The Burrow

Here's to  and and May it be all that you want it to be, an d then some! Wishing all good things  to all of you in the new year.

 The moon and Venus through the clouds as I was grilling for Queen T

Grilling dinner, watching the sliver of moon over the mesquite.

New shoes.  New Socks.  New pants.  New hip.  Enjoying the late afternoon sunshine on Christmas day.

I'm going to pretend that I have a real job and I'm taking a real vacation.  There will be pictures, though, so you don't forget me. ***** As Queen T noted, it looks better the further away you step.

This was first posted in 2009, when The Burrow was eight months old.  I still haven't found anything I like better to replace it. I give you, today, my all-time favorite Xmas carol, courtesy of Walt Kelly and Pogo. Sing loudly and lustily to the tune of  Deck the Halls..... Deck us all with Boston Charlie, Walla Walla, Wash., an' Kalamazoo! Nora's freezin' on the trolley, Swaller dollar cauliflower alley-garoo! Don't we know archaic barrel Lullaby Lilla Boy, Louisville Lou? Trolley Molly don't love Harold, Boola boola Pensacoola hullabaloo! Bark us all bow-wows of folly,   Polly wolly cracker 'n' too-da-loo!   Donkey Bonny brays a carol,   Antelope Cantaloupe, 'lope with you! Hunky Dory's pop is lolly gaggin' on the wagon, Willy, folly go through! Chollie's collie barks at Barrow, Harum scarum five alarm bung-a-loo! Dunk us all in bowls of barley,   Hinky dinky dink an' polly voo!   Chilly Filly's name is Chollie,   Chollie Filly...

I had the best of intentions, but the allure was too strong.  I spent part of last night and this morning reading the 154 pages of teh Jan 6th Committee's Executive Summary. 154 pages seems like a lot to be called a Summary, but I tackled it anyway.   I will spare you the chore of reading it yourself by excerpting some of the highlights from the first 60 some pages.  This should get you through any water cooler conversations that might crop up this week.... if you can get past his taxes and Zelenskyy and the debt ceiling. (Quotes from the Summary are in italics; the numbers following the quotes refer to the footnotes/documentation)) ***** Who were these people who thought that storming the Capitol was the right thing to do?  Here's an answer: 12 • Lewis Cantwell testified: If “the President of the United States … [is] out on TV telling the world that it was stolen, what else would I believe, as a patriotic American who voted for him and wants to continue to see ...

The tree is still unclothed, although TBG and I are hatching a plot to light it and put it outside the living room window if all else fails.  The kids wanted a real tree.  I remind them that everything they put on they have to take off.  Somehow, that does not seem to deter them. Left to my own devices, I'd stick to the candles and Santa pillows. We've got Hanukkah on the gas fireplace hearth..... .... someday to be a fusion fireplace hearth?.... with candles bought in Safad, Israel, with us in mind.   The mail brings me love from Evanston and Belvedere.  Neighbors ring the bell with treats. Amid all this wonderfulness, I'm having a hard time writing anything about the fact that a Congressional committee just sent criminal referrals regarding the former Chief Executive to the Department of Justice.  Instead, I'm going to send you to Rachel Maddow's podcast, Ultra .  She tells a story, over eight episodes, that i...

Big Cuter and Queen T and LiLou, our grandpig,  are visiting for a month.   My house is full. My heart is full.  My plate is full, too.  I've wrapped what needs to be wrapped.  I've mailed most of what must be mailed.  I've baked most of what must be baked.  And yet,  little pieces I've forgotten keep creeping up.  It's annoying.  It's frustrating.  And,  ultimately,  it's funny.  More people to love. More joy to dispense.   And a tree that's here,  but unclothed.  It's bought and paid for.  It was driven home on top of The Uv,  with Queen T keeping it there by holding the tree stand through the sun roof. It was a long 4 mile drive home; I wish the church youth group 1 mile away had opened their shop again this year.  We still have a lot to do.  I've given Queen T my desk so she can work from home.  I need to set myself up so that I can do the same.  B...

  And Happy Chanukah Feel free to add n's and h's and c's and k's as you wish. It's really spelled like this:   צ'ג אורים סמח

The day has gotten away from me.  I've been productive at home and abroad, connecting near and far, with merchants and civil servants and automated devices.  My children have checked in and all is well in every corner of the universe, with many new facts and features to be admired and adored.   I've heard, at the periphery of my day, that there are going to be...... and have been trying to avoid the rampant speculation that keeps the talking heads occupied and amps up my adrenaline in all sorts of unpleasant ways.  Nope, not going there at all.  Today I did all manner of things, none of which took much time individually but all of which added up to it being dinnertime.  I wrapped and shipped and delivered.  I spent quality time with quality people. All of which is much much better than what's coming on Monday afternoon.   I'm going to enjoy these peaceful moments while I can.

I spent yesterday outside,  gardening.  I transplanted and irrigated.  I lifted and dug. I examined and decided.  What I didn't do was write a post. I hung giant ornament balls on the lower branches of the trees... one red,  one green,  and one white and sparkly.  I put the colorful mylar wreaths on the mailbox post.  What I didn't do was take any pictures.  I was in the moment,  smiling,  singing,  digging in the dirt. I wasn't thinking of anything else.  Sorry this is late.  Please don't begrudge me my lovely day. 

and strangely, neither the old man nor the old woman are snoring.  We are both surprisingly productive. The rain has been steady, without a lot of bluster.  Usually cloudy days make me sad; somehow, this rain has been different.   It shows up at the oddest times.  5:30 in the morning, when even the sun knows better than to disturb my sleep.   10:30 at night, after a beautiful, clear, blue sky, sunny Arizona day, just when we walked outside to prowl the property before bed.  From 8 to 11am,  just enough to thwart any hope I might have had of going to Grandma's Garden. The plants are delighted. During a dry spell, I walked up one street and down another in our neighborhood,  amazed at how healthy everything looked.  That prompted me to walk past my yard a few times, casting a critical eye on what it was now possible for me to do without pain.  I drew X's where things needed to go, knowing that I would enjoy trying to remember exa...

Giblet liked the ballet.   He was told that he could applaud when so moved.  Being a child surrounded by affirmations at home and at school, he was right on it.  Every time someone leapt, he clapped his hands and encouraged them, loudly.  You're doing great!  Keep going!  Good job! The notion of intermission flummoxed him.  Leaving and then going back was not on his agenda.  When you leave your seat, it's over.... right?  There was no convincing him to return, and so they did not. Maga's suggestion of a fancy dinner held no allure, either.  McDonald's, please . After that, they went back to Maga and Papa's house where the kid played happily in Papa's big truck (pushing buttons and turning levers and turning dials and light toggles is his idea of heaven) until it was time to go home. Grandma to Grandma, I feel for Maga. Grandma to Giblet, I'm glad there were rides after the ballet.  

Maga, grandmother only to boys, was delighted with FlapJilly's arrival for many reasons.  Among them was taking a little girl to see The Nutcracker ballet.  FlapJilly was thrilled to have a chance, after COVID delayed it for two years, to dress up, to do fashion, until a fever and tummy troubles woke her up the night before.  Maga had to agree; the kid looked awful. Giblet was happy to tap in.  He dressed himself in his handsome pants  (khaki's) and his handsome sweater.   Without prompting, he brushed his teeth and did his hair (just like Daddy would). And, of course, there were questions.   What will it be like?  (Flummoxed parents scramble to describe seeing a live performance to a COVID sheltered 4 year old.)    It's like a movie in a big theatre only with live people on a real stage. And the ballet has dancing, a lot of dancing, and the dancers' bodies are so strong, and so fit, and they jump so high, it's really amazing. As am...

I left the box of sidewalk chalk out in plain sight on Tuesday. Obviously, that was a tactical error. My plan to examine the seedlings and try to figure out what they'd flower into was quickly laid to waste. They have a great time covering the top of the wall with chalk. Some break out and coat the small gate. All of them have fun walking their hands through the chalk dust    and giving each other high fives and applauding one another and playing tag.      I sent those who were running out to the playground , and got down to the real work with the six big kids who were left.  We unpacked the six pack of lettuces, unwound the roots from the root ball, dug holes just as deep and twice as wide and then patted the plants into those holes, filling from bottom to top to avoid air pockets. There were 6 lettuces and 6 scholar gardeners.  I love it when a plan comes together. The lettuce are planted just beyond the beet seeds some of the 3rd graders and I set ...

The result was pleasing, there's no doubt about it.  The margin of victory will be right around 3% when all the ballots are counted and certified (don't you love how cognizant of the minutiae of voting we've become?).  That's not very much, but it's more than enough to avoid a recount. On the other hand by Wednesday afternoon it was reported that 1,719,483 Georgians had cast their ballot for a man who lived in Texas until he declared his candidacy for the Georgia Senate.  How can they imagine that he knows what their concerns are, let alone represent them in Congress?   How did they reconcile the stories of the women who described his abuses with their decision that he was of sufficient moral character to be their Senator?  Like DeShaun Watson,  his exploits on the field seem to provide blanket coverage for all other actions. And I'm not even close to the part about his inability to find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flashlight. If he artic...

I really did plan to get the lettuce 6pack into the garden bed.  I brought my sharp digging tools so that the big kids could continue their work on the holes for the rosemary and the blackberry bush.  With all the rain that's fallen, our normally rock solid ground is just a bit more pliable; I anticipated great progress being made. I didn't find a parking space close enough for my greedy satisfaction by the back gate near the garden, so I drove to the front parking lot and walked in the main door, carrying my bag of tools and a smaller bag of brownies for each of the kindergarten teachers.  I distributed single foil wrapped home baked goods to the receptionist and the Principal's assistant and the nurse and the Native People's Outreach worker on my way out the door, to cross the playground and walk to the garden. I didn't get very far. Grandma!  Grandma! and then there were kindergarten kids, 4 rows deep, trying to get their arms around me.  I was hooked.  ...

.... it is 8:51 and the football game is almost over and I've still not written tomorrow's post.  I'm always finished before the football game is over.   In my defense,  I've been busy turning this into dozens of packages of brownies; a giant box of gifts for my grandchildren (the cost of shipping made me reconsider, for a moment, how far from them we ought to be); and into this which is just part of the memory filled decorating I'm doing, day by day, filling the house with lots of little pillows   which amuse and annoy TBG in equal measure,  each of which tells me a story.  And I haven't even thought about the 8 days of Hanukkah yet. 

Yes, it rains in the desert.  Not often, but enough so that plants actually green up and flowers bloom.  We're usually very happy to see the rain.  The smell of creosote, the happy plants, the water reflecting off the leaves as the sun sets..... I'm usually smiling pretty hard. But it's been non-stop raining for the past two days, and I've had enough.   Every joint in my body hurts, except my mechanical hip.  My bent finger is screeching at me every time I hit the h or the y or the b.  TBG's dropping barometer migraine sidelined him for the day; it was just too much on top of a major reaction to the shingles vaccine.* I had plans to blow dry my hair, finish my holiday shopping, and attend the Cornell Club's Holiday Luncheon.  The rain put the kibosh to the first two parts of my day, but did nothing to diminish the beauty of the venue.  Tucson has some very nice public meeting spaces, most of them with delicious food.  This fell right in ...

I know all about the avian virus that was destined to wreak havoc on Thanksgiving this year.  But the grocery store revealed something else. There were plenty of frozen turkeys in the freezer section.  There were pre-packaged breasts and thighs and tenders further down the aisle.  But there were no eggs. There were also no eggs at Albertsons. There were no eggs at Costco today.  There haven't been eggs at Costco for a few weeks.   I tried to go somewhere with the whole which came first  thing, but I got nowhere.  Feel free to improvise on your own.

In the years leading up to WW2, my Uncle Irving bought junk.  Out of commission machinery, steel shelving from abandoned warehouses, roll up metal shutters that once protected businesses, all were organized and stored and then sold to the government not that many years later when ships and planes were being built at a furious pace.   He was alternately proud and embarrassed by his success selling junk.  His younger and only brother was a doctor, still married to his first wife, and much admired by his 6 sisters.  On our tour of his building he told my parents, in Yiddish, from shit you make money.    He was my favorite uncle. Today, I spent a lot of time with Uncle Irving on my shoulder, perusing this establishment: in an attempt to rectify this situation at the entrance to my neighborhood:     Not-Kathy volunteered her nascent welding skills if I'd supply the materials, so off we drove this morning to one of her Happy Places.  Whil...