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A Fortunate Stroke of Serendipity

I do not think that a turtle or a tortoise is a pet.  It seems to me that a pet is an animal that comes when called, and seems to have some recognition of living with someone.  Chere is very independent – as independent as an animal can be, living confined in a habitat.

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Thinking About Thinking

The internet definition (not the best resource in the world) of thinking / thought is: the process of using one’s mind to consider or reason about something; using thought or rational judgment; intelligent.

 I’ve been thinking about what constitutes thought.  We humans think. (Well, some of us think; I’m not so sure about others.)  We can problem solve.  (Again, some of us … )  Problem solving is thinking.  Do “dumb” animals think?  And, why do we call them “dumb animals?”  I’m writing, today, to see if I can puzzle through what I consider thinking.  Nothing scientific, you understand.  Just my thoughts on what it is that constitutes thinking.

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I’m 84, Now

After thinking about what to write in the BLOG, this week, I discarded many topics.  Shall I write about our Nation’s Independence?  Shall I write about the assault that is happening to my country?  Is that too political?  And I promised – no politics.  As a character in one of my favorite Hallmark movies (Rip in Time) says, “When we fought for our independence, it was really just a theory – democracy; at the time, it seemed like a grand experiment — we didn’t know if we would survive . . . as a people . . . as a country.”

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Rocky Weekend

What does it take to move ten yards (or almost twelve ton) of rock from the driveway to the right places in the west side yard, the east side yard, and the back where Larry’s vegetable garden used to be?  Rock – first of all; machines, shovels, rakes, wheelbarrows, lots of cold water to drink, and workers with a strong work ethic and lots of muscles!

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An Interesting Week

This has been a very interesting week.  It is hot.  Alexa says that today’s temperature is 99 – and, it’s only June.  Only mid-June, and it’s 99!

You know how it is when a friend calls and tells you something you really don’t want to hear?  Sometimes, this premonition washes over you, and you know the friend is going to say something sad.  I remember talking with a neighbor while having coffee, and “that” feeling washed over me.  She told me that her husband, a prominent pediatric physician, was an alcoholic.  She went on to describe situations she encountered as a result of his drunkenness.  I didn’t want to sit there and listen – but I did.  Clearly, she needed to talk.  It helped me, in future situations with other people, to just be quiet and listen.  And, if you knew me, just being quiet and listening is not, generally, my strong suit.

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Nothing But Pictures

This week, I thought I’d show you spring in my yard.  Thanks to Larry, who spent three years planning and executing the plan for the flower gardens in the front yard, the plants that have been here for most of that time are starting to bloom.

The spirea bush has been in its location for years. Larry and I always had a difference of opinion – is it or is it not called bridal wreath?
Close up of the bridal wreath (my preferred name).
The mullein is plentiful, this year. Sometimes, the flower stalk will reach the roof line of the house. The wrens will eat the tiny seeds later in the year.
The only flowering plants in the back yard. Bryan and I transplanted Larry’s bed of iris two years ago. Lots of friends took pieces and they are now starting to blossom in their yards.
More of Larry’s iris.
The climbing rose has buds of red on them. Larry always wanted red roses against the split rail fence.
Giant lupine – my addition to the garden last year from seeds given to me by New Mexico friend, Chris. I have never seen lupine this large before!

I’ll leave you with a story about these flower beds.  Larry planned to have flowers in the yard.  He planned to put the beds in the back yard, but I was able to convince him that the front yard would be better.  We are in the front yard every day; not so with the back yard.  So, he did.

Planning and executing this project was a three-year event.  The first year, we drove throughout the metro area to see what plants bloom when.  The second year, he spent double digging (French intensive gardening) the beds.

Double-digging – that means that you dig off the top twelve inches of soil and set it aside.  Next, you dig down another twelve inches and turn  over the soil.  Then, the top twelve inches is returned to its place with “stuff and junk” (my words) that will make the plants grow.  And, by the way, this is how he prepared his seven twenty-by-four foot vegetable beds in the back yard.

Finally, the third year involved buying the plants and putting them into their places, according to the his plan.  In one of the many gardening catalogs, Larry found a salmon-colored iris that was large and beautiful.  Larry really loved that iris but felt that he just couldn’t spend the $40 for the tuber.  $40 would now be about $80, I suspect.

I cautiously and not too kindly reminded him that he had just spent three years of his life planning, digging, and planting the beds. He WAS going to spend the $40 for that iris.  So, he did.  And, surely enough, it became one of the showcase plants in his collection.  It will bloom a little later in the spring; I’ll try to remember to show you

There are promises of other blossoms, buds just waiting to pop.  Among those are the cottonwood tree kernels that pop and shed cotton ALL over the neighborhood.  So, about now, I pray for soft, gentle rains each day to make the cotton stick to itself, fall to the ground, and not blow about the neighborhood.

I hope you have enjoyed the brief tour of Larry’s gardens; there will be more to come.

Be Saafe and Be Well.

The Cranky Crone

Thoughtful comments are greatly appreciated.

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The Unthinkable

This may be the most difficult BLOG I’ve ever written.  In fact, it may be the most difficult writing I’ve ever done.  And, I’ve resigned my thinking that after reading this BLOG, some of you may never want to read another BLOG of mine.  But, I do hope you will bear with me.

Larry’s black iris.

To not know what has transpired in the small Texas town this past week, one would need to have been living in a gopher’s hole.  What transpired there I can’t discuss; except to say that it was an unthinkably, horrific act by someone who must have been extremely deranged.  And, it wasn’t the first; there have been so many.  So many incidents.  So much human life, gone.  So many humans who have assumed they have the right to take the life of many other human beings.  Some deaths who have occurred one at a time.  So many that have occurred in mass murders.  And, we are told by those “in the know” that there will be more.

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Where Was Moses When the Lights Went Out?

 

Whenever we had a power outage, Larry would ask this question.           I think it was something that was a habit in his family, but I don’t know that as an absolute fact. The answer always was, “down in the cellar eating sauerkraut.” Yesterday, we had a relatively unexpected winter storm (it is, after all, May 20, five days after we could “safely” put in bedding plants); but, nevertheless, we had a wet, heavy, snow storm that lasted all day and into the night.

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WATCHMAN

“I’m having the WATCHMAN procedure,” I say to friends.  And, collectively, they say “Huh?”  “It’s been advertised on TV.”  “I’ve never seen it.”

WATCHMAN really has been advertised on TV, discussed as a procedure for the patient who has AFIB.  A one-­time procedure to eliminate the occurrence of stroke.  (Anyone interested can find lots about the WATCHMAN on the web.)

It is important to note here that IT DOES NOT CURE AFIB.  Understand that – it DOES NOT cure AFIB, but it is important to NOT HAVE STROKES.  So, when Erin, my cardiologist, recommended it, it seemed practical for me.  So, I chose to have the procedure.  However, it is a bit more complicated that I first thought it would be.

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A Few Pennies

I’ll tell you up front – this is going to be a rant!  I cannot believe that it is happening.  The first time I became aware of this practice was in Kearney, Nebraska.  In a restaurant.  At the Red Lobster, to be exact.  I don’t know if it was the practice of that local business or if it is a practice throughout the organization.  Then, it happened again, today, in a local restaurant that I frequent when I have an opportunity.  When you live from hand-to-mouth, every penny counts.