Daily Archives: July 15, 2013

Our Land and Home, Third Phase, Woolly Mammoths

The Woollies At Our Home

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Summer                                                      Moon of First Harvests

The Woollies came.  Stefan, Tom, Scott, Bill, Charlie H., Warren, Frank, Mark and me.  We sat around the fire pit, ate Kate’s tasty and thoughtfully prepared food, told stories of our lives as we almost always do.  Relationship trouble.  A son’s successful, so far, focus on alcohol.  A journey to see children and grandchildren.  A good experience in home repair.  Painting, the fine art kind.  Plein air even.  A cousin who drunk himself to death.  A trip to the polar regions with walrus and polar bears and knowledge.  A sister-in-law with Alzheimer’s, early.  Consulting with a group, helping them become creative.

The woods were there as witness.  The sun set and the moon rose.  We talked about home, my question, wondering why we want to stay home rather than go to a nursing home, why we want to die at home.  What is this home idea that is so powerful that it can penetrate even the fog of Alzheimer’s?  How do we know home?  How do we make a home?  When does a house become a home?  We only got started, stories and poems and few notions, but there is so much more here.  And it will only become more and more important as we live further into the third phase.

A conversation not yet finished.

Commentary on the news

Stand Your Ground

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Summer                                                 Moon of the First Harvests

Stand your ground.  An extension of the castle doctrine to include personal space when out of the house if I understand it correctly.  It meshes well with the NRA and those fearful Americans who see a burglar, rapist, home invader, government spy, black helicopter or revenue agent at every corner, but especially just around the corner from home.

The facts of the Trayvon Martin case have been jumbled and mixed since the case began and the decision yesterday should come as no particular surprise.  After all, if you recall, the police initially refused to charge Zimmerman and prosecutors agreed.  It was only after considerable public pressure that Zimmerman saw the justice system.  Even then it seems the prosecution proceeded half-heartedly.

The horror of the case is its probably correct verdict.  That is, with stand your ground as the prevailing legal doctrine governing close personal struggle in Florida, the aggressor is easy to confuse with the victim and vice versa.  The law tips in favor of the one who used deadly force.  In regard to the death of Trayvon Martin it was not only Zimmerman who was on trial, but the vindictive, armed and frightened public that supports laws like stand your ground.

And they were found guilty.  Guilty of creating a situation so murky that one man can shoot another and have the law say look the other way.  In a country where the democratic principle puts power in the hands of the majority it is dangerous, actually lethally dangerous, to have a populus fearful.  Fearful people can create the grossest of inhumanities, just ask any Jew in Europe at the time of World War II, or gays and lesbians before Stonewall, or pregnant women before Roe vs. Wade, or Africans in America before the Civil War.

Fear is the enemy and the NRA and its ilk are its prophets.

 

 

 

Garden, Our Land and Home

Paths Not Taken

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Summer                                                       Moon of First Harvests

One thing I learned here early on was that decisions to not do things had important consequences.  Sections of the ash that grew so long undisturbed in the midst of our vegetable garden will now provide seating for the Woollies this evening and others in the future.  We chose, for example, to  not plant a full lawn in front, but to bookend the main lawn with prairie grass and wildflowers.

I chose to leave three oaks growing on what is now the northern border of the vegetable garden.  They’re 20 years older now, a small clump of strong young oaks.  I also chose to leave an ash sapling in the area where Jon and I cleared out the black locust, an area now covered by our vegetable garden and orchard.

As the years went by that ash grew, no competition, plenty of water and great sun.  It grew so big that it shaded out two raised beds and threw shadows onto much of the northern section of the vegetable garden.  Finally, we decided it had to go because we were not going to expand our vegetable gardening space and needed all the sun we could get for the beds we had.

Now that it’s gone we have a sunny garden which feels very open and airy.   And that ash    was not grown in vain.  It will now provide seating for years to come.  I like the cycle of growth, transformation and reuse.

Family, Friends, Our Land and Home, Woolly Mammoths

Home Olympics

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Summer                                                        Moon of the First Harvests

Noticed as I did my second round of foliar spray today, vegetative and reproductive plants separately, that we have tomatillos, eggplant, many tomatoes and green peppers.  None ready for harvest, but they’re on the way and it’s only mid-July.

A few last minute things for the Woollies.  Have to move more ash sections to serve as seats and go over the fire pit area one more time.  Kate began prepping for today over two weeks ago.  Between the Woollies and the kids plus Mark in June, we’ve done a lot of spiffing up and getting things ready, things that will last past the events that triggered them.

Sort of the home equivalent of the Olympics.  No bird’s nest auditorium, no fancy velodrome or natatorium, but the fire pit and the cleaned up orchard (which didn’t get scheduled until after the Woollies, but we planned it before), the hung chandelier, Kate’s familiarity with certain recipes and her finely-tuned entertainment acumen, the cut firewood, the lights in the fire pit, not to mention all the reflections on home I anticipate and the memories from June and tonight will vibrate here long after everyone goes to their home while we remain behind, here, in our own.