long time readers may remember the saga of my computer purchase from hell. As a refresher for those who don't want to revisit the past, here's the brief version: After three years of obsessing, I found the perfect desktop computer and I ordered it for my birthday. It arrived late and did not work. Right out of the box, Dell had me removing the back panel and shaking and replacing components. After 2 hours, they agreed to take it back and send me a new one. The new one arrived several weeks later, and, once again, it did not perform as promised. After much angst, Dell's solution was to send me a new motherboard which I “could very easily install in the tower.” At that point, I had had enough. Who wants a new car with a replacement engine? I didn't buy a refurbished computer, I bought a new one. It was my birthday present after all, and I wanted it to be special. I decided that I wanted to return the machine; I'd pay the...

One of the nicest things about being married is that you gain a whole new set of relatives.  Although some are stranger than strange, some are more wonderful than anyone you've ever met before.  TBG's first cousin's daughter's husband is just such a man.  He's a pianist who performs and teaches and shares the joy.  Today's vacation piece is one of his students, Jidong Zhong, playing the Chopin Polonaise Fantasy, Pt. 1. Jidong Zhong took first place in the 2010 Gottlieb Memorial Piano Competition, sponsored by the Maryland State Music Teachers Association.  I watched him make love to the piano and finally understood what it meant to "call forth music from the instrument". I hope it makes you smile as much as I did.

I have a 7:30am flight today. Tucson to Houston to Charlotte and MTF .   My visit to My True Friend has morphed into a mini- reunion of the Class of 1969.  The girls who were sweet in high school are still sweet as adults, and two of them are joining us for a visit to the Carolinas.  I've packed for 6 days in the Little Cuter's soccer bag; sundresses roll up into teeny tiny little balls and flip flops aren't much bigger.  Traveling light, that's me.  I can't promise to have time to write every afternoon, so I'm scheduling some things I've found in the ether.  MTF is a doer and I fear my time to reflect and report will be constrained by the walking and talking and seeing and shopping and viewing and being.  Enjoy the holiday weekend. I know I will.  ***** I'm pretty sure I won't see anything this cool today.  The music is pretty nice, too.   

The Wall Street Journal is my "paper of record" these days.  I succumbed to TBG's railing against the New York Times' liberal bias several years ago and canceled my subscription.  But the San Fransisco Chronicle just didn't make the cut as a purveyor of news; we quickly adopted its local nickname: The Comical.  Unwilling to give up newsprint in the morning, I entered into a long term relationship with the WSJ.  It's been a happy commingling of disparate points of view.  I'm reading the source material for what used to pass as conservative dialogue and I'm happily arguing with them in my head over oatmeal and skim milk. The Opinion page is my favorite part (though I do love the little articles below the fold on the first page: seating for airport waiting areas... "Lost"'s foam set decorations... England's tax policies in 1530..... and that's just this week).  Every once in a while, there's an article on finance which I can un...

C.T. celebrated her First Communion on Sunday.   I'm not sure of the religious significance of the event, beyond knowing that it takes place during a Catholic Mass.  Her parents invited us to share in the luncheon which followed, but spared us the church service.  We'd have attended, but being averse to formal religion and any activity which requires prolonged sitting on armless seats, we were not unhappy with the "party only" invitation. She looked resplendent in her white satin dress.  Her tiara sparkled amidst her curls until the pressure on her cranium sent the jewels into mom's purse.  It was a small affair, with two tables of grown-ups and one for the kids.  What to do with the high school sophomore, sister of CT's playmate and baby-sitter extraordinaire? She had the dubious honor of sitting at the kids' table.  It was a well-behaved crowd (save for a little bit of spitting over the side of the balcony ..... into the wind... showing poor ju...

I received an email from "The March of the Monahans". It rang no bells in my head, though it sounded vaguely Tea Party-ish.  My spam filter is generally pretty good, so I tried to recall if I'd joined a Facebook group or followed a link while researching something else but I came up empty.  Even after reading the main text and glancing at the links, I can't remember how I got on their distribution list.  But it's sparked this post, so I suppose I should be grateful. Corporate Personhood seems to be the basis of the trek these brothers are making across the USofA.  They are trying to drum up support to amend the Constitution to end corporate personhood, saying that the Supreme Court  " made people second class citizens to corporations." I've been trying to understand the nuances of the phrase. Knowing 2 law mavens (one retired, one studying) I have access to some fine legal thinking.  The issue has been dissected in the Wall Street Journal and t...

I'm still stuck on stages .  (Click to read yesterday's explanatory post) I've been walking around all day getting used to the idea that G'ma is not demented (I know that) nor deteriorating (I know that) but that she's also not the same woman she was in her previous stage.  As the wonderful Occupational Therapist at the rehab hospital told me: my old mother is gone, but this new one is pretty cool. That other woman was independent, judgmental and always there when I needed her.  At this new point in her life, she's still judgmental and emotionally available but she's also less controlling.  I think it's a consequence of not being able to recapture events gone by; it's awfully hard to assert your will if you have no memory of the conversation in which you expressed your opinion.  I've been working on the notion that this isn't disease or disability but merely another stage, complete with its own peculiar joys and challenges.  On a certai...

I smiled when I heard someone refer to the terrible twos this week.  They never felt any more terrible to me than the threes or the fours or the twelves.  They were just different. I've always thought that the changes in the first year of a baby's life are so dramatic and so plentiful that parents miss the forest for the trees.  There's so much to notice and to which you must adjust and the changes are so rapid that you hardly have a chance to catch your breath.  First you have to remember to support their heads, then they're crying, then they're not sleeping, then they are learning to eat, then they are noticing that you're leaving and you're so wrapped up in the differences that you lose track of the gestalt. It's hard to see the growth as a series of stages when you are living it and it's happening so fast.  But somewhere around 24 months things seem to slow down.  The stages being to lengthen and last forever.  It's an illusion, really.  T...

I spent the afternoon with other people's children. I met Mr. 6 in the courtyard of his magnet school, where he informed me that we didn't have to say good-bye to his teacher and that he wanted to go to Frost.  We collected Mr. 4 and his 2 Leggo guys from the Montessori school and he thought that ice cream was a pretty good idea, too..  As we approached the storefront I asked "Who is going to hold the door for me?" and they both ran toward the handle screeching "I will" "I will."  A mom dining al fresco with her daughter told me how polite they were and I beamed.  So did the boys, who were rewarded with gumballs on their gelato and a dime each for opening the door (5cents) and for having someone compliment their actions (5cents). Yes, I bribe them.  Look at it this way: it's Make your bed and Mommy will love you versus Mommy loves you.  Make your bed and you'll earn a quarter.   A behaviorist by training and a parent by plan, I quickly ...

The heat has arrived and we're all wilting.  My hanging basket of nemesia and a pretty purple trailing vine whose name escapes me keeled over within the space of an afternoon and was unable to be revived.  There was nothing to save so I started over again with CT's extra flowers (she chose them, Dad paid for them, and these didn't fit in their beds).  I've never planted portulaca before.  I've never had any luck with lobelia.  They were both a part of CT's donation, though, so into the coir liner they went.  This time, I'm putting the coir inside a plastic pot, hoping for greater structural integrity than is usually afforded by the coir alone.  There's nothing worth photographing yet, but at least they are not dead. ***** The Cavs are out of the playoffs and TBG is adrift.  He should have been watching LeBron this afternoon instead of napping through the Celtics/Orlando game.  For a while, he was very proud to be from Cleveland..... ***...

Apparently, the Little Cuter had an adventure on the way to work today.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did: Don ’ t even get me started on this day …    Three full buses pass my stop before I can get on It is pouring rain and thundering I ’ ve left my rain boots at work I have squishy feet I finally get on the fourth bus that comes by our stop It is still pouring rain There is bumper to bumper traffic on LSD What ’ s that? Why did the lights go out on the bus? Oh … because the bus DIED Hey look! He ’ s trying to start the bus up again IN THE MIDDLE OF LAKE SHORE DRIVE The bus is working again! Wait What ’ s that? Are we coasting? Where did the engine noise go? We DIED? AGAIN!? Where are the lights? What are we going to do? Oh, we ’ re going to wait for another bus? What time is it now? 8:20? What time did I leave my apartment and begin waiting for the bus? 7:35? Oh, you want us to WALK ACROSS LAKE SHORE DRIVE TO GET ON ANOTHER BUS? IN THE POURING ...

It's just a little bit cooler today, and the fauna are taking advantage of it. The photos may not be as wonderful as those I usually post (yes, I am patting myself on the back) but catching wildlife in the wild requires a better camera than the proceeds of this blog (to date, $0 of income) afford.  So, look at what I encountered this week: These Gambel's Quail ( Callipepla gambelii) are all over the neighborhood.  They travel in family groups when the eggs hatch.  For now, they are foraging for sweet creatures living in and around the flora.  This one sat on the window sill and refused to move away from the screen so that I could get a clear picture.  My desk abuts this window; I'm typing 3 feet from this bird. I saw this coyote as I finished photographing my avian friend and looked out toward the road. Prior experiences have taught me that I have to go outside and try to snap the picture as the beast traverses my property.  Someday I'll...

How do you know that the person to whom you are talking is the person she claims to be?  If you've never interacted in a face-to-face situation, how do you know that it is she when there's a woman standing in front of you claiming her identity?   We were watching an impressively bright print of 1938's The Adventures of Robin Hood as the unknown traveler declared his kingly-ness by opening his robe, thus revealing his royal coat of arms.  There were no newspapers or televisions or portrait galleries in Norman vs Saxon times, so how did Robin and his merry men know that the garments had not been stolen?  The second time Richard pulls that stunt Claude Rains cries as his coronation is interrupted " It's an impostor!"  It is not an altogether unreasonable assumption. Talk about cheering for laundry... ***** Dallas Braden pitched a perfect game.  In baseball, that means 27 batters up to the plate, 27 batters retired.  No one sets a foot on base....

The weed has become a flower, although a short-lived and scruffy one. It's hot at 6:30 in the morning as I'm watering the few new plants I installed in February. My upgraded irrigation system is doing its part to keep things thriving, but I'm regretting stopping the project before I'd finished finding the line.  The ground is baked caked solid; the only softness is from the hollowing out of burrows by ground squirrels and others who use my front yard as a rooftop parking garage and observation post.  The small trowel is no longer up to the task, and using anything larger runs the risk of breaking the line while employing my massive strength to break through.  Precision work is hard to achieve while using a pickaxe. We have had cloudless windy days just shy of triple digits this week.  Yesterday, the sun felt a lot stronger and the breeze was stirring up the pollen drooling off the palo verdes and the world's fattest bee was gorging on the blossoms before joini...

The sun was out when I brought in the newspaper this morning.  I don't remember it ever raining on Mothers' Day.  We did the same things every year and I never remember dodging raindrops to follow the plan.  I suppose we went to visit our grandparents, just as we did every single Sunday, but those memories aren't as well available as are our immediate family's routine.  It was Mother's Day (where does that apostrophe belong, I wonder?) and that meant florist, bakery, breakfast on a tray and hugs in her bed.   The memory makes me smile. And now, 5 decades later, I am older than she was when those memories were created.  She's living with strangers (nice strangers, but strangers nonetheless) and I have to drive to bring her flowers and watch her eat her breakfast in bed.  She's reread her card twice since I've been here, and been surprised and delighted each time.  When I apologized for forgetting her traditional gardenia corsage for the seco...

Dear Readers, I live with a recovering investment professional.  Days like today remind me why I am glad that he is a retired person.  I am going to expound on the situation, and hope that you don't decide it's boring or too complicated and click away.  I'll add parentheticals and italicizations (have I just coined another word?) and try to make it as plain as I can.  But I was laughing so hard by the close of business today that I just had to share the joy.  a/b *****  Procter and Gamble's stock took a little tumble towards the end of trading today.  http://finance.yahoo.com/q?s=PG As the graph so eloquently depicts, something happened at 2:4opm. There it was, tooling along in the area of $60 a share when suddenly there was a trade at $39. A trade = a buyer and a seller. Almost immediately, the entire market followed suit. http://www.marketwatch.com/story/us-stocks-end-lower-after-nightmarish-day-2010-05-06?dist=afterbell The lines repre...