The Burrow

TBG gets credit for finding some thing new to say, after hearing that if Trump refuses to surrender in NYC DeSantis won't extradite him: It's awfully hard to run for President if you can't leave Florida.

Another School Shooting What does it say about us that we cannot keep our children safe? We have failed as a society. Bill Hileman Northwest side Watching the news, tears in his eyes, my husband looked at me and said that. Then he said it again. The third time he said that we are a failed society I typed the words into the Letters to the Editor form at the Arizona Daily Star's website and clicked Send. I didn't ask if he minded my using his name.  We have unity of person  when it comes to things like this.   His letter was published in Wednesday's edition of the paper; I shared it with him before breakfast, explaining that my name is synonymous with gun safety here in Tucson and I wanted to amplify the message by having someone else say what was in my heart. That's fine.  I'm glad to be the pumpernickel to your white bread. Feel free to copy his words and be the pumpernickel in your local paper, too.

Uphill  is a short read.  Jemele Hill is an advocate, a sports writer, a broadcaster (though not a very happy one), a daughter, a granddaughter, and a friend.   What she isn't is an author. The book details her family's personal struggles with addiction and abuse; how she came out of her childhood relatively unscathed is a minor miracle.  The book roasts ESPN's culture and leadership.  The book lauds those who took time to mentor her, but she has much more fun skewering those who thwarted her, who disrespected her, who didn't give her what she deserved. I couldn't find fault with the facts or her interpretation of them.  What bothered me was the writing. Ms Hill writes for the Atlantic; I've never read her work.  After finishing Uphill , I'm not sure I want to. The book presents last names without context; I was constantly flipping back to figure out who was who. It dances around the years, back and forth, confusing the timeline and this reader....

I wrote a post this morning. Then, I watched the news. Then I watched the reporters' microphones in front of a Highland Park July 4th shooting survivor who was visiting family in Nashville. We have failed as a society when we can't keep the littlest among us safe in school.... or at the grocery store.... or watching a parade. No comments today, please.  If you feel the urge to reach out,    you might phone the United States  Capitol switchboard  at (202) 224-3121 and tell your elected officials how you feel.

The madness has turned to sadness. I have no teams left.  Princeton beating Arizona was not something I could have predicted, but it didn't matter because Alabama was out in the early rounds, too. I was doing pretty well in the early rounds, and my picks of Furman and Creighton and Texas took me into the later rounds, but now, I'm toast. ESPN had more than 20 million participants in their March Madness pool. I've been in the upper 90%'s since the beginning: 99.6% of the 20 million plus people who were playing were doing worse than I was.  Big Cuter encouraged me to revel, and I did. A woman at Pilates asked how much I was going to win.  Bragging Rights was my answer, and it feels like enough. At one point I was in the top 122 thousand entrants. I spent some time with that number. I stalked the Leader Board.  The top participants felt like my friends.   And now, I can have a rooting interest in some of the players and some of the coaches, but I'm not investe...

 Before we start, I wanted to show you proof that, at times, Grandma's Garden is neat and organized. 2019 There is always a plan.  Unfortunately for the plan, there are always children. Those children need to dig and to plant and to toss seeds with reckless abandon thus destroying any hope I might have had to bring order out of chaos.   Combined with the recent rains right at the flowering and growing window potential mandarin oranges making their first appearance in Grandma's Garden and their charmingly enthusiastic participation  (repeated every few weeks because, well, why not?) and my absence {due to their Spring Break and my life} today, when I arrived with the kindergarten  I could only say Wow! They aren't weeds, because we planted them so, by definition, they are the right plant in the right place.  but whatever they are they are taller than a 6 year old.   Did I mention how much they like to dig? There is nothing there.  They ar...

I seem to have hit a nerve. If you click through to yesterday's comments  you'll see that I'm not alone in being spammed in ever more sophisticated ways.  That Olga received the same letter from a different name suggests a data base of brilliant older women who recognize nonsense when they see it.   Carol, like TBG and I, has a landline .  Hers, like ours, is bombarded with spam.  Comcast/Xfinity labels lots of it as spam, but it still rings and rings and, sometimes it gets into my voice mail. The worst is when TBG gets involved. Like Terry, he tends to believe what he's being told.  During Pandemica, I found myself reminding him that he was allowed to hang up the phone.   That's what's so insidious about this.  They are getting more and more sophisticated .  The texts with misspellings and grammar with an Eastern European bent are easy to delete, and so are the gmails and the voice mails.  But it's the moment of Oh No What N...

Godiva Disessa <melssigutaai@hotmail.com> wrote to me last week. Mar 14, 2023, 6:57 AM (My Real Name),, I am reaching out from the Financial Assistance Department,  where I have been assigned to assist with  your recent application for hardship assistance . I have reviewed your application and am pleased to inform you that you have been pre-approved for up to $37,000 in financial support. Our program is designed to provide  unique opportunities to those facing financial difficulties, and I would be honored to assist you in enrolling. To that end, I would like to schedule a call to discuss the details of the program and answer any questions you may have....

It's not a urinal, although the comparison struck me as I posted the picture. It's my new contact delivery system.  It made me very happy when I peeled back the lid. Every other package I've ever opened, regardless of the manufacturer, has presented the contact floating in a round bowl.  In order to get it out, I had to pour the contents into my open palm to retrieve the contact, or scrape the finger holding the contact along the side of the bowl, trying not to break it or scratch it with my fingernail as my knuckle bent to lift it out. But when I opened my new prescription in the new, water filled, 30 day continuous wear configuration, I discovered that not only were the contacts themselves cutting edge technology, but the container itself had been updated. I slid my finger into the concavity of the contact and slid it out effortlessly.  I didn't pause to be sure I wasn't cutting it with my nail or the edge.  It was on my finger and out of ...

Yes, it's a sports post.  I've tried to be clear;  I've put hints in parentheses.   If you have no clue about any of it, you might take solace from this clip of Anderson Cooper.    His incomprehension is magnificent.  He owns it, completely and totally.  We all have our blind spots.  I can appreciate it if you stop reading here and come back tomorrow. But, I've been having some pithy thoughts that I'm happy to share with the rest of you, so, read on, if you care. ***** My Arizona Wildcats lost in the first (of 6) rounds, on Thursday (the first day of the tournament weekend).  This is notable for many reasons, not the least of which is that I have them winning the whole damn thing. Their performance was lackluster and frustrating.  They wielded those huge bodies like giant marshmallows.  I've never been 13 inches taller than another person my age, but I have to think I could prevent them from scoring at will.  As I said, fr...

I know nothing about the origins of the holiday.  I do know that once the boys made it clear that corned beef and cabbage and boiled potatoes did not hold a candle to pizza, Little Cuter and I began a delicious tradition of eating, ravenously, voraciously, turning to our fingers when that bite  eluded the fork.   I've missed her every March 15th since she went to college.   Her brother in law brines his own meat, creating three huge trays, each with a different recipe, enough for the family and friends that filled his house.  I'm jealous of the food, but not the public setting.  Part of the joy I take is in the messiness, the pure hedonism, the lack of propriety or respect for anything except getting the tastes into my mouth as efficiently as I can. I usually use a dish towel instead of a paper napkin. I am slovenly and unapologetic. So, for whatever reason we celebrate you, thank you St. Patrick for having a day. ****** Yes, of course, now I'll d...

I can certainly see why you'd say the were weeds. Scruffy doesn't even come close to how unkempt it looked. But the flowers are beautiful                                                   and delicious But when it's cleaned up I think it looks more like a flowering meadow.  

I needed a large sprayer bottle.  I was in CVS and couldn't find what I wanted.  I drove across the parking lot to the Ace Hardware, parked, walked across the tarmac, approached the door..... and then my day went to Hell. I almost didn't go in.   I needed the sprayer.  I didn't want to waste gas driving around looking for one.  I decided to make it a teachable moment, rather than give in to my fear. The cashier asked how I was doing.  I'm a little bit anxious, than you. The Assistant Manager was standing next to the sprayer.  He smiled at me. I smiled back, trying for rueful, as I said that I was sad that I wasn't going to be shopping in his store any longer, now that he was selling ammunitions. Well, ma'am, you have to give the customers what they want. There was (to me) a lengthy pause as I stared at his face.  No, you don't, not if you care. I lost it when he told me not to worry.  I told him about being shot with Gabby and how the fi...

I've been going through closets.  I've been finding lots of interesting things, including this:  The cap gun is probably mine from my Annie Oakley days.  The holster looks too new for a 60 something year old leather strap and pouch.  I have no idea where it came from or why I have it. It was startling.  I picked up a folder and my eyes got stuck.   The boots have a high heel.  Unless Little Cuter takes ownership I guess I'll have to take responsibility.   TBG took one look at it and said THROW IT OUT! Why do we have that?  THROW IT OUT!   And I did. For a while, the Annie Oakley/Calamity Jane piece of me treasured that cap gun.  I loved the lurking and the skulking and the bam-bam-shoot-em-up adventures my cousins and siblings and I had in and around our abutting yards.   Those are powerful memories. My, how times have changed.    

TBG took me out to breakfast at Cryin' Onion , where the thinner-than-a-crepe-but-it's-still-a-pancake filled with blueberries drooped over the edges of the big, round plate.   Fresh squeezed orange juice and an efficient and engaging server made up for the 10 minutes we'd spent sitting in a booth at IHOP, untended and feeling unwanted as the staff walked past, studiously avoiding our eyes, until we left, my hopes for their *NEW* BERRY TOPPED CREPES dashed.   But the sun was out and the highway was the best way to get there and we zoomed south a couple of exits for what was, I am certain, a much better version. ***** The sunny day tempted me to work on the weeds in the front yard.   I pulled, I sprayed (a little - there are really too many at this point to try any other way).  I pulled some more.   The bluebells are lovely.  Everything else is truly a weed - the wrong plant in the wrong place. ***** I showered off the gardening and donne...

I've written this before and I'm sure I'll write it again.  Girlfriends are the best. I've had a lot of them in my life lately.   Miss Mississippi and I talked on the phone for 90 minutes before one of us looked at the clock and we both realized we had to go.   The Social Justice Warriors are here from Chicago; she and I walked and talked and talked and talked this afternoon and, despite her husband's fears, we'll still have more to talk about over dinner tonight. The Chauffeur is getting Mr. 19 (in Chicago for a solo Spring Break) into the East Bank Club  on a guest pass.  Being who she is, she finagled him 2 days to visit. My daughter's smoothie recipe, a quick text from a Playgroup Mom, delightful conversations with the women who run the landscaping company and the Pilates studio and the hair salon and the doctor's office - all encounters with woman who were upbeat and helpful and smart. I'm a lucky woman.

There were some pretty fabulous stories at the Female Agents of Change panel.  Moderated by the former editor of the Arizona Daily Star, these women Bobbie Jo Buel, Dahlia Lithwick, Sheri Brenden, Jemele Hill covered topics from abortion to Title IX, stopping off at racism, sexism and Donald Trump along the way.   Sheri Brenden's big sister was a junior in high school when she filed suit in Minnesota because her school did not have a girls' tennis team.   It wasn't a class action suit; that would have taken too much time.  She wanted to play in her senior year, not spend it in a courtroom.  She and her co-plaintiff won their suit, and the result was Title IX.    Her proud little sister wrote the story all these years later. She's still beaming. Dahlia Lithwick (Big Cuter: OH! From SLATE!!)  had us laughing from the start.  The Supreme Court was inching closer to equality.... we could see it from our porch  was her rueful descri...

Jim Nitzel , Malcolm Nance , Mark Leibovich, David Corn I spent some time with the talking heads I see on tv every night.  They were all perfectly comfortable with their broadcast credentials - Malcolm Nance called himself a spy who talks on tv. After spending the day watching Tucker Carlson being excoriated on MSNBC, I had a greater appreciation for this, from Major Garrett (formerly of Fox News) - Defending the truth is not BIAS! David Corn reminded us that the GOP has always included the Far Right - Joseph McCarthy, the John Birch Society, Ronald Reagan, Pat Robertson - and then Nance was on, again.  Today's Far Right has been infiltrated by Russia , and Putin knows an idiot when he sees one.    There were lots of heads nodding as he described Trump giving his base and the toady politicians who follow him, permission to be nasty - then they will be respected.  Switching gears and speaking directly to the C-SPAN BookTV cameras airing the event live, he call...

 Do you know Temple Grandin? She's a Colorado State University professor of animal sciences, an animal behaviorist, and an autism activist.  Labeled autistic, she didn't speak until she was three and a half.  On Saturday, she spoke eloquently and passionately and intelligently about animal behavior, the lack of shop and sewing classes in public schools, the hands on classes where visual thinkers thrived.   Education phased out ways to enhance object visualizers  she said, while bemoaning the demise of the Clever Engineer, working in the shop, inventing mechanical devices.  We've lost the ability to make things,  reminding us that the chip was invented here, but isn't made here.   There were three more take-aways I want to share: If I have to take a course to use the software, it's a failure.  I shouldn't have to learn to use the software. A young man identified himself as "on the spectrum" and asked When you're weird, how do you sel...

It's my favorite weekend in Tucson.   Free to the public, there are hundreds of author presentations,  indie publishers hawking their wares,  tents devoted to science and food and racial justice, and a kids' village. There were giant games to play and an even bigger heart to walk through. There was a NASA Solar System Ambassador, whose explanation of gravity's effect on space actually penetrated my brain. Her outfit was outdone only by her demeanor.  She looked that happy even when she was explaining Einstein.  (By the way, did you know that Jupiter's day is longer than its year?) I was struck by the footwear of the men on one panel. I was in the front row for Jemelle Hill's fabulous sneakers.   It was sunny and in the 70's.   Visitors were in shorts and t-shirts, blue jeans and backpacks, baby strollers and wheelchairs. I have no idea what these two were up to. I didn't notice Jack Sparrow...

I rescued the Homeowner's Association once before, offering up Fast Eddie to fill the leadership vacuum.  He healed schisms and settled disputes, his folksy charm belying a canny intellect.  He loved doing it as he eased into a full retirement.  The neighborhood thrived under his gentle guidance.   Then he moved away and, once again, I had a hand in convincing another charming and intelligent person to take on the job.  She's a pleasure to work with, running crisp meetings that end in record time. Through it all, I've been the Landscape Committee.  My duties involve tending to any egregious excesses.  Lifting the tree impinging on the roadway was my major accomplishment.  Over the past 10 or so years, I've probably spent 2 hours on landscaping issues.   But I'm done.  I don't want any more meetings in my life.  I don't want responsibilities that don't bring me joy.  I'm embarking on the Adulthood of Old Age, and I wa...

I opened the blinds to this: It just got better. The sun came up. I'm driving to pilates,  then walking with Taos Bubbe. More pictures may follow.  Snow in the desert..... living here never ceases to amaze me.