DB BFA

Beltane                                                                Full Last Frost Moon

I now have a full degree in dog barrier visualization, construction and maintenance.  A guest dog, Gertie from Denver, has discovered the joys of orchard exploration.  In her case she  cropped2011-04-20_0896crawls over the fence, runs over to the blue berry patches, jumps in and digs.  Furiously.  So.  In this instance a temporary barrier since said Denver dog returns home soon.

We have some metal roofing left over from project or another so two sheets of roofing now stand secured to the fence Gertie most loved to jump.  We test our barriers using the empirical method.  That is, we let Gertie out and see if she ends up in the orchard again.  If not, great.  If yes, back to the design.

After the barrier erection, I went into the MIA.  A panel explained an interactive art event that will take place at the MIA during the Northern Spark festival on June 4th.  I got a great idea from the lecture that I plan to turn into an effective Ai Weiwei protest.  More on that later.

Tonight I’m going to UTS (my seminary) for the final event of the year long mentoring I’ve done for Leslie.  With that event marking the end of that work and the session coming to an end next week, life will become less hectic.  I can relax into the garden and Latin since the summer pace of the Museum is slower, too.

Come on Guys.

Beltane                                                                                Full Last Frost Moon

file under:  Convenient

Sexual abuse by Roman Catholic priests in the United States is a “historical problem” that has largely been resolved and that never had any significant correlation with either celibacy or homosexuality, according to an independent report commissioned by Catholic bishops — and subjected to fierce attack even before its release on Wednesday.

The report blamed the sexual revolution for a rise in sexual abuse by priests, saying that Catholic clerics were swept up by a tide of “deviant” behavior that became more socially acceptable in the 1960s and ’70s.

As that subsided, and as the church instituted reforms in the 1990s and 2000s, the problem of priests acting as sexual predators sharply declined, according to the study by John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York.

A Northern Night

Beltane                                                                                      Full Last Frost Moon

The last legcom call of the session tonight.  I went into the Sierra Club office to make the call because I had to be in a meeting at 6 pm just down the block.  The legcom call is at 5pm.  Not enough time to make it into the city for a 6pm meeting.

I got a chili cheese dog (oh, I know…) and a blueberry smoothie at the Fast Freeze across the street from the Sierra Club offices.  Eating local.

The last meeting was interesting, but went over time.  I was glad when it ended.

I still had the drive back to Andover of course, but I have a new book on DVD, so I had a reward.  It’s a W.E.B. Griffith novel about the covert world.  He’s not very adroit at getting the backstory into the narrative, in essence he tells most of it rather than shows.  The real book starts somewhere well after the first few pages.

It was one of those northern nights when the modest heat of the day lingered atop the oncoming chill of the evening, a time when driving becomes mesmerizing, a trip back in time.  Nights spent cruising drive-ins, looking for girls.  Nights driving past the acres and acres of corn that grew in the fields that surrounded my hometown.  A night driving back to Kona from Kiluaea, a full moon in the sky and the air scented with jacaranda and jasmine.

Leslie

Beltane                                                                                  Full Last Frost Moon

Warm and warmer.  Vegetables getting a needed shot of sun and improved soil temps.  Mark cleared away all the limbs from the cedar butchery this morning.  Now the  northern part of the garden gets a full dose of sun from early morning through mid-to-late afternoon.

Spent most of the afternoon with Leslie, our last meeting.  We discussed the nature of evil, humanism, humanists, approaching the UU fellowship process (the process by which UU students become ordained) and various other matters.  Lasted until 2:30.  That means there is little time to get a nap in before the next to last legcom meeting tonight and the meeting of the Conservation Committee that I will also attend tonight.

Still working on the Ai Weiwei matter, though things have slowed down a bit as the Minnesota legislature has begun to hit its crescendo.

Andover Chain Saw Butchery (of a Cedar)

Beltane                                                                      Full Last Frost Moon

Taking the local this morning meant cutting down the second cedar trunk and limbing it.  Mark worked very hard yesterday moving the downed and limbed trunks and branches in the front yard.  He went to bed early and slept hard.  Kate, too.  She weeded and weeded yesterday.  Her body mechanics have gotten better so her glutes tire instead of her back becoming painful.

This run of warm days will accelerate the growth in the garden.  The first planting of lettuce is recognizable now and the spinach almost so.  No potatoes coming through yet but they need a soil temperature of plus 50 degrees, so they’ve probably been tool cold.  Just hope they haven’t rotted.  The beans are up, the onions, carrots, beets and asparagus, too.  A lot of yard clearing work, weeding, maintenance chores have gotten done and will get done over the next few weeks.  Having Mark to help really moves things along.

Now I go see Leslie for our last visit, then a couple of Sierra club meetings in the evening.  The legislature has begun to wind down, but there’s a distinct  possibility that it is not all over.  Not quite yet.

The Chain Saw

Beltane                                                                   Full Last Frost Moon

Instead of opening Ovid this morning, I opened the garage doors and took out the chain saw.  Checked the chain oil, thick almost like grease.  Added some.  Filled a measured quantity of oil in a squeeze bottle, poured into the one gallon gas can, added a gallon of fresh gas, shook the can and put the gas oil mixture in the chain saw.  With the choke out full, I put my toe through the handle, pressing the saw firmly onto the driveway, grabbed the pull and yanked up.  Sputter.  Pulled again.  Nothing.  Pushed the choke half way in, yanked again and that ear-splitting racket that pierces homes and exurban silence whined to life.

With the exception of one cedar trunk I’ve now downed, limbed and cut into smaller sections all of the damage from last November’s early, heavy snow.  The large cedar tree just off our deck is the only tree I’ll miss.  We nurtured it from a small shrub into a magnificent tree.  Though I’ll miss its 17 year journey with us, it does open up a lot of sun for the vegetable garden.  It would have been strategic to cut it down years ago, but it was a friend.

When I finished limbing the first cedar trunk, my arms grew tired.  I quit.  No using chain saws when tired.  Flesh and bone pose no obstacle to these tree fellers.

Woolly’s. Again.

 

Beltane                                                                      Full Last Frost Moon

The meeting last night.  The note written late last night did not do this meeting justice.  The guest, Jay, told stories of his father, a Metropolitan Life Insurance Executive who hated his job, kept a print of racing sailboats gunnels in the water as they rounded a turn across from his desk and retired, in 1959 at the age of 55, picked up the family, put them in the sail boat and made their way to Ft. Lauderdale where he had bought a house.   Jay’s father, he said, attracted trouble.  He had 25 diseases, sailed through four typhoons and two hurricanes and had numerous close calls while sailing.  Jay’s openness about his relationship with his father, “We disagreed on everything, except sailing.  Sailing we could be together, often without talking.” made many of us reflect on our fathers.  Few of us in the Woollies had dad’s with whom we had a positive bond.

Jay also spoke of two other powerful subjects.  The Gulf Stream, at points 40 miles wide and three miles deep, moving at 4 knots, keeping England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales and parts of Europe temperate rather than freezing, has a vitality and strength, a magnetic pull to sailors.  His father’s ashes were cast into the Gulf Stream as, Jay says, his, too, will be someday.

The second is his creative work which focuses on expressing the unrevealed, the dark places where we think we’ve been, but where we’ve actually only touched the surface.  Much like the ocean?

Scott told of his opportunity, turned his way by his ex-wife, also a drummer, to play percussion in an off-broadway musical beginning its initial work in Aspen this June.  It’s a 4 and 1/2 week gig, paid, and he gets to be with his son, Corey, at the same time.  The music is a blend of jazz and rock and roll, music Scott’s always wanted to play.

Mark O. goes under the knife today (nope, next Tuesday.  I stand corrected.) for a new knee and Jay does, too, to have a gall bladder removed.  Paul and Sarah Strickland have helped found an organization, 10,000 Friends of the Maine Coast, which has ambitions to create sustainable jobs and, perhaps, expand down the Eastern seaboard.  Frank took pot roast to a friend of Mary’s undergoing chemotherapy and plans to go back on Thursday with some more.  Tom Crane had weekend a crammed full of ex-spouse in-law’s and the ex-spouse at one point–of Roxann.  Bill spoke about Regina, the reality they have to face, the difficulties and blessings involved.  A tough place, full of paradox.  Brother Mark talked about reverse culture shock from his return, 22 years later, to the American mainland.  “America is such a virile place, bursting with energy.  Hard to absorb.  Yes.”

It was a strong meeting, full of feeling and heartbreak and joy and confusion.  Real life.

Woolly Mammoths

Beltane                                                                          Full Last Frost Moon

Woolly meeting at Scott Simpsons.  Yin took me around her whole property, showcasing her plants, talking about her plans.  Her Asian themed garden in front is a masterpiece, designed by her and realized by landscapers she trusts.  Yin also cooked Chinese spareribs, rice and made a Caesar salad.  We enjoyed it.  Bill, Frank, Mark, Scott, Paul, Mark Ellis, Tom, Warren and myself attended as well as a guest, a poet and novelist whose father sounded like a character worth knowing.

A soulful evening.  We talked of what we loved and of poetry and art.  Mark O. showed marbled paper he’s making, beautiful and read a poem about night on the river at Lock and Dam #1.   Bill read a free writing piece that showcased his wide ranging consciousness.  Paul quoted a John O’Donohue poem from his growing body of poetry committed to memory.  Scott read a poem he wrote for a friends faux wedding.

And, ta dah!  I read my first translation of a full story in Ovid’s Metamorphosis, Diana and Actaeon.  I didn’t read all of it, but enough.  It felt great.  Like I’d walked across a long bridge.

Horticulture

Beltane                                                              Waxing Last Frost Moon

Gardening commends itself in several ways, but two are most important to me.   Having life tuned to the seasonal and daily rhythms of heat, light, rain, snow, even frost like we have predicted for tonight, grounds me.  If the frost comes and I have nothing outside to protect, it is a passing phenomenon of little interest.  With delicate plants to protect I know what it means, cold enough to cause ice crystals inside plant cells to burst.  Likewise drought is of no notice to me if I live in a condominium or on a city lot where my grass and a tree or two are my only contact with the plant world.  With a vegetable garden, though, the plants dry up, don’t produce.  I have to consider the drought, see that my plants get adequate water.

When the rains come, followed by warming days and the seeds leap up through the soil, when the potato eyes push a stalk and early leaves through to the surface, when those leeks nurtured since early April stand up and begin to fatten, it matters to me.  Their work, much like the bees, comes from their essence, not from anything I do, but, also like the bees, I have a role, to protect them, to see they have what they need.  We work together, the vegetables, the fruit trees, the currant and gooseberries bushes and the bee colonies.

The food that comes from our garden does not see us through the winter, though some of our crops, like potatoes and garlic for example last that long, but eating close to the land, lower down the food chain, happens more naturally when some substantial part of the diet comes from home.  So, the food alone serves as a final link to the growing process, but as a present symbol of the food available in the vegetable world, it paints into our world color that needs to be at our table all year round.

This, then, has come to pass as my new faith, a link with the earth and its fruits, a role in caring for them and the constant reminder of our dependency, our interdependency on it all.  When I began to work with the Sierra Club three plus years ago, I did it to put my political experience to work on behalf of the living world, in part at least as a thank offering for the sustenance I have received from it all these many years.

Bee Diary: May 15

Beltane                                                              Waxing Last Frost Moon

Checked the bees just now.  Each colony queen right, lots of bees and brood.  Still honey in the frames I put in when they arrived, but I did pollen patties today.  These bees are calm, allowing me to check the frames after just a bit of smoke, no attacks so far.  So, the bee season has a good start.  Still planning to try both the old method, take all the honey the colonies produce, and the Furgalas three deep overwintering method.  Not sure which way I’ll way go, 2 old, 1 Furgalas or the other, but I have to decide before I put the third hive box on them.  I’m still thinking whether to use honey supers after the first box, primarily to make each box a bit lighter weight, easier for this old back to handle.

Button down below says frost advisory.  Yike!  Well, it just shows that the averages are what they are for a reason.  I took a chance and I knew it.  Now we have to protect the tomatoes, the herbs, the coleus, maybe some others.