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The 1800Junk guys did a great job today, removed about 3/4 of the old “stuff” from the basement. They filled their truck, so I booked them for this time next week to finish up.
Another floor person dropped by to take measurements. Meanwhile, I made a quick run to Mahoney’s, to another floor store and to a stone place across town for marble chips to put around the mailbox, started cleaning the basement and planted a couple of evening primrose, the kind with tall stems and bright yellow flowers that look like giant buttercups.
I’m looking forward to a nice dinner with friends this evening to celebrate a birthday and maybe a movie or cards afterwards.

Far be it for me to commit the unseemly act of rejoicing at another’s misfortune, so I will resist the temptation to do so.
Besides, there are people who always manage to emerge, zombie-like, from catastrophe, so celebrating what is no doubt their merely temporary comeuppance would be an exercise in futility.
That being said, I was admittedly ecstatic when I read that the local technology council folded up its tent this week, that its director has been laid off and that its president was referred to as an “empty suit”.
In all charity, let me say instead that the humbling experience of an ignominious public failure should be a valuable character-building exercise for these two particular people, who have potential to be fine human beings if they would learn that their morning ablutions do not and never will include the excretion of ice cream.
Let’s pray that they emerge from this as better, kinder, less ruthless, less arrogant and more generous toward their fellow creatures. If nothing else, I suspect this would make them happier and give them greater peace and personal satisfaction, and bring joy to their families and loved ones.

James had his tonsils out today.
Bis got a good report from her doctor this week.
The truck passed its annual inspection today. And talk about excellent customer service: Gill’s on 6A in Orleans. I stopped there on the way to work, and they told me the best time of day for an inspection was mid-afternoon. I came back around 2:30, they took the truck right away, and I was back in the office before 3.
I think the Heinz mayo ad with the gay couple and their daughter is cool, man, cool.
This week’s User Group meeting, which had been planned months in advance, fell by chance on a clear night, in between a monsoon the night before and showers this evening, both of which I managed to dodge.
Oh, sometimes, it takes very little to make one happy.

I remember the day Carolyn asked me if I wanted her earth boxes. She’d purchased them a couple of years before, they were recommended by one of the Master Gardeners who taught the class we attended at the Fairgrounds.
I loaded the boxes on my truck but felt a little strange about it, telling myself that I was only keeping them until Carolyn got better.
Of course, she never did. She was absolutely right to give away the things that she didn’t absolutely need, and I’m sure that each gift was as carefully selected for her other friends, each in accordance with that person’s interests and hobbies.
At first, I didn’t even want to think about what to plant in the earth boxes. I was upset and even angry about Carolyn’s passing, and they were a reminder of that loss.
I got advice at a couple of nurseries, who recommended that I not try tomatoes or any other plant requiring staking.
Earlier this year, I’d bought some gorgeous seeds, or at least, they were seeds in gorgeous packets. I can’t even remember where I found them, which is a shame.
One of the packets was labeled “Grandmother’s cutting garden”. I filled in the earth boxes with good soil and planted the seeds, much too heavily, but that’s how it goes some times. The seeds quickly sprouted and at this point, some are over a foot high. The carnations look like they’d bloom if we had a couple of sunny days.
Flowers aren’t as practical as vegetables, but I hope Carolyn would be pleased that her earth boxes are being used, and will be used for years to come.
The cicadas are slowing down, and I would guess that by this time next week, they’ll be gone.

The brouhaha about the alleged pregnancy pact at Gloucester High seems to have finally lost its legs, but from the amount of media hubbub, you’d think these 17 kids had conspired to assassinate the President of the United States.
So, 17 girls at the same high school are pregnant. My, my, my, the world will certainly stop turning, the sun will rise in the West and a meteor the size of Rhode Island is sure to hit the earth any day now.
Wouldn’t it be nice if that meteor would land on some of the stupid people who write for the newspapers, radio and TV?

The Gates Foundation doesn’t have to look as far as Africa to find populations suffering from devastating preventable diseases: kids in American inner cities and rural areas like Appalachia are every bit as deserving.

Great article by Glenn Greenwald in Salon.

I started hearing about the AFSCME/MoveOn “Alex” ad on talk radio yesterday and this morning, followed a link from Jeff Jacoby‘s column in the Globe to the ad itself.
I expected a lot from “Alex”: conservative talk show host Jay Severin characterized it as a “killer”, worth five million votes, the most effective political ad since the famous “Daisy” that some believe sunk Goldwater’s bid for the Presidency.
Instead, I found the ad a turnoff, staged and insincere. The adult female character comes across as a whining, spoiled brat exuding entitlement, as if she were an adoptive parent rubbing it in at the expense of child’s birth mother: “You can’t have him”.
Besides, as mothers of tiny children will learn to their chagrin, kids have a way of leading their own lives and making their own decisions. Warriors are born to pacifists, and the reverse. It’s part of Nature’s way.

The cicadas have migrated in force from the other side of route 151 to this neighborhood. There are dozens of exoskeletons attached to leaves on the oak tree, but unlike the gypsy moths, no apparent damage, at least not yet.
They fly around like clumsy hummingbirds; some seem to like to sit on the roof. I can hear their individual sounds, something like an “ee-yoh”. Collectively, they are deafening, although not enough to drown out conversations.
A rabbit moved in, and the other evening, it sat in the same spot for a good half hour, even ignoring a cat that had wandered into the yard.

My real estate situation is not the usual. I own a house, but don’t live there. I lease from an extended family member, who basically has been renting this place out for about half of market rate for the last ten years.
As a result, he’s lost a lot of dough and at this point, just about breaks even, so understandably, he’s not willing to put money into the house. As a result, while I have the privacy of single family home living, something I do not take for granted, I do live with a certain amount of squalor: bad windows, a deck that’s falling apart, carpets that are beyond cleaning and a chaotic back yard.

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