Head-dibs

Wonder what it is . . . Coming Together! Ta-da!  Done. 'cept for the wood-chopping part.

Cleaned out the garage (mostly) and got my home "gym" in working order. Fully equipped with Olympics weights, rower, elliptical, Tower of Power and standard lawn equipment (mower not pictured). No membership fees! The garden is going in some places, not so good in others. Half the beans I planted have not sprouted yet and only a fraction of the cucumbers of appeared. No squash have sprouted, so the only ones going are the zucchini's I bought that were already started. The cabbage (below), tomatoes, lettuce and broccoli are going well. I am thinking of making seed tape and doing a row of carrots. 

I am working through some things, given all life's changes in the last few weeks. This virus thing is nothing compared to what I've encountered and the very least of my worries. Don't get me started on what I think of this virus thing.  A metaphorical tornado swept through life and I'm doing my best put on my bravest face. The destruction is both deep and wide. Then along came to a very real tornado in the midst of everything else going on. I spent a few days cutting up trees, working and waiting patiently for my garden to set (which it has) and sprout (which it is doing).  My wife is working on a literary analysis of a section of Ann Petry's 1946 novel, "The Street".  The novel opens with descriptions of the wind-swept city street, which is an implied metaphor of what the main character feels inside.  There is not much more to say except I thought of these two songs:    and the bluesy sound of To conclude:  We can onl

So I woke up at 5:45 a.m. to the sound of rushing wind and rain and that dreaded sound that can't be described. A few minutes later, this happened. No damage done to our house, everyone is safe. Just a pile of trees across the rear fence and damages around the neighborhood. Guess who bought a new chain saw today?

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Got half the garden installed. It's not a great pic, but I titled one long row and installed a fence for the climbing vines to scale (saves on ground space and makes harvesting much easier): Cucumbers, zucchini, yellow crooked-neck squash, butternut squash.  Tomorrow it'll be broccoli, lettuce, bell peppers, tomatoes and cabbage. Tending my garden.

I can sum mine up in one word: "crucible." I've lost my job.  I am no longer a doctoral student. Our family is going through massive emotional upset due to a family member's attempted suicide and because she is underage, created quite an intense DSS firestorm for us.  I am embracing the suck. You know what? The world is changing and we are doing things we've never done before. Or in a while, at least. America's houses have never been cleaner. The DSS firestorm is dying down and in a few months, she'll age out of the system. What happens next is anyone's guess. Hearts are broken, nonetheless.  I am preparing to break in a new tiller on some ground for a garden. Got us some tomatoes, cabbage, cucumbers, zucchini, squash, lettuce, broccoli, beans. Might post some pics of the before-and-aftermath. The sun is shining like all is well with the world, and if you stop and sit out on your porch or in your gazebo or in your swing or whatever you

I love magic and enjoy performing a trick or two myself from time to time . . . but it's been a while. Nevertheless, my love for magic never dies. This is not magic. It's pure entertainment by the greatest.