All posts by Michele

How Does Your Garden Grow

Potatoes, corn, squash, tomatoes, beans, lettuce, green pepper and cucumbers

Potatoes, corn, squash, tomatoes, beans, lettuce, green pepper and cucumbers

Planted beets and carrots for the third time. We have been so focused on indoor projects, that we neglected the garden. The electric fence is not working. Deer, rabbits and who knows what other creatures have been feasting on the snow peas, bean plants, spinach. Cleared out all the carrot and beet seedlings. Last summer, I spent a lot more time in the garden and brought Hank with me. He did his rounds sniffing, peeing and generally spreading his dog essence every which way. I like to think that this was critical in keeping the interlopers at bay.

I watched The Patience Stone last night and was entranced by the acting and dialogue. It was a complicated story told in the simplest fashion. The film relied on a beautiful actress whose expressiveness made reading the sub-titles almost unnecessary. I cannot remember her name, but know that she is Persian. It plumbed provocative issues about gender, sexuality, religion, morality and politics. The setting is probably Afghanistan although no country is identified and no names are used. The main character is taking care of her husband who is in a vegetative state after being shot in the neck. He is a rebel fighter and she goes to great lengths to hide him from harm. She uses this opportunity to talk to him in a way that was not possible before his injury. Clearly, it is an oppressive relationship that now benefits from this woman’s need to tell her husband all of her secrets. He is a captive audience who, because of his physical state, listens completely and non-judgmentally. At least it looks that way. The Patience Stone is one of the best films I have watched in years.

 

Hank’s Kidz

Where are the kidz?

Where are the kidz?

This is Hank sleeping and dreaming about Drize-a-roo 2014.  He spent an entire week learning the likes and dislikes of each kid. Who likes to play like a dog. Who likes to teach lessons old-school fashion. Who likes to run up and down the driveway. Who doesn’t mind wet, smelly paws and drooling on their laps. Who doesn’t get tired of non-stop petting. Who enjoys looking but not touching so much. It was dog heaven…..

Garden Notes

Lettuce, peas are growing in abundance. The second planting of beets and carrots failed. Tomatoes are thriving, lots of yellow flowers, no fruit. Spinach eaten by a big, fat hare. Growing again. Potatoes look great. Corn growing slowly about 4 inches high. Beans growing slowly. Cucumbers and green pepper plants started to grow after heavy rain last week. Will try a third planting of carrots, beets and brocoli. Henry Homeyer recommends planting for fall harvest.

I have been thinking about Caledonian-Record ongoing articles about the “undesirable” individuals living in St. Johnsbury. The Selectboard just learned that Vermont CARES distributes 75 thousand needles every year. Fifteen needles were found in parks and on roadsides during the year. Not a bad ratio. Simmer down Selectboard. There was a provocative letter to the Editor from an individual who tends to lean towards Tea Party philosophies. Slammed the Selectboard for passing the “Profanity” ordinance. Asked them to define profanity. Made a point that St. Johnsbury Downtown went to hell in a handbasket with the closing of Hovey’s Department store and the Green Mountain Fruit Market. Shamed the individuals who are calling out Depot Square tenants. Stop blaming the poor. It’s so easy, they don’t have time to represent themselves politically on any level. Too busy getting surviving the day.

The Caledonian-Record has been

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed

 Woke with the birds and the rising sun this morning. Could not sleep. A sad day at work. And then I found this poem by Mary Oliver.
I will walk Hank and spend time with my friend Karla in Glover. We are visiting the Bread and Puppet Museum and Love’s Labour Lost Garden. Balm for my weary heart.

It Was Early

Mary Oliver

It was early, which has always been my hour to begin looking at the world
and of course, even in the darkness, to begin listening into it,
especially under the pines where the owl lives and sometimes calls out
as I walk by, as he did on this morning. So many gifts!
What do they mean?  In the marshes where the pink light was just arriving
the mink with his bristle tail was stalking the soft-eared mice,
and in the pines the cones were heavy, each one ordained to open.
Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.
Little mink, let me watch you.
 Little mice, run and run.
Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open.
I wonder how you awoke this morning? Did you have doubts of your kind?  Perhaps there are certain politicians whose rhetoric exasperates you, or the latest tally from terrorist bombing correlates with how many fewer times you will express today.  Maybe you are thinking of the tender children who cannot run away from abusing adults, who could not run away from their circumstances either.
What if, as we think of how we are hunted and haunted each in our own way, we choose this today to be blessed.  We watch the harm, we watch the fear, and we watch the chase, which is a dance, isn’t?
Then in response, we choose to bless the world and hold all lives, mean and small, knowing that the human heart may yet open.  Maybe today.