The Burrow

Merl Reagle died last week. I am bereft. There will be no more of his crossword puzzles to make me groan.  He felt ill, went to the hospital, sent his wife home for his laptop and snacks, and was gone before she returned. They'd been together for years. She traveled with him and had breakfast with him and helped at his Tucson Festival of Books presentations and all the other presentations he made around the country and now he is no longer. She was a lovely presence, gifting me with $25 to a local bookstore when I won 4th place at the last TFOB.  She was solicitous and thoughtful and now, in the space of an errand, she is alone. I am so sorry for her loss. Her husband has been with me every night for a long time. TBG and I retire to the bedroom, put on our jammies, and while he turns on the television I open my current collection of Merl Reagle's puzzles.  The clues are challenging but manageable. The puns are smart and funny and awful.... just the ...

Again and again and again, I tell myself that I won't let it affect me. Over and over and over, I remind myself that I am safe. The words are futile; I'm terrified and angered and sad. Like a scummy film on the surface of a pond, gun violence blunts the shining sun, diffusing it and muddying it and making the world a scary place. Leaving the house wasn't easy this morning. Then, again, watching the television wasn't any easier. One of their own was shot down on a sunny morning and suddenly all those stories the anchors had been reporting over the years were no longer about the other – the victims were one of them. I watched the CNN correspondent try to hold back his tears as Alison Parker's father said that his soul was crushed. I listened as Ashleigh Banfield tried to make sense of the senseless, describing how Adam Ward's fiancee watched him die from the production studio... in real time. Just saying the words made them facts that smacked her ...

We got a mattress in a box today. It required unpacking and unwrapping and unfolding. There were instructions to be read. We've never had to read the instructions for a mattress before. We'd never watched the creation of a mattress before, either. Today was the day. The Sleep Number guys were right on time, in their Penske rental truck.   They lugged our old and well worn mattress out and toted their much lighter boxes in. Unwrapping the bladders and filling them with air  was the first, and longest, step.  I admit that I giggled. A lot.  When they were full, they were set aside to rest.  The tubes stay attached. They connect to this control box which sits underneath the platform. The soft bottom layer was smoothed onto that platform, and another, softer, gooshier layer went on top of that. The edges were built, side by individual side slipping into the pre-cut curves. A piece similar to the edge...

I was prepared to respond to Rain's comment on yesterday's post, but Skype and FlapJilly and Little Cuter derailed my plans.  I'm too filled with smiles to rain on my own parade. Besides, the clouds in the sky are doing a fine job of that right now, as we roar into monsoon, our fifth season.  The cacti are puffed up, filled with water, and the crepe myrtle refuses to stop blooming. All of that is wonderful, but it pales in comparison to the joy I take in watching my girls toss bags of oatmeal onto the kitchen floor. Her iPad was on the table, angled down to their play space on the floor, and I laughed along with them as the baby took the packets out of the box and flung them behind herself.  She has my daughter trained well; the bring-it-here-wench was right there when she was needed.  FlapJilly was never without more ammunition. They substituted for maracas, too.  One handed, two handed, then tossed on the floor.  Cue the giggles. She took a step a...

Donald Trump bloviated for an hour or so, and the talking heads agreed it was good political theater. There was nothing of substance, but there was a lot of us against them .  Politicians are bad.  Everyone in the stadium is good.  There are so many of us here and we are so happy to be here.  The world is going to hell in a hand basket, because I was not there to save it. Once I have the power, though, things will be different.   I'm going to build a wall and have Mexico pay for it.  I'll name it after ME. When he lost his train of thought, he turned to those seated behind him and took pleasure in their applause.  Turning around, the bigger crowd not to be undone, cheered even louder.  Then he started over again. It was stream of consciousness.  It was not prepared.  That worries me. I want a President who thinks that the words she shares are valuable. I want a thoughtful communicator.   I watched a rabble rou...

45 years. 44 cars... I think. 10 homes.... I'm pretty sure. Your friends.... my friends.... our friends. 2 kids.... 1 grandkid.... more friends. Losses and finding our way back and Hilepower and love. The hardest work I've ever been glad I've done. Is that hard to parse? Really? After listening to me for almost half a century? Happy 40th Anniversary of the day we said We Would. I'm in for 40 more, if you are.

Donald Trump thinks it's passion. Keep that in mind as I tell you a story. Two skinny white guys, not in hoodies this time but one in a wife-beater..... a descriptive term I forbid Big Cuter from using in my presence or the presence of anyone whose respect he wanted to earn.... a term that fits just perfectly right here..... Two white guys coming up from 'neath the streets of Boston, find a 58 year old Hispanic man asleep against the station wall...... and believing that it was OK to assault the man because he was Hispanic and homeless , they broke his nose, beat and kicked his head and body, and, before walking away laughing, they urinated on him. State Troopers followed concerned citizens' prompts and arrested the brothers, who defended their actions by invoking the man who is ahead of every other Republican and Hillary Clinton in polls in Florida : Donald Trump was right, all these illegals need to be deported. Trump seemed genuinely concerned when told th...

Colin Goddard was shot 4 times at Virginia Tech, by a student with an undiagnosed mental illness. Colin is now the Senior Policy Advocate at Everytown for Gun Safety . I love it when a tragedy turns into an employment opportunity.  I just wish this one didn't involve weaponry.  I really wish it didn't involve weaponry and education. Somehow, the NRA has a different perspective.  They have offered bills in 15 states - and were defeated 15 times.  Yet, they continue to insist that a well armed community can police itself and defend itself from terrorism. This, despite the fact that, as reported by the Sun Sentinel , that Florida A&M police chief Terence Calloway.... cited a 2009 poll of campus police chiefs that found just 5 percent supported the idea. And a 2014 study produced by Ball State University found similar opposition among college presidents, while polls of campuses throughout the country have regularly turned up student opposition in the 70 to 80...

I gasped aloud this morning, driving past my yard. I always enjoy the plantings, but this morning was different. The little leaf cordia was in bloom and a previously dull corner of my front yard, back there behind the orange Mexican Bird of Paradise, was covered in these bright white blossoms. The memory kept me smiling all day long, even though I didn't win a single game at mah jongg.  I could hardly wait to get home and take proper photos. The whole yard is blooming.   It's mostly orange. The Mexican Bird of Paradise competes with the barrel cacti  and wins for softness, if nothing else.  The flowers are at all stages on this one, from last year's empty stems to the closed dull orange buds, to the brighter ones opening (bottom left) to the dead brown remains of their siblings (at the top). I tried to photograph the ants  which were swarming over every inch of this beauty but my camera phone failed us.  I gave u...

A short rant, if you will oblige me this morning, denizens. This Lean In Project Bat Swing is interfering with my free time.  I'm beginning to become annoyed. I have two James Patterson books on loan from the library.  I have a baby blanket to crochet.  I have a wedding present to wrap and mail.  I have paperwork generated by the desk cleaning activity of last week's timeline activity. I'm feeling overwhelmed. The Professional Organizer I used in the past has moved to Phoenix; I have to begin to look again.  Does this mean that I can add a row to my timeline, moving everything back a week?  It occurred to Little Cuter, my partner in crime, at the same time it occurred to me - her list consists of sign up, learn, use, sign up, learn, use while mine is read and take action, read and take action, read and.... well, you get the picture. I have to go through my old posts. I have to describe my audience before I can begin to write (thanks, Brenda Sta...

Brenda Starr and I had breakfast with others this morning. Not our husbands; we left them home so that we could catch up on that which fascinates us but bores them. Not with friends, although friendliness was the order of the day. Just she and I and the Tohono O'odham families we didn't know before we sat down but with whom we bonded over popovers and chile and children. I'm rarely the other, at least when considering identity.  This morning, in a restaurant owned and operated by a Tohono O'odham family, I was separate, yet still a part.  Old age is a great leveler, and no matter the color of your skin or your gender or your language, creaking joints are creaking joints. We form a community of our own without asking for a membership card. That was certainly true this morning, as we joined the already seated couples of a certain age, they and I all wearing our wrinkles with pride.  Brenda Starr smiled at me smiling. There was nothing shy or retiring abo...

FlapJilly is quite proud of herself. I think you have to be a 1 year old to believe with all your heart that you are the center of everyone's universe.  By the time you hit 2, you've figured it out a bit more, you're noticing that others have needs, too, and that often those needs will be met before yours.  But right now, FlapJilly is convinced that she is the axis about which the world revolves.   She giggles, and the world she knows giggles, too.  And in those giggles are love and wonder and amazement.... but mostly, there is joy. She's quite proud of her newest accomplishment - brushing her own teeth. Mommy is excited so FlapJilly is excited which makers Mommy even more excited.... and so it goes. Little Cuter's first inclination was to ask the baby to hold still so Mommy can finish brushing. She moved on to brushing her own teeth might be within FlapJilly's repertoire of behaviors, which led to all these smiles and giggles and to...

Bernie Sanders is leading Hillary Clinton in New Hampshire 44% to 27%, according to NBC's Nightly News.  His big ole smiling face was there, next to his refusal to engage in character assassination: he likes Hillary Clinton; he disagrees with Hillary Clinton on several important issues; he'll be talking about those issues from now on. Did you just feel a breath of fresh air blow through the political theater? Meanwhile, on the clown car, Donald Trump's only problem seems to be that he's not growing his lead to match the pundits' expectations.  This reminds me of stock analysts blaming a company for not meeting the analysts' own predictions; might the predictions themselves have been faulty?  Mr. Trump is still scaring me, not because of what he says, but because there are people out there believing him. Are you shivering in fear yet? All that led me to this: Bernie vs The Donald... coming to you live in 2016!  

Little Cuter and I have our own Lean In circle.  Instead of wondering why the other is not pursuing her dream, SIR suggested (and we agreed) that we should push instead of kvetch. She'll start a new business.  I'll write a book. There.  I've said it out loud and now I've written it for all the world to see. I don't have a problem stepping up to the plate, I told the kids.  It's taking action that stymies me. They looked at one another and said Project Bat Swing .  And so Project Bat Swing it is. Little Cuter took the bull by the horn and began, that night, after several cocktails, to outline her plan of action.  I began to hyperventilate.  She had obviously given much more thought to the ins and outs of moving forward than I had.  When she said that her timeline would be ready by the following Friday, I panicked. It's the first week of school.  I have GRIN  stuff to do.  I can't start out behind, I moaned. The whining wa...

In the never ending saga of the left eating its young, a Progressive conference hosting Bernie Sanders was interrupted by activists under the aegis of  #BlackLivesMatter, Seattle chapter.  They were peeved with Bernie for the way he handled #BlackLivesMatter activists last month at Netroots' conference in Phoenix. Their point is that, although pursuing economic justice is a worthy goal, black folks are worrying about more basic things - the safety of themselves and their children in a culture of systemic racism, the consequences of which are meted out by those blessed with white privilege. It's not an easy thing to consider, especially if you, as I, have thought we've been on a path toward a post-racial America.  We have an African-American POTUS.  Religion, race, country of origin don't seem to figure into the descriptions my children provide of their friends and acquaintances, at least in the same way that they did in my day. Ben Carson's race was never m...

Old Friends have just joined the Grandparents Club, and everyone is ecstatic.  FlapJilly is keeping the beat in her Daddy's arms, and Little Cuter is over the moon.  Fast Eddie and JannyLou are about to escort a granddaughter to college, with equal measures of pride and exhaustion. I needed a kid of my own who was available for hugging.  It's a good thing Mr. 10 was of a similar mind, having informed his mother that he was in need of his own special time with me.  She brokered the arrangements, paid for lunch, and chauffeured us around town, content to let us have our fun, as long as she didn't have to follow us around the fabric stores. That was just fine with us.  We were on a roll, and we weren't letting a little thing like being unable to purchase the fabric we wanted at WalMart because there was no one who could cut it for us... and NO, we were not to cut it ourselves..... get in our way.  We were on a mission. JoAnn's Fabrics came to our rescue,...

The clown car pulled up to the same arena in which LeBron works his magic, discharging 17 contestants for Republican-Candidate-For-President.  The bottom seven spoke earlier in the day; I was out having fun. Now I am on Douglas the couch, having a different kind of fun.  It's starting out to be so awful that it's wonderful, like a 3 Stooges pratfall. ***** The pre-game show is embarrassing, but that might be due to my unfamiliarity with the Fox news team.  The qualifications of the men on the stage were attacked from the beginning, and I am impressed for the first time (and, it turns out not the last time) with the toughness of the questions.  The men were put on the spot from the first.  Donald Trump refused to pledge support for the eventual nominee nor would he rule out running as a third party candidate. Ben Carson's inability to recognize Alan Greenspan or NATO members was the second question.  He's a thoughtful man, a smart man, who had me on h...

All I wanted to do was watch Netflix.  The television had other ideas. I remember when it was set up.  The lovely gentlemen went through the mechanics of the system, trying to make it as user friendly as they could.  As I recall, they were unable to have everything labeled clearly enough for me; HDMI doesn't mean much to my feeble brain, yet that is what scrolled across the top of the screen. I chose one and clicked.  Nothing has been the same since. There are messages which say Choose SOURCE on your remote .... and I use the plural because the damn thing keeps popping up on the screen.... over and over and over again.  I'd be happy as a clam if I could do that, but there is not a single button labeled SOURCE on any of the remotes littering my coffee table. There are input buttons.  There are set up buttons.  There are menu buttons.  There are no source buttons.  Believe me, I've looked. Everywhere.  I've cleaned the devices a...