On Buck Lake

Rigging the Sailing Dinghies

 




 
 
   

 
 

Red Currant Bush Object of Unfair Criticism

                                                                                      

Previously I kvetched that the Flowering Red Currant bush on East Hill looked pretty sorry with its spare blossoms against the no-show leaves.

 I forgot one thing.

Some plants flower first and leaf out later.

Having redeemed itself after our warm day, the Flowering Red Currant on the hill deserves some recompense.

Justice required that I make amends by showing a new picture of the bush with its now fulsome leaves. Climbing the hill, however, seemed a bridge too far even in a just cause, and so I settled for a nearby currant bush.

This bush, standing on the corner of The Shed for All Time (so named because it is built to standards stipulated for public buildings like hospitals) illustrates the fact that Flowering Red Currant bushes the county over have at last come into their own and do indeed have leaves.

Redheads

These two little girls are not the only redheads in the extended family. The list is long -- going back to Eric the Red to be sure.

Grandfather Aune in Trondheim, it is said, greeted his baldness with joy so much did he abjure his red hair. Cousin Thelma in this country welcomed going gray because it meant that her bright red hair could more easily be toned down to strawberry blond.

Ella and Karen Fae, seen here with their maternal grandmother Karen, are obviously blessed with hair color in shades of red they're lucky to have and, we can only hope, will be pleased to keep.

Then and Now

Look at the tulips along the shed wall as snapped in April a couple years ago. How dismal this year's wall looks by comparison -- as you can plainly see (below). More weeds than tulips. Well, who would get out there in the rain and cold and dig in the dirt, do you think?  Not I. As a constant gardener, I would make a good bungee jumper.

 

Yes, it's Great, but, Oh, the Anxiety!

Neighbors cheering in the streets! Hip hop music blaring from pickup trucks! Children screaming for joy! Teenagers banging the drums! Parents throwing a party! Churches tolling the bells! Idiots running down the pier and jumping into the Sound!

What is going on?                      

The thermometer reached the mid-60s today.

Well, yeah, in describing this day of slight warmth I may have used a bit more parsley than warranted by the chicken, but the exaggeration can be chalked up to a March and April colder than February.

The truth is, rather than celebrate, we get anxious. In Puget Sound country when we see the sun we shield our eyes (it's so bright!), we run inside, and we start worrying. How long will it last?

In the present case, not long. Tomorrow's forecast? Sunless. Cold.

Maggie's New Coat

How cold has it been, you ask? Well, Maggie in all his eleven years has never owned a coat.

This year he has one only because we misjudged spring. By a long shot.

Also, he hadn't had a haircut in years and didn't need a coat before now.

As a long-time shaggy dog, he sure could have used that extra hair for a few more months.

Everybody says they like this close-shorn look, that he's a better looking dog. He sure shivered before he got that coat, though.

The Aphorists of Verse (It's Still Poetry Month)

I am partial to the "aphorists of verse," those poets who write short poems, from Pamela A. McGoldrick to Kay Ryan, from Emily Dickinson to A.R. Ammons.

I also favor poems about cats, from T.S. Eliot's Gus: The Theatre Cat to Pamela A. McGoldrick's Territorial Preserve.

But this post is about Kay Ryan's work as described in the NYRB article by Helen Vendler:

 

The Art of Flamingo Watching by Helen Vendler | The New York Review of Books.

More Poems for April's Poetry Month

                 ROY CAMPBELL

      On Some South African Novelists

You praise the firm restraint with which they write–
I'm with you there, course:
They use the snaffle and the curb all right,
But where's the bloody horse? 

                On the Same

Far from the vulgar haunts of men
Each sits in her 'successful room",
Housekeeping with her fountain pen
And writing novels with her broom.

 

   ELIZABETH WORDSWORTH

              Good and Clever

If all the good people were clever,
   And all clever people were good,
The world would be nicer than ever
   We thought that it possibly could.

But somehow 'tis seldom or never
   The two hit it off as they should,
The good are so harsh to the clever,
   The clever, so rude to the good!

So friends, let it be our endeavor
   To make each by each understood;
For few can be good, like the clever,
   Or clever, so well as the good.

Forever June

Despite enhancement and brightening, this photo cannot disquise the poor showing of this Flowering Red Currant.

It helped that I jiggled the camera. Blurred blossoms hide the lacunae of leaves, lessening the gaps of daylight.

Meteorologists of the handwringing persuasion foresee in our cold spring harbingers of things to come: wetter, windier winters (but a trifle warmer). And cooler summers: cheerless, sunless, overcast, cloudy -- you know, forever June.

It's Still April, Still Poetry Month, and Here, More from Emily Dickinson

A face devoid of love or grace,
A hateful, hard, successful face,
A face with which a stone
Would feel as thoroughly at ease
As were they old acquaintances,–
First time together thrown.

                    --  Emily Dickinson

 

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,–
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do
If bees are few.

                      --  Emily Dickinson

 

I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.

                    --  Emily Dickinson

How to Design a Neighborhood for Happiness by Jay Walljasper

How to Design a Neighborhood for Happiness by Jay Walljasper.

Today, Poems by Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953)

On a General Election

The accursèd power which stands on Privilege
(And goes with Women, and Champagne and Bridge)
Broke–and Democracy resumed her reign:
(Which goes with Bridge, and Women and Champagne). 

 

On Mundane Acquaintances

Good morning, Algernon: Good morning, Percy.
Good morning, Mrs. Roebeck. Christ have mercy!

 

Fatigue

I'm tired of Love: I'm still more tired of Rhyme.
But Money gives me pleasure all the time.

 

Who Knocks? That April! (Emily Dickinson)

April is poetry month, and I am tardy with the poems because I got caught up in things of great consequence, be sure of that. So we shall begin with Emily Dickinson and, quite possibly, continue with Emily Dickinson. This first poem of hers has no title.

Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat–
You must have walked–
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the bird's;
The maples never knew
That you were coming,–I declare,
How red their faces grew!
But March, forgive me–
And all those hills
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.

Who knocks? That April!
Lock the door!
I will not be pursued!
He stayed away a year, to call
When I am occupied.
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame.
                            – Emily Dickinson

Breakthroughs

A few days ago, reading historian Bernard Lewis, I learned that there was a time in ancient history, between 600 and 300 BCE "when people in remote and apparently unrelated lands achieved major spiritual and intellectual breakthroughs. This was the time of Confucius and Lao-Tse in China, of Buddha in India, of Zoroaster or his major disciples in Iran, of the prophets of Israel, and the philosophers of Greece." 

All well and good. These names are as familiar to you as they are to me, I'm sure, but I, for one, could not say exactly what the major breakthrough were, and the author, bless his heart, took it for granted that I would need no further elucidation. So I looked up some stuff on the internet.

Zoroaster's disciples in Persia (now Iran) preached Zoroastrianism, the first major religion founded on monotheism. Some sources claim that Zoroastrianism transformed Western civilization because of its influence on the Abrahamic religions of Jews, Christians, and Muslims.

Thales, a Greek philosopher, explained nature by observation, a huge departure from just taking at face value the words of the whimsical gods for the whys and wherefores of the world.

Pythagoras, another Greek, gave us a mathematical theorem: In a right triangle, the square of the hypotenuse (that's the side opposite the right triange, but you knew that) is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides. Enough said.

Herodotus, yet another Greek, is called the Father of History. He tried to separate the true from the mythical and, importantly, he named his sources. If you read about Thermopylae in the 6th grade, you know his work. There are many more Greek philosophers who could be named here, but we must get on with this.

Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha, from India, founded Buddhism.

Confucius, from China, founded utilitarian philosophy, giving us practical maxims to live by.

Lao-Tse, also from China, founded Taoism.

I wore out before I got to the prophets of Israel.

Which Side Are You On?

House budget bill, H.R. 1 proposes cuts in the WIC program (nutrition for women, infants and children).  The WIC budget cut is a rider on the budget bill, that is, a proposal that would likely fail on its own but could succeed by riding on a big bill like H.R. 1.

A reaction to this proposal to starve the poor comes from the Rev. David Beckman, this year's World Food Prize laureate, who says, “We shouldn’t be reducing our meager efforts for poor people in order to reduce the deficit. They didn’t get us into this, and starving them isn’t going to get us out of it.”

Mark Bittman, food writer in the New York Times and author of many books about food, has a good deal to say on this subject; here are two paragraphs:

In 2010, corporate profits grew at their fastest rate since 1950, and we set records in the number of Americans on food stamps. The richest 400 Americans have more wealth than half of all American households combined, the effective tax rate on the nation’s richest people has fallen by about half in the last 20 years, and General Electric paid zero dollars in U.S. taxes on profits of more than $14 billion. Meanwhile, roughly 45 million Americans spend a third of their posttax income on food — and still run out monthly — and one in four kids goes to bed hungry at least some of the time.

 This is a moral issue; the budget is a moral document. We can take care of the deficit and rebuild our infrastructure and strengthen our safety net by reducing military spending and eliminating corporate subsidies and tax loopholes for the rich. Or we can sink further into debt and amoral individualism by demonizing and starving the poor. Which side are you on?

Exposing the Elites by Michael Knox Beran - City Journal

Exposing the Elites by Michael Knox Beran - City Journal.

Forecast: Cold Spring, Chilly Summer

 Our weather outlook for spring looks pretty grim.

That's a shivering Maggie in the picture. He looked like a miniature polar bear before the haircut.

As for the dismal lake picture, enough said.

My forecast is supported by the data (that's data with a long "a" by the way--none of this datta stuff if you please. (Is this chilly weather making me crabby what?)

The data are (yes, datum is, data are) as follows: as of March 22, we had 139 days with no temperatures over 55º while last year we had five of those relatively warm days.

Handwringers foresee the Northwest as a cold and rainy place as the rest of the world warms up. I mention that not as a charter member of the Lesser Puget Sound Society but as one who has always relied on the data (and the kindness of strangers, as Blanche DuBois would say).

EXCEPT THAT IT ROBS YOU OF WHO YOU ARE

Except that it robs you of who you are,
What can you say about speech?
Inconceivable to live without
And impossible to live with,
Speech diminishes you.
Speak with a wise man, there'll be
Much to learn; speak with a fool,
All you get is prattle.
Strike a half-empty pot, and it'll make
A loud sound; strike one that is full,
Says Kabir, and hear the silence.

 

                        Kabir (c. 1440-1518), translated from the Hindi
                                  by Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
                                   (The New York Review, April 7, 2011)
            

Old Dog, New Dog (Mag with haircut)

Things That Were Said, Things That were Read

"Don't tax you, don't tax me, tax that fellow behind that tree."

If the last eight years in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Iran -- and the previous 800 years in the Middle East -- demonstrate anything, it is that great powers cannot micromanage the affairs of small tribes. And when they try, they almost always fare badly. -- Foreign Policy

"The average high school kid today has the same level of anxiety as the average psychiatric patient in the early 1950s." -- Robert Leahy  

"Thank you for sending me your book, I shall lose no time in reading it." -- Benjamin Disraeli said it, but it has been credited to, among others, Mark Twain, Groucho Marx, Henry James, Maynard Keynes...

From a letter of recommenation: "You'll be lucky if you can get this man to work for you."