Gardener’s Diary

Pruning, osmocoting, Hollytoning and mulching are done, now comes the fun part, weed and fast feed. I paid way too much for Miracle Grow at a local garden center, but, what the heck, they have to eat, too.
The daffodils were a big disappointment, although made up for by beautiful yellow and red tulips, wish I could remember where I got them.
Phil and Beth may have been right about the fairy rose, I clipped off a hundred or more seedpods last Fall, and if foliage is an indicator, it should be very pretty this summer.
The beach rose is also doing very well, but no sign of foxglove and only one lupine seems to have survived.
The garden has been pretty this spring, but will need summer color. Toward that end, I let myself get swept away in a wave of optimism and planted a Clematis by the front fence.
I’m especially happy with the small, low-maintenance perennial rock garden I’ve been working on for the last two years at Peter’s house. Everything, even Emmeline’s beloved Basket of Gold, looks healthy. The front spigot, necessary for watering, exploded over the winter, but neighbor John fixed it this week.
No blooms again on the peony this year, alas.


In a news conference held yesterday, the purpose of which was to ask reporters to “leave the family alone”:
Jessica Klinestiver, sister of Army Pfc. Lynndie England – the woman seen in the notorious photos of the humiliated Iraqi prisoners – informed the world that she’s “proud of her sister and ‘anybody else in the [372th].'”
Will someone please explain to l’il Miss Jessica and her kinfolk the difference between family loyalty and shameless self-promotion?
Not to mention the difference between right and wrong.

Damned Flu

Late Tuesday afternoon, feeling a little tired, I stopped at Craigville Beach on the way from the office to mind the grandkids.
By the time I got to their house, I was a trainwreck.
My grandchildren hovered around while my DIL tried to convince me to get my germ-ridden self the heck out of her house. The oldest, bless his good little heart, tried to convince her that they could “take care of Grandma” while she went about her business, then he made me the sweetest card.

Continue reading Damned Flu

“Intent”: the New Twinkie Defense?

Yet another incomprehensible verdict from a jury wrapped around the new favorite argument of defense lawyers evereywhere: to convict, the State needs to prove intent.
In other words, a motive, a murder weapon, even a confession are no longer sufficient proof of wrongdoing: the State now has to prove that the person who murders really “intended” to do it all along.

Continue reading “Intent”: the New Twinkie Defense?