Tuesday, June 27, 2017

I grow a few cultivated flowers. Flipping through flower catalogs, I only want them all. In my fantasy world, My entire front pasture is a a huge flower garden. In this dream, I till rows and rows of zinnias and sunflowers effortlessly.

But I am lucky to keep the grass mowed and my two flower beds clean of grass. I planted tomatoes too late. The vines are promising. But tomatoes don't produce when it gets too hot. They also don't flower if you plant them in the shade. The chances of the plants making it to September and producing fruit is possible. We always try to get a few to ripen before the first freeze in November. It has never happened.

The first frost is always mischievous. The Confederate Rose plant starts blooming and is quite a delight. The plant is related okra (a vegetable we eat), cotton and hibiscus. We have a Confederate Rose that grows about 20 feet tall. I am so proud of it. And then that frost gets it every Fall. I cut it down to the ground for beautiful new growth the next year. I've let it grow from a former year stalks. You have those weedy dead limbs for so long. Even when it has reached it's Zenith, you can walk around and snap dead limbs.
Confederate Rose

My favorite plants are wildflowers. Lately, the wild potato vine is blooming. The flower should remind you of a morning glory. It is a native species of morning glory. It is supposed to have a large, edible tuber that is edible and people historically ate them. The big drawback is they are a purgative. But if you think about it, consuming a large number of carrots will be a purgative. Since the grocer sells plenty of carrots and turnips, I'll forgo digging up a wild potato.

Below are some beautiful daisy like flowers growing on the roadside. No I don't know the name.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

This week has been challenging.. I stayed up until 3 am one night getting paperwork organised for my sister. The next day I functioned pretty good on 3 hours of sleep. This past week has been continued paper work, meeting deadlines.

I made the mistake of mowing grass at my sister's house during the heat of the day. Although the yard is quite small, it played with my diabetes big time. I drank a half gallon of orange juice to get my sugar where it needed to be.

The worst of the week is I lost a dog to a rattle snake bite. I live in the country and snakes pass through. I did pay for her to have anti-venom but rattle snake venom is so potent.  I don't care how old you get; a dog can break your heart. Holly was the heartbreak kid. I've got to breakdown and buy myself a pair of snake boots.

Louise stole some cheese my sister had set out to warm to room temperature. I heard her sneaking in my room. Then my sister said someone had stole the cheese. She makes me think of myself. It was obvious she was the culprit. Guilt wears on us. Running to my sister, Louise apologized profusely, it was cheese and she loves cheese and most anything else. Louise likes to eat a slice of apple when you are eating an apple.

I read a book this weekend by a good local author, Charlotte Moore. It was a cozy mystery and the first one in the Hunter Jones mystery. Reading as a writer, the book had outstanding structure. It was set in central Georgia so I enjoyed the naming of people and exposition of Southern culture.

I'm not normally fond of "The South" topic. Many times it is made up caricatures of who we are. I've heard people who are young enough to be my daughter talking about chain gangs and other aspects of the Southern landscape that died out before World War II. Some things like the KKK straggled up until the seventies. It's depressing it is re-emerging today under different names.

 The hard scrabble farmer fought for their regionalism much like their great grand parents fought in the Revolutionary War.  Being descended from Simon Bennett and Big John McDuffie who fought for the Confederacy, I respect them as my ancestors. I remember what my dad told my older brother before he went to Vietnam. You don't want to be at the losing end of a war.

I've wondered what the men and women who lived through those times would have thought of the people today trying to explain their times. The Civil War was "a rich man's war and a poor man's fight".

I grew up in a military town so I have considered myself "Southern Lite". I learned a military culture and attitude. I feel pride in my Southern roots. More so than my English roots in that I live in the South. I have first cousins who live in Minnesota and upstate New York. They don't identify with the South.

I talk and act like I stepped out of the swamp at times. I had my schoolteacher handwriting and my actual handwriting. Well I have my schoolteacher speech too. Since I have been writing, my speech has taken on a more country sound. The voice in Charlotte Moore's books is very accurate.

The temperaments of the people reflect the area. In the book by Charlotte Moore, I like where one character makes sure the husband of a woman killed does not hear about a plan to entrap the culprit. They are not afraid of the character spoiling the plans. They are afraid of that one character catching the culprit and exacting his own punishment on the killer.  Revenge is not exclusively a Southern thing.

Anyway, Charlotte Moore has created some good reading. It also shows our good side.

I always liked how this house set just before the land rolls to the East in Macon Georgia. It is located on High Street.

Friday, June 16, 2017

Five Weird Things About Me

I've been invited by Barbara who writes the blog Life & Faith Caneyhead in a little grown-up but not Adult truth or dare. What makes me weird.

It is listing five things that are weird about me. After I list those five things, I'm supposed to challenge five more people.

1. I almost always have a dog in the car. Different dogs for different journeys.

2. I try to recycle everything. Every once in awhile I throw away glass or paper and say to myself, "I'll save the world tomorrow."

3. I will wash out pretty containers and save them for a good use until they hit critical mass and then I toss them.

4. I would rather work outside than inside.

5. My house on a good day is disheveled. Too little time and if I got extra time, it is not spent on housecleaning. I believe in feeling too good to go to work. The heck with sick days.

It didn't take me too long to create a list. That is not a good sign.

The five I challenge are on the honor system.  If you make a list, leave me a link or message in the comments. I'm not spending as much time on the internet. Sometimes I get up and stay busy with keeping my household going. It keeps the folks living here content.

And of course, share the fun and challenge five more.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

And when the bough breaks

I had a big limb break on an old Pecan tree last night. It was a healthy limb. Half of the tree is dead. It will take about twenty years for the tree to slowly die. Did you know Pecan trees can live 300 years. I have some volunteer trees that I plan to splice limbs of the old tree on. It has good nuts. My brother took the day to pop in for a visit and cleared the limb for me.

Today is just a scattered group of thoughts.

What is with all these gross pictures. One sign of a clickfarm are all the intestinal worms, a grossly obese Amish woman,  some sexy chicks with a salacious offer, unknown websites to visit. But on twitter, the one I find really gross are the blackheads. I've been muting and blocking these folks. I figure they are clickfarm baits. My question is why would they use these pictures?

Well I googled. I only found one article. The article was on a dubious site in that the ads had the following. How to fix crepey skin with a picture of very wrinkled skin on a woman's legs. Or How to keep your vagina young with a nubile young body and a disembodied hand pushing her panties down on one side.

Another had a woman and man in bed with the comment, who needs a man with these nine appliances. I hope some of those appliances would keep the yard mowed or the car gassed up or cut a limb up and remove from the driveway.

But the one that gave me pause was an ad on how to mail infectious agents. I've heard of mailing cookies and how to pack them. But I don't think I have ever needed to mail an infectious agent. It reminds me of when a child returned to school after having strept throat and hugged my neck. She was surprised I knew she had had strept throat. Strept throat has an odor.

A friend posed the question about what we did before Google. Well for one thing, we did not know as much. And we did not spend so much time reading about tangents. I do know when I see all those worms or blackheads to exit out. Not much information here folks, nothing you want to see for sure. I don't care if they say if is a safe thrill from a terror. I've seen a worm and popped a blackhead. I consider the worm in the garden good news.

According to the dubious website I visited, the psychology is similar to why we like to ride a roller coaster. The thrill and fear factor while in a safe environment is fun. So in a perverse way, unappetizing pictures are loathsome but a type of thrill that is safe.

But there are some good places on the web I saw today.





And these are some pictures from my iPhone I took with my dog's evening time stroll. The first set of pictures are lovely things. The second set which I will give a blank spot before are of one of the fly catcher's outside my house which is interesting and loathsome. I live next to a horse farm. Frankly, I feel some pity for the flies. It's a shame I can't catch and release them. Preferably at the horse farm's front porch. But down the road in a wooded area would also be a good location. Lot's of good food for what roams or flies wild there.

Blossoms all rolled up

Blossom unfurled

In the Midday Heat.

Just a bit Closer

Buds unfurling
Wild Trumpets Shouting

Morning Shot of Tractor in newly plowed field

Evening Sky on Fire

For a loathsome thrill..

The small flecks are gnats which are a type of  fly

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Good night Midnight Rider.

There is so much to learn about things by observation. Have you ever noticed someone post a profile picture of themselves sticking their tongue out. What are your impressions or expectations? Maybe the Rolling Stones...

There have been two funerals today. I attended neither but both men were a part of my life.

One is Gregg Allman of the Allman brother's fame. I never saw the band. Although I lived close enough to watch a free concert in the park; I was a little young to make it with friends there.  As his name became synonymous with drug use, I did not have that much interest in him.

I've been reading Gregg Allman's book "My Cross To Bear". It's a good read. I'm not surprised that he is an intelligent person. I have much more sympathy for drug and alcohol addictions as I have gotten older. I never drank in that I thought it was inherited. I read a statistic one time that if they treated alcoholics for depression, about 60 percent sobered up. I do think there is some self medication. Gregg Allman described the addiction as a wild cat let loose inside your body. With alcohol and the drugs, he could quieten the animal for awhile.

Gregg Allman clearly worshiped his older brother Duane who died in a motorcycle accident at the age of 24 in 1971. Twenty two year old Gregg Allman had the wherewithal to pursue a career. That good judgement is evident where as a 20 year old kid he knew to return to California to fulfill a contract obligation for the band. His band mates were ready to ignore the consequences but Gregg obviously understood how badly it would have hurt them.

Autobiographies appeal to me. Sure no one tells what a creep they were or the more sensitive areas of their lives. I read Kitty Kelley's biography of Nancy Reagan. It was meant to be salacious. Although I was not a fan of the Reagan presidency at that time; I did sense it was so unfair. So the fact I purchased the book for a quarter at a yard sale gave me some satisfaction. I noticed so many of the books at yard sales and used book counters.

What I like about autobiographies is that they weave a story of a life but if you reflect, there is so much more they share.  Gregg battles shyness most of his life. This explains a distance I always noticed when he spoke to the media. You could hear his voice in the writing.

His book is an engrossing read. As an artist, he discusses how it took experience to sing well, play an instrument well or write a great song.

The other funeral was for a former teacher, James Franklin Stewart. He was Mr. Popularity at the high school I attended. For one year he taught school and he was my teacher. Later he went to law school and moved to Los Angeles in hopes of breaking into the film industry. He was semi-successful but made his living as an attorney.

Besides having a huge crush on the man, he is probably a big reason I went to college. My senior year of high school, I wavered on going. It is one thing I have done in my life that seemed like a mistake at the time. But looking back, it improved my life immensely.  He was close in age to me and someone I admired. Although he was a Rhode's scholar; he was teaching school to support himself before his next big step in life.

For me, I taught school for the same reason. I was unable to take the next big step. My younger sister had been diagnosed with schizophrenia. My poor parents could not handle me floundering. So I took the safe route which actually has benefited me and my family.

The teacher was James Franklin Stewart. I would have gone to his funeral. I could have lined up in Macon to pay my respects to Gregg Allman. But I took care of the living today. Both had an affect on my life. Allman influenced the zeitgeist of my day. Mr. Stewart showed me a real person who had gone to college. I could see myself in that world.

I've always liked John Donne's poem, No Man is an Island. This is taken from https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/island.html

'No Man is an Island'

No man is an island entire of itself; every man 
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; 
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe 
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as 
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine 
own were; any man's death diminishes me, 
because I am involved in mankind. 
And therefore never send to know for whom 
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. 

Olde English Version
No man is an Iland, intire of itselfe; every man
is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine;
if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe
is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as
well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine
owne were; any mans death diminishes me,
because I am involved in Mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

Devotions upon Emergent Occasions
John Donne 


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