The Burrow

The pod castle sent me flowers.  That was really backwards.  I usually treat them, to cookies or donuts or candies.  After all, they are looking after my mother and you never want to underpay or under-appreciate your babysitter , do you?  But there they were, sitting in the most visible-to-my-eye spot in my hospital room, the trendiest, raffia-wrapped bouquet in the place.  They made me smile. They also reminded me that G'ma was un-visited.  My family was at my bedside and I wasn't in the mood to share.  Amster dropped off Hershey's kisses for her at the pod castle and let the staff know that I hadn't forgotten my maternal unit, but it just wasn't the same as being there myself.  I had been dropping in at random times of the day, both because that's how my life was organized and to keep them on their toes.  If they didn't know when I was coming, G'ma would have to be tended 24/7.  And suddenly I was gone. I had a good reason, but sti...

Remember those pancakes at IHop?  The ones I ate while finishing The Footprints of God?  The smile on my face as I chowed-down was due, in no small part, to something that happened as I entered the restaurant.  Read on, denizens, and see what filled my heart.  Just another reason I love Tucson! *********************************************************** It was late and dark and cold.  I was alone.  I wasn't anxious about my safety, but I consciously chose a parking space close to the entrance, under a light pole and near a family group who were just exiting their car.  I took my time, not wanting to open my door into them.  I collected my wallet and my novel and closed the sunroof.  By the time I beep-locked The Schnozz my safety net people were approaching the door of the restaurant. There were 4 of them - an abuela, a mom and a teenaged boy and girl.  The kids were just a little bit more dressed up than is usual for Tucson teens....

(To FAMB and the rest of you who look for me at 9am each morning, I apologize.  Healing takes much more energy than I imagined, and I don't want to write something that won't be worth your time.  So, I will aim for a post every weekday, but I'm not going to hold myself to the timing.  You'll know I'm getting better when I'm back on schedule.  Til then, may I ask you to cut me some slack in the timeliness department?  Thanks, from your perforated friend.)  ********************************************************* I wonder..... did the AP call any of you and ask to sit on your couch and watch the speech together?  Welcome to my weird and wonderful world. I told the lovely woman on the other end of the phone that I was too tired by the end of the day to acquiesce to her most flattering invitation but that she could call back and ask me a question or two on the phone.  She did.  With the help of TBG and The Ballerina (who's come from Little Ro...

New to The Burrow and looking for my take on the events of  January 8th?  Read the previous few posts and you'll see where I am and how I'm feeling. For now, though, I need a break from the drama. Here is the post I planned to publish on January 10th   ************************************************************************************** I started that Greg Iles book yesterday.  You know, the one that's been lurking on my sidebar since before Christmas, the one that I knew I wouldn't be able to put down once I opened it.  I hadn't read the blurb on the inside cover; I knew I would love it no matter where he set the story or what the characters were doing.  And I did.  I brought it with me to the talk I led at the suburban library on Tasks in the Garden for January .  Arriving early, as usual, I thought I'd pass the time by teasing myself with a few opening pages.  But there was a patron, a listener, an audience member and he was sta...

That's the title of a book which lives in my nightstand.  A handy little tract, it was given to me as I started blogging.  It's full of good prompts and suggestions and the title has kept me humble, has forced me to dig just a little bit deeper, to, as Billy Collins says ...wash down the walls and scrub the floor of your study before composing a syllable.* But I am not so sure that this applies to me right now.  I have, by virtue of participating in the political process with an adorable 9 year old, been thrust from a comfortable anonymity into the glare of the public spotlight.  Nance, my Blog Friend Forever, heard the news of a shooting at a Congress on Your Corner event in Tucson and just knew that I was there.  She just knew.  She and her friend Susan U used their computers to triangulate the Safeway and the hospital and the address from the brownies I had sent her at Xmas and it became apparent to them that it was my neighborhood.  She left a mes...

JES and Nance and I have been talking on line for a while about how we could generate more visitors to our tiny but wonderful blogs.  Obviously, we've been creative and insightful and thoughtful as we email one another with suggestions and encouragements and I love your last post 's. "And then, damn girl, you go and get yourself shot." Let me say that there has got to be a less painful way to push your numbers into the 5-figures.  I'm not sure that there is an easier one, though. I'm sharing Sunday night's Dateline episode with Michael Douglas.  You know, the one married to Katherine Zeta-Jones, the one whose father played Vincent Van Gogh. This little girl has gone big-time. National news outlets are on TBG's speed dial..... or would be if he used speed dial.  They are certainly in his cell phone.  I have had lovely conversations with editors-in-chief who answer their own phones and who say of course when I ask if I might use ...

Dear Tucson, I love our town.  Don't you? My husband and my friends and some of my favorite nurses and I walked through the vigil garden outside UMC last night.  You might have seen me and my bright yellow socks on CNN, who were filming respectfully from a distance.  There are candles and flowers and butterflies and daisy chains and streamers and sculptures.  There are hand made drawings from little girls and grown men.  There are potted plants and bouquets wrapped in papers from California and Oklahoma and Yuma.  A violinist stands alone in the center of the field, playing to himself and sometimes leading others in song.  The mariachis asked permission to serenade us..... asked permission!.... as if anyone could refuse a love song.  The young man's voice rose high and sweet as the sun set and the guitarist strummed and the trumpeter blew 12 long low lovely notes that went straight from his muted instrument to my soul.  It was a physica...

I know that short Jewish girls from New York do get shot. I know that time does stand still. I know that my grandmother was right to remind me to wear nice underwear in case it had to be cut off me on the concrete in front of Safeway on a sunny Saturday morning. I know that total strangers will put themselves in danger to save the lives of others. I know that being a passenger in a med-evac helicopter is a very cool experience, and that I was right to turn my head and see my town spread out below me. I know that I am loved. I know that Gabby Giffords and I are married to very handsome very passionate very wonderful men. I know that pilates and yoga and strength training and aerobic exercise provide you with "remarkable bones" which can hold a host of pins and plates and other paraphernalia and I know that without my time in the gym my experience right now would be very different. I know that The Bride and Seret and MTF and Little Cuter and SIR will drop whatev...

Hi there Burrow faithful, Little Cuter here, with news on my amazing mom. As most of you probably know by now, my mom attended the Congress on your Corner event yesterday at her local Safeway. Just as she reached the front of the line to shake Ms. Gifford's hand a gunman appeared and began shooting with an automatic weapon. My mom was shot three times.  That's a sentence I never thought I'd have to type. Right this very minute my mom is in the ICU with her leg in a traction. She suffered a wound to her left chest, one to her abdomen, and a third to her right hip. She is incredibly lucky that none of her organs were hit, even though one of the bullet's entry wounds was in her abdomen. She has been taken care of by some fantastic and proficient doctors and nurses, and a wonderful social work team. My mom is the toughest broad I've ever met. She is awake and talking and cracking wise and we can all rest assured that the woman we love is still here, kicking ma...

Sometimes I'm glad that it's hard to fly directly to anywhere from Tucson.  The fact is that the least expensive and shortest-time-in-transit way to get from here to Washington, DC involves a change of planes at Midway airport.  Now, honestly, denizens, how could I change planes in their city and not say Hi to Little Cuter and SIR?  It would be impossible.  So I'm adding two days on to the front of my trip and I'll be in Chicago at the end of January. I have to pause a moment when I read that.  Most normal humans would leave Chicago and flee to Tucson at the end of January.  I lived in Chicago for 19 January's and I can tell you that it is not a pretty site.  Oh, sure, there is the occasional sunny day when the entire city is on the lakefront or in the zoo or playing dog frisbee in one of the gazillion parks.  But the reality is far starker.  Chicago in late winter is most often dark and dank and the snow is no longer white and...

I have visions of extension cords wrapped around light poles, dragging behind trunks, cluttering up storage space and generally making a nuisance of themselves.  Instead of smelling gas fumes for 2 minutes I see hundreds of people lined up, waiting to plug in and then waiting to charge.  Will Starbucks migrate to the Valero station?  After all, if it takes an hour or two to power up for the trip home, someone has to make money in that time frame.  It's the American Way. Automobile Magazine's Car of the Year is the Chevy Volt.  Yes, an American car.  Yes, a Chevrolet.  From the design staff and the engineering staff and the secretarial staff who drove and commented and submitted their ideas, the editorial staff decided that (I)t is genuinely an all-new car, in the most simplistic sense as well as in the greater notion that the Volt is unlike any vehicle we have ever driven.  Because it is sui generis, because it is taking the concept of the gr...

It's a puzzlement, really, sometimes. Everything is going along smoothly and then BAM! you're gob-smacked and reeling and you don't know what to do.  You're pulled one way, and you make your peace with it.  You see the reality for what it is and take a deep breath and move on.  Wake up in the morning and go on about your business and POW! there it is again, rearing its ugly head and snarling at you. What's a person to do? It's not only in the realm of personal relationships that this occurs.  We all have our own versions of the story and I'll let you fill in your own blanks today.  It's also true in the world of sports. I've been thinking about Nance's comment on yesterday's post, reprinted here for those of you un-inclined to click back and find it: The real stories in sports are the interpersonal stories based on the usual human depravities...on steroids. Games, optional.  She has a  point there.  For most of us, the casual fan, the...

We haven't talked sports for a while here in The Burrow.  I've taken the last month away from the worldly cares of politics and the economy and natural disasters while I've focused on the season.  I've baked and wrapped and written and decorated and, behind it all, there was usually a game on the tube.  To those of you who depend upon The Burrow for your sports news and information,  I apologize.  There have been many developments on the sports front, and I have been remiss in my duties.  That is about to change.  Read on for my personal sports highlights.  Those of you who don't care, come back tomorrow for something new and exciting.   ***** Professional football was a major snore this season.  Last year we watched the New Orleans Saints win their way to the Super Bowl and revive the spirits of a damaged city.  This year has been dominated by a 40something damaged quarterback who hasn't played all that much or all that well...

January is an odd month for a party.  It's cold and miserable or wet and slippery or sunny for the first time in ages ... you either don't want to go out to get there or you don't want to go inside to visit.  There's an awful lot of cleaning up to do before a party, and December being December, with its endless tchotchke possibilities, with visitors and packages and wrapping and baking and comings and goings, well, December is just a messy memory by the time January rolls around.  Hosting a party requires removing the flotsam and jetsam to less obvious locales and then repairing the damage to floors and windows and countertops.  It's all a bit overwhelming to me even without the knowledge that hungry hordes will be descending on my home.  I don't host parties in January. But I have some friends who have made a tradition of New Year's Day events.  One is celebrating his birthday with home made chili and every friend he's ever had.  When children were b...

I've known Joey Ellis from the day he was born. He's an upstate New York kid living and working as an artist in China. Seriously. He learned the language and found an apartment and was the first international student to graduate with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in sculpture from the prestigious Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing.  His parents are very proud. Now he is trying to save the coral reefs. Using art and video games and integrating local culture to save the world..... what an idea. No wonder he's also a TEDGlobal Fellow . I do know some very interesting people. Nance, over at Mature Landscaping , is wondering how we are going to reset our lives to have an impact on the world around us. Perhaps you'd like to get started by giving this project a try? It needs more funding within the next 4 days in order to be KickStart-ed. Check it out