First Day of Fourth Grade

Her hair is (uncharacteristically) pulled back, the better to display the earrings in her newly pierced ears. The shoes and the jacket make quite a big girl fashion statement.

And last Sunday, the family went on the river! All photos from Claui.)

                        I think she enjoyed herself.
                                                                     

            

Rainmaker

Yesterday was really hot and I had, in the early morning, prepped a shrimp salad (shrimp, onion, celery, hard-boiled eggs, red bell pepper, held together with homemade mayo and homemade ranch dressing.) All that was missing was a big tomato and some chips. 

At the grocery, I was delighted to find beautiful local heirloom tomatoes. Also potato chips. But when I got home, the chips had gone missing. Thus the little cheese crackers on the side. Not the same but not bad.

But the really weird (even weirder than the missing chips) thing is--and it's happened many, many times before--is that something about my making shrimp salad for a hot-day meal almost always brings on the rain. And we enjoy our hot-day meal in blessed cool.

With a bonus rainbow!

 

The Cherokee Peach

Hit was washday and I was haulin water from the spring when Levy Johnson come down the mountain. My fire was goin good but I needed me some more water for the rinsin. Levy was on his way to help Daddy with plowin the corn and he was ridin a big sorrel mare, all geared up, but when he saw me he slid down from the mare's back and said, I'll tote them heavy pails for you.

His hair was the color of Mister Tomlin's gold pieces and his face was smooth and put me in mind of the ripe peaches on our red-leaved Cherokee peach tree. I smiled when I thought this for just then the sun broke through the morning mist and I could see the fuzz, same as a peach has, all along Levy's jawbone.

When I wrote that scene in Signs in the Blood, I had this particular peach tree in mind -- red leaves, small pinky-red peaches. I have no idea what the varietal name of our peach tree (which grows down at our pond --not by the cabin) might be. But I know how free and easy my older neighbors were with proper names of plants and it seemed not unlikely that Little Sylvie might have known a red-leaved peach as a Cherokee.

Feeling curious, I asked Mr. Google about Cherokee peach. Turns out there is one -- but I doubt it's the same.

I also learned that peaches were a very early introduction to the Americas -- probably brought in by the Spaniards -- and they 'went wild' so long ago that many people (myself included) assumed they were native.

Peaches were cultivated by the Native Americans and one of the many sad stories from the Trail of Tears was that the soldiers destroyed the Cherokee orchards to force them away from their land.

But peaches are stubborn and wherever the fruit drops, before long a new tree will spring up. Resilient-- like the Cherokee.

The Beauty of Old Barns

 

Dear Sirs

 Once again I urge you to pay attention to what is going on  under your watch. 

Your president, not content with taking a wrecking ball to the White House and expending billions of taxpayer dollars on unneeded vanity projects, luxury jets, and the useless wall in Big Bend National Park, has decided that he knows more about jet launch systems and childhood vaccines than the experts. Meanwhile he and his family continue to rake in billions.

While the sailors aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln continue to suffer inhumane conditions, leading to mental health problems--all of which Trump and Hegseth deny despite testimony of family members.

I am also appalled to learn that the thugs of ICE are being issued electric shock gloves, despite their proven track record of reckless endangerment (and murder) of civilians and mistreatment of perceived undocumented immigrants.

It seems that the cruelty, capriciousness, and greed of this administration have no limits. When will you be moved to try to rein it in?

Nine Years Ago

We were just getting to know one another.

But she already seemed pretty sure of her place in the universe.

Next week. 4th grade! 

 

Will We, Nil We

                                                                   

                                         

Like it or not, perhaps the current high prices of meat and gas could end up being beneficial to the planet and our health. 

I strive to find the positives in the current unpleasantness. One is, that with the astronomical price of food, beef in particular, we (John and I) are eating less beef. We've tried for some years to stick to an every other day vegetarian menu, but now the non-vegetarian days feature much smaller portions of meat.  Probably good for us; certainly good for the planet.

And I've long been careful about gas consumption, making one trip out serve several purposes. Then I read yesterday that, due to the high cost of gas (due to Trump's stupid war). Pakistan is seeing a surge in the purchase of electric scooters and bikes.

I know this is a simplistic viewpoint, but wouldn't it be interesting if some environmental good comes of this regime's disastrous policies?

It Was Time

After a quarter of a century and hard use by multiple dogs (and cats who expressed themselves artistically on the back, the leather sofa and love seat had reached a state that would have suited them for a stage set for some family-down-on-their-luck drama. Rips, mended with duct tape (brown instead of silver--we're not barbarians) and a pervasive ground-in nastiness that we covered inadequately with a denim cloth have been troubling us for some time.

It wasn't just getting new furniture; it was getting rid of the old. The love seat was manageable through the twists and turns of our front door but the sofa had to be brought in by removing some of the basement stairs and shoving it (with the aid of our two sons) up through the opening. 

We didn't want to do that again. So we shopped online for modular furniture in boxes that could be unpacked on the porch and brought in piecemeal through the front door.

What we ended up with suits us fine. The covers are removable and washable. We added a waterproof cover to the sofa as Otter has a bit of an uncertain bladder. And also just to preserve the sofa. We'll pull the cover off and add throw pillows when we have company.

My chair is very imposing. I feel like Captain Kirk on the Enterprise and may begin saying "Make it so" a lot.

The dogs are less pleased. They were all pretty sure that old sofa was theirs. They were watching in horror as Justin sawed it into two pieces (in order to get it out the door) and Otter remained on the cushy back till forcibly removed.

I got Jenny a new bed to try to make up for the loss of her favorite resting place (see below.)

                                                               

I don't think she's convinced.

 

A Menacing Stare

Enough to make a predator think again when the Io (aka Peacock) moth flashes the big "eyes" on its under wings. 

In Greek mythology Io was a nymph loved by Zeus and transformed into a white heifer to hide her from his jealous wife Hera. But Hera found out about the deception and demanded the heifer from Zeus who had no choice but to hand her over. 

Then Hera set Argus, a giant with a hundred eyes, to watch over the heifer and see that there was no hanky-panky. 

But Zeus sent Hermes to the rescue and Hermes decapitated the giant. Hera, as a consolation prize, set the giant's hundred eyes in the tail of the peacock.

After much wandering, Io was returned to human form.  And the peacock eye on the moth inspired someone to name it for this beleaguered nymph. Whew!

I found this critter on the floor of my workroom. In perfect condition but dead, alas. One of the windows has a fan in it but no screen which is likely how it got in. I only hope it had time to breed and/or lay eggs before it came in. 

 

The Vine That Ate the South

My grandfather called it "Cut Sue" and it was just getting started on covering the landscape when he was young. Kudzu is from Japan and was, the story goes, introduced into the US by an enthusiastic lady gardener who loved the fragrant purple flowers. 

Oh, the damage we enthusiastic gardeners can wreak! Kudzu, English ivy, bittersweet, multiflora rose, Japanese spirea,burning bush . . . to name a few, some of which I introduced to our place.

Here's a hint: if it's really cheap at the garden center or in a catalog, then it's super easy to grow and probably invasive, as I now know, to my sorrow.

 

Flowers of August

                         

From a friend's garden a dozen Augusts ago.

Tarzan, a Childhood Hero

Though the Lone Ranger took first place in my childhood pantheon, Tarzan was indubitably a close second.

I think the 1950's comics must have been my introduction to the ape man, but before long I discovered the books. The first was Tarzan of the Apes, his origin story in which his English parents (of the nobility, no less), are killed and he, a helpless infant is adopted by a band of great apes. 

How he learns to read when he grows older, explores his parents'abandoned cabin, and puzzles out the "little bugs" on the pages of the children's book was one of my favorite parts, improbable though it was.

This particular volume in the series, from 1920, deals with WWI and German atrocities in East Africa. Tarzan (now also known as Lord Greystoke) is hunting down the presumed murderers of his wife Lady Jane.

It's fairly sensational writing for the time--a walled city inhabited (mostly) by maniacs, a captive girl, heaving bosoms--altogether a fun read and, for me, a blast from a kinder, gentler past where good prevails.

And though there's nothing quite like enjoying this vintage hero while reading the crumbling pages of a century-old book, all nine volumes are available on Kindle for 99 cents. How can I resist?

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Josie the Water Queen

Josie has maintained a busy schedule this summer--a week at the beach, soccer camp, Grandma's new kitten, music camp, sleepovers, and now arts camp.

This week I take her to camp and then pick her up--some of the days. 

She's always liked helping me water the porch plants.

This time, she watered herself.

She's growing apace, isn't she? Those of you who've followed her progress from the beginning are probably as surprised as I am.

Fourth grade coming up. And next year she'll be in the double digits. 

Hard to believe. And hard to keep up with her.