Morning Exercises

                                                      

One of the joys of being old and without too many demands on my time is that I can ease into the morning at my own pace. That is, after I've let Jenny out at seven and fed the cats and tended to their litter box. By then I'm too awake to go back to sleep so I make the bed, get dressed, and head for the living room.

John usually gets up earlier and eats his breakfast and he also makes the coffee--which is most welcome. I take a thyroid pill on arising and am not supposed to eat till an hour later--which is fine with me as I'm not hungry till around nine.

But now it's exercise time. Not aerobics (as if) or yoga or, indeed, anything physical, but mental calisthenics in the form of online puzzles. Something to limber up my mind before I tackle the news of the day.

I started with Wordle, and over time I've gotten pretty good at it. My opening word, for a long time, was ocean, which worked well until the day that it was the answer to the puzzle. Of course that was nice but it left me feeling oddly disappointed as I hadn't gotten to make any guesses.

Now my opening word is canoe --which is, of course, an anagram of ocean. Not sure what I'll do if it's the answer one day.

I've added a few other games to my morning exercises-- Waffle is one, but it's almost too easy. Connections is fun and sometimes very challenging especially when they use items from popular culture. I never watched The Simpsons or any recent television and have only a superficial knowledge of sports teams, video games, Broadway shows, and films of any sort. Still, I manage to muddle through most days.

And then there's Spelling Bee--just the thing for me--except that they don't always accept some words that I know are words--though possibly archaic or arcane. 

No Sudoku for me. I looked at it once and was totally flummoxed. I am not a number person.

My little morning routine is a pleasant way to get my brain in gear and then see what the two Heathers have to say about the latest outrages of this wretched regime. And then on to the NY Times, which, as yet, hasn't had the news that I am most hopeful for.

And so my day begins.

 

Dolce Far Niente

It's not the beach or a hideout in the backyard, but it's right pleasant for doing nothing.

 

When School Was Out

                                                       

Photo from Pixabay by leoleobobeo

Tomorrow is Josie's last day of school and it has me remembering when I was her age and the joy that summer vacation brought.

Summer meant going to the beach with my parents for a week or sometimes two. And it meant going barefoot, something I wasn't allowed to do at home for fear of hookworms. Sandcastles, drip castles, shell-collecting, jumping up and down in the gentle waves of the Gulf of Mexico, playing shuffle-board--an ubiquitous feature of beach rentals, watching pelicans glide in dignified files just above the waves . . . the beach back then in the early Fifties was full of delights and there were no towering condominiums.

And the rest of the summer stretched out before me in a warm haze . . . playing outside with the kids on the block till lightning bugs rose up out of the grass and mothers began to call us home in spite of our protests that it wasn't dark yet and we could still see, riding my bike, reading Oz books and Nancy Drew in my hideout under a bush in the yard . . . no classes, no planned activities, no schedule . . . it was a time of dolce far niente--the sweetness of doing nothing.

Japanese Iris

After the Siberian and the Bearded Iris have called it a day, the Japanese Iris are a pleasant sight. At one time I had three or four different ones but, at the moment, this seems to be the only survivor. 

And very welcome it is!

 

Remembering . . .

                                         

 

Turkeys (non-political)

These two toms were showing off for two apparently unimpressed hens,

 

Dear Sirs

                                                           

While you're enjoying your Memorial Day weekend, give a thought to what you and your party will be remembered for: an unprovoked war on Iran, leading to soaring prices and shortages worldwide; a 1.7 billion dollars slush fund that could reward those who attacked the Capitol; garish unwanted and expensive additions to the Capitol; threats against Cuba and Greenland; and possibly the most egregious act of all--a Get Out Of Jail Free card for the president and his family in the form of immunity for tax crimes, past, present, and future.

This is your legacy. Are you proud of it?

Oh, Joy!!!

Rain, glorious rain! So badly needed and so very welcome.

 

The Little Things

These days, these unsettling days with new outrages issuing from the White House like a steady stream of sewage, I still find great pleasure in the smallest things . . . the crystalline water drops on the new fuchsia . . .

... the sun shining through a kalanchoe leaf. . .

. . . a half-hearted rainbow at sunset . . . even a random dandelion's rosette can make me smile.

 

The Fragrant Air

We really need rain but this dry weather has been perfect for making hay.  Those long windrows were there Monday afternoon and by Tuesday afternoon the fields were bare--the great round bales already carted off to storage.

The smell of new-mown hay is absolutely intoxicating. And at this time of year, it's joined by a medley of other enticing scents.

Privet and honeysuckle are invasive plants, but, oh, how sweet they smell!

Alas, these are fleeting pleasures. But now I'll be looking forward to the comforting sound and delicious aroma of rain. 

 

Dear Sirs

                                                       

                                                        

 Payment for grifters, rioters, and anarchists? Your president, abetted by his puppet Justice Department is setting up a 1.8 billion dollar fund to pay his allies who feel they were unfairly targeted by the previous administration. This could include the misguided fools who attempted to overthrow the rule of law on January 6, 2021. That he has already pardoned them, including those who threatened members of Congress, attacked police, and chanted "Hang Mike Pence," is despicable enough but now, your president want to reward these criminals with taxpayer money.

We cannot afford this man. Between his ballroom, arch, statuary garden, ill-advised painting of the Reflecting Pool, and, oh, yes, his unadvised war on Iran, he is bleeding the country dry while lining his own pockets and those of his allies.

When will you wake from your slavish worship of this golden monster and think about your constituents? And about the country you claim to love?

Earth Laughs in Flowers

 

Into Every Life . . .

I had just finished making my version of ranch dressing and was preparing to decant it into a jar when I decided to turn off the power on the blender first. 

Only I hit the wrong button. And the top wasn't on. And I got a face full of dressing. 

Of course I pulled the plug immediately.

But not before there were glops of dressing everywhere, on the counter and the cabinet doors . . .

. . . on the rug, on the floor . . .

"Into every life," said John, as he went to fetch the mop to clean the ceiling, "a little ranch dressing must fall."