Generous Rain

50 bar falls 29.87 11mph N dewpoint 29 Spring

                 Waxing Gibbous Moon of Growing

Two tours today.  A Weber for about sixteen people.  Attentive, engaged.  Ditto for the Community College World Religion’s class.  All I need to feel successful is to have engaged, talkative tours.  Something happens that’s good then. Whatever it is.

Generous rain in the city, but very little here at home.  We could use some. 

I’m tired; but, I have to workout now or I’ll skip it and I need the time on the treadmill.  So, off I go.

I’m Not Sure I’m a Unitarian-Universalist. I Suppose That Removes All Doubt.

43 bar steady 30.01 0mph NE dewpoint 36  Spring

             Waxing Gibbous Moon of Growing

At last.  A night where I was not the biggest loser at sheepshead.  Bill Schmidt and I tied for high for the evening.  I had great cards and some good luck, plus I’ve had a long lesson in sheepshead from masters.  It was fun to do well at last.  We’ll see if I’ve actually learned something as the games continue.

Kate and I watched Mission to Mars, most of it.  A surprising, hopeful Mars film.  Many films about Mars end with everybody dying, but this one offered an improbable, but not impossible conceit about how life came to earth.  What?  You’ll have to catch it to find out.

Tomorrow I have two tours, a Weber and a Concerning the Spiritual in Art, focused on non-Western religions.

The presentation for Groveland took an odd, but interesting turn today as I got ready to get started.  I had decided to face head on the question of UU identity by talking about identity development from a psycho-religious perspective.  The idea was to offer resources Groveland could use to develop a UU identity.   When I began to write, I started with a couple of U-U jokes.  Then I remembered an old anthroplogy lesson about joking behavior.  Our jokes define the boundaries of our group; they are an important device through which we can know who is in our group and who is not.  I’ll explain this a bit more later, but the presentation should be a lot of fun.

Due to various things I didn’t exercise from Saturday through Tuesday.  My back began to spasm and remind me one of the good reasons for all this time I spend with weights and flexibility work.  So, I got back to it yesterday.  Yesterday and today I did a particular series of movement exercises which go a long way toward a more limber me.  They worked.  All better now.

A Failure of American Education

46  bar rises 30.08 0mph N dewpoint 32 Spring

            Waxing Gibbous Moon of Growing

“There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval.” – George Santayana

Santayana liked football, but only practice.  While at Harvard, he attended practice faithfully, but never went to a game.  His philosophical wisdom has a firm place in American letters though he retained his Spanish citizenship until his death.  Here’s a sample of his poetry:                    

I give back to the earth what the earth gave,
All to the furrow, nothing to the grave.
The candle’s out, the spirit’s vigil spent;
Sight may not follow where the vision went.             

As Americans we too often forget our own poets, philosophers and people of letters.  We scan back over the literary and artistic output of Western civilization to find exemplars.  If we’re truly catholic, we might even include Asia, but how many among us know Santayana?  Dewey?  James?  Emerson?  Thoreau?  How many have read, say, Moby Dick?  Whitman?  Emily Dickinson?  Even Frost and Sandburg beyond their iconic poems?  Willa Cather?  Have we heard of Charles Hartshorne?  How about Ambrose Bierce?  Wallace Stevens?  John Dos Passos? Sherwood Anderson? American has produced great artists like Pollock, the Hudson River School painters, John Singer-Sargent and Whistler, but again who knows them?  Only a few.

This is a failure of American education and of our willingness to learn our own heritage.  This is not trivial.  A people who do not know where they come from, as Santayana famously said, are doomed to repeat the same mistakes. 

I will add a brief bio here from time to time of more American persons of belles lettres.  Our future depends upon us becoming more than casually acquainted with them.

Compounding Pharmacies

44  bar rises 30.06  2mph N dewpoint 31 Spring

              Waxing Gibbous Moon of Growing

A gray, cool start after a shirt sleeve day yesterday.  We’re still in the hurry up and wait phase of gardening.  It’s a bit too early for clean up, certainly too early for planting anything but cold weather crops.  We don’t tend to do those, at least not so far, so the hydroponics are our primary entry in this years vegetable garden.  The lettuce seedlings and tomato plant I put under the light first have grown rapidly.  Not ready for harvest anytime soon, but on the way.

Kate made me aware of compounding pharmacies, a vestigial remnant of that which all pharmacies used to be, independent pharmaceutical manufactories.  There are six in Minnesota including one in St. Paul, St. Peter and Wayzata.  The Wayzata pharmacy has a glitzy name, RxArtisans.  I knew a few of those when I was in college.  The growth and reach of pharmaceutical companies has reduced the average pharmacy to nothing more than a retail distributor of already compounded drugs.  This results, of course, in a matching of patients to available drugs and their available dosages, whereas the compounding pharmacy matched drugs to patients both in dosage and delivery vehicle. 

The Delta buyout of Northwest, not a merger, will not be certain for some time to come.  The pilots association of Northwest and the other unions flight attendants, ground crews and mechanics are about to become part of a larger, non-unionized pool.  This creates probable labor and culture conflicts from day one.  Also, congress and the regulators still have to approve, as does Wall Street.  Both companies share price dropped the day after the announcement, an unusual event.  Also, both airlines have an aging fleet of planes and debt hangover from their respective bankruptcies.  The State of Minnesota wants its incentives back since Northwest, with the merger, violates the remain in Minnesota provision.  All this reflects the turbulent nature of an industry who excels in nothing quite so much as an uncomfortable experience delivered for hundreds of dollars.

Neither Noble nor Ignoble

55  bar falls 29.40 2mph S  dewpoint 38 Spring

           Waxing Gibbous Moon of Growing

“A man may be so much of everything that his is nothing of anything.” – Samuel Johnson

A study of valedictorians I read a while back said that, as a group, they rarely distinguish themselves.  Many get their Ph.D’s, but do not gain prizes or renown.  Why is this, the article asked?  It answered that in order to become a valedictorian you have to spread yourself over several areas.  They just don’t have the intensity of focus on one subject, one area that leads to great breakthroughs.  Johnson’s quote reminds me of that article and of my life.

As a high school valedictorian, I did just what the article suggested.  I worked hard at everything and had no true favorite subject.  I liked Latin and chemistry and English and algebra.  I didn’t much like physics or analytical geometry, but I worked at them anyhow.  Since then, my life has followed the same pattern.  In college I had two majors, anthropology and philosophy, but I had enough credits for a minor in geography, too.  All the while the political movements of the day occupied a great deal of time, as did bridge.  The closest I’ve come to focus was going to seminary and that lead me into more political and organizational work.  The preaching and pastoral care aspects of ministry, the traditional focus for protestants didn’t interest me as much. 

After I moved away from the ministry, I started to write.  Writing let me do a lot of research in various areas that interested me, still does, but again, no focused intensity.  When I became a Unitarian-Universalist, I guess you could say I became a generalist in the field of faith traditions.  Even my current interest in art is at an encyclopedic museum, although I have carved out a niche for myself in Asian art.  Asian art, however, is a vast field in itself.  Chinese art alone is a lifetime’s study and Japanese art is not far behind.  India, too.

When I’m down, I see myself as nothing of anything.  When I feel good, I’m a polymath.  In neither case am I Nobel prize material.  Not even ignoble prize material. 

It has taken many years to accept this almost random curiousity as just who I am.  It feels genetic, or, if not, then it became grafted into my sense of self so early that I can’t find the origin. 

The Tragic Sense of Life

51  bar falls 29.82 4mph SSE dewpoint 28 Spring

               Waxing Gibbous Moon of  Growing

“To fall into a habit is to begin to cease to be.” – Miguel de Unamuno

Unamuno has slipped from awareness, it seems, but this Spanish existentialist, poet and author speaks truth even when it is uneasy and unpleasant.  Here’s some brief information about him:

Spanish philosopher. In Del sentimento trágico de la vida en los hombres y en los pueblos {at Amazon.com} (The Tragic Sense of Life) (1913) {at Amazon.com}, Unamuno described human existence as torn between the irrational hope for immortality and the rational expectation of death. Since faith can never outweigh reason, Unamuno supposed, the best we can achieve is a life of authentic struggle with the human predicament.

Recommended Reading: Miguel De Unamuno, Three Exemplary Novels, tr. by Angel Flores (Grove, 1987) {at Amazon.com}; Victor Ouimette, Reason Aflame: Unamuno and the Heroic Will (Yale, 1986) {at Amazon.com}; and Gemma Roberts, Unamuno: afinidades y coincidencias kierkegaardianas (Colorado, 1986) {at Amazon.com}.

The house party for the Power 2 Change campaign had three attendees:  Frank Broderick, Bill Sutherland, and Ann, a former school teacher.  Jessica, a Sierra Club worker, attended to explain the campaign.  She fell into a trap the young activist often does, asking too little of her audience.  She kept referring to the things that were easy:  talk to a friend, sign the petition, read the literature, volunteer at the Sierra Club for a phone bank.  George Bush made the same disastrous mistake after 9/11.  He reassured us and asked to go shopping.  That’ll show’em.

People want to sacrifice, to do the difficult thing.  Why?  Because when we sacrifice, or do something that stretches us, we become engaged.  We know in our gut; this is important.  If it’s not important or significant, don’t bother me with it.  If it is important, figure out a way I can take action.  Help me find others, then assist us in getting our handles on the levers of power.  That’s the way change happens. 

As often happens to me, as I write this, especially with Unamuno dangling just above these words, the pointed finger takes on an impossible curve and aims straight at my chest.  I know in my gut that climate change and the energy issues are important, perhaps the important issues of my generation and certainly ones in which we are culpable and therefore responsible.  So, in addition to the work I need to do on other writing projects and at the MIA, I need to pick up this challenge, too, as I agreed to do last September in Iowa.  I’ve done too little and I can do more. 

Kate’s snacks and party layout, on the other hand, were delicious and beautiful.

Megafarm Hydroponics

54 bar steep fall 30.20 0mph SSE  dewpoint 18  Spring

               First Quarter Moon of Growing

A 28 degree spread between 8:00 AM and right now.  We still have patches of snow, but they lie now mostly in the shade or north facing slopes.  The tulips, daffodils and iris should continue their growth.  The magnolia buds look pregnant.  Some of the garlic has broken the surface, about 7 bulbs.  It’s starting.

The generator now sits on its little pad on the west wall of our garage.  The electrician has been here all day.  He cut into the garage wall with a reciprocating saw to splice the transfer switch into our electrical panel.  This transfer switch plus a sensing device discovers a power outage, waits a beat or two to be sure the electricity is really off, then turns the generator on and transfers itself as the power source for the house.  When the power comes back on, it senses that, too, then transfers the generator off-line and runs it a bit longer to cool it down and allow it to shut down smoothly. 

It’s not ready to go, yet, however.  The next step is to run the gas line from the new gas meter (not installed yet) up through the garage ceiling and down to the generator’s fuel intake.  The next step after that is–pay for it.

The Megafarm hydroponics (the second and larger plastic tub) has begun to function, too.  I filled the reservoir with seven gallons of nutrient solution, smoothed out a kink in the tubing connecting the pump.  It needs to get set on a two hour cycle soon, but right now, I’m filling the growing bed and shutting the pump off by hand.  It has a few lettuce plants and three tomato plants.  This is all still experimental, but it feels like we’re headed in the right direction with it.

Kate has prepared snacks and drinks for the meeting tonight.  All I have to do is meet and greet.  Should be fun.

Oh, How the Activist Has Fallen

30  bar steady  30.31 0mph N dewpoint 21 Spring

                      First Quarter Moon of Growing

A crisp morning, 26 as I went out for the paper, and, if we can believe the meteorologist, the day will end with the temperature in the high 50’s, headed toward 70 or close to it in the remainder of the week.  This spring has been so reticent, almost shy, that it may once again run from its aging parent, winter.  I hope not.  I’m ready for the joys and tasks, often the same at this time of year, of the growing season.

This evening I have a Sierra Club gathering at the house, a brief one hour meeting to hear about the legislative agenda and an opportunity to sign a petition.  Oh, how the activist has fallen.  In my former life I sneered at petitions and resolutions, both tools of liberals to give the appearance of doing something while risking nothing.  Now I host gatherings for signing one.  My hope is that it will lead to more direct political engagement further on down the line.

An electrician is here, prepping our electrical service for installation of our Kohler 12W generator.  It will run off the natural gas piped to our house by Centerpoint, eliminating the gasoline conundrums (going bad and service stations not working in a power outage) and the necessity of a propane tank.  I’m still not sure this is not a sledge hammer for a mosquito, but the first significant outage we have will prove me wrong.  Since that could happen any time, I guess the pro-argument is sound, especially since Kate has started making lots of money in her new work at Urgent Care. 

The Hydroponics Are On

34  bar rises 29.50 3mph NNW dewpoint 31  Spring

               First Quarter Moon of Growing

The calendar says spring; the snow says not yet.  It’s all moisture, though, and if it doesn’t run away to rivers and streams, some of this goes to recharge ground water and aquifers.  A good thing whether it comes chilled or just wet.

Last night it looked the drive in to the MIA this morning would be a nightmare.  Predictions of 1 foot snow depths and high winds could have lead to blizzard conditions.  The temperatures never dropped far enough.  So, instead of a foot of snow we got about 3 inches of slush, suitable for snow cones if not so oil impregnated.  The drive in was uneventful.

Sachei Makabe brought her kids from Robbinsdale.  Marilyn Smith and I divided them up and took them through Weber.  Each one of the Japanese language classes I’ve taken through have been attentive, observant and interested.  Can’t ask for more than that.  The diversity in the classes surprise me.  There seem to be far more Asian, Latino and African American students than Caucasian.  This speaks well for the schools and the students but only reinforces the dismal record us white folks have with learning a second language.  I’m one of those who never learned.  Shame on me.

Came home.  Kate had a great lunch made with fish, green beans and acorn squash.  I added a salad. 

After the nap I got out the books and handouts for the hydroponics and got started.  The meter I got a couple of weeks ago I handed over to Kate because it required precision and a chemistry background, neither one of which characterizes me.  It will help us quickly diagnose problems and repair them.  It measures ph, temperature and conductivity.  All of these measures have to do with the uptake of nutrients, though I don’t understand the relationships by any means at this point.

The lettuce seedlings that I started a few weeks ago have started to push roots through the rock wool medium.  This signals the time to transplant them to the hydroponics.  Each planter in the smaller hydroponic system (We have two.) has round lava rocks which hold moisture, but do not interfere with the plants root system reaching the nutrient bath in the reservoir below the planters.  It took 3 gallons of nutrient solution to fill the reservoir to the 2 1/2″ depth recommended.

The nutrient goes into the reservoir through the planters.  This charges the lava rocks.  Then I got a pair of forceps (Adson’s, Kate says.) and plucked the rock well medium out of the seedling beds one at a time.  With a soup ladel I scooped lava rocks out and let them sit in the left over nutrient solution while I positioned the small cube of rock wool and its single lettuce plant.  When I had it where I wanted, one per planter, I scooped the lava rocks around the cube.  Planted.  It’s a strange process compared to gardening directly in mother earth, but it’s fun, too.

After the nutrient solution was in the reservoir, a plastic tub in essence, I plugged the pump into the black tubing that leads inside the reservoir to a plastic tube with two airstones.  Airstones are permeable and the bubbling of oxygen through them creates a nutrient rich mist that reaches the bottom of the planters.  The roots of the lettuce seedlings will head down, through the lava rock to the mist.

With the small pump sighing the only thing left was to switch on the Halide light.  It’s a big thing, 250 watts, with a ballast that feels like a large rock  in weight.  It now glows about 22 inches above the seedlings.   The distance is necessary while the seedlings are still  young and fragile.  After they become well rooted and mature, I’ll move the lamp down to 6 to 12 inches above them.  It will be on roughly 16 hours a day.

We’ve begun.

Air Conditioning

33 bar steep fall 29.69  7 mph NE dewpoint 32  Spring

                Waxing Crescent Moon of Growing

Just got a call from the Sierra Club inviting me to my own party.  I said, “OK.”

The rain turned to part snow around 4:50PM and looks like it’s mostly snow now.  As soon as the temps drop, it will transition to full snow and if it comes up this rate, it will accumulate.

Checked out airfare to Dallas/Ft. Worth in July.  Only for family would I go to Dallas/Ft. Worth and only for a family reunion would I go in July.  Once, long ago, I took the train from Indiana to Ft. Worth where my Dad’s brother, Charles, lived.  On the way I got molested while taking pictures with my Brownie camera, but I said, “Don’t do that.” to the guy who put his hand between my legs and he went away.  It was not a big deal then or now.

I hit Ft. Worth just as the temperature racked up 107.  I didn’t know the temperatures in the world really got that hot.  I knew it theoretically, but empirically?  No way.   This would have 1956/7 and I’d only experienced air conditioning on rare occasions.  I remember repeating after I got back:  I went from an air-conditioned train, to an air-conditioned car, to an air-conditioned house.  This was remarkable.

What the temps will be like this time I have no idea, but air-conditioning has gone from a comment-worthy rarity to a personal necessity.  I have no doubt we’ll be well cooled. 

That weather seems a long way from the winds today, which hit 34 at 2:10pm, and the driving snow that builds up on our lawn as I write this.