Peony Moss: April 2004 Archives

Today my friend Iris took a half-day off work and came up for a visit. We loaded Hambet into the car and took off for a day of shopping. Other women go to the mall, but Iris and I hate shopping for clothes. We went scouting used bookstores. There are six within reasonable driving distance; we visted two favorites.

We both had good hauls. I had good success with books for Hambet. Two Beatrix Potters -- Hambet loved Peter Rabbit, so we'll see if he also likes the tales of Benjamin Bunny and Mrs Tiggle-Winkle. I like the small, individual editions of the Potter books; they retain the intended pacing of the text and illustrations. I also found another one of those great books from Golden Books' heyday: Joe Kaufman's About the Big Sky, About the High Hills, About the Rich Earth, amd the Deep Sea. Does anyone else remember these books? Kaufman takes the Richard Scarry concept -- vivid, detailed drawings explaining science and technology -- to a level appropriate for older children. I had a copy of his book on the human body when I was a kid, and it was one of my favorite books (I'll have to see if my mother still has it.) I know he's written others as well -- and they all seem to be out of print, which is criminal. Hambet isn't quite ready for this book yet, though he will proabably like looking at the pictures. I'll have to do some updating as we read; the book repeats the old canard that it took Columbus to demonstrate that the earth wasn't flat, and will need some supplementation for discoveries made since 1978 (the rings of Jupiter, for example.)

It's a shame, really; Golden Press had so many great books -- so many of my favorites from when I was growing up -- and so many are out of print! Many of the Richard Scarry books have been edited for political correctness, and many of his (and other) Little Golden Book titles are either out of print or difficult to find.

I had a great fiction haul at the second bookstore, all on the same shelf: Eclipse of the Sun, by Michael O'Brien, and THREE Aubrey-Maturins (usually difficult to find in used bookstores.) There were more PO'Bs available but I had to use a little self-control. Finally, a copy of G.K. Chesterton's St Francis of Assisi, which I presented to my dear husband.

Iris found a book of Audobon paintings at an excellent price and a couple of books of natural history. She picked up a couple of PO'Bs for herself as well, and two by G.K. Chesterton (an introductory anthology and The Everlasting Man.) Iris, who attends a Protestant church, was kind enough to tape the Dale Ahlquist series on Chesterton for me when it ran on EWTN a couple of years ago (her cable company ran EWTN 24/7.) I thought she'd just use the timer function on her VCR, but when she brought the first set of tapes over, she demanded to know why she hadn't been taught about GK before since everything he predicted had come to pass? So when I saw the Chesterton books today, I was an instigator and suggested she take a peek at them.

A stop at Starbucks for coffee and cake was the cherry on the sundae. Don't know if today did anything for fixing that slipped gear in my brain, but it did wonders for my mood. All I need now is for my child and husband to go to bed early, so I can sneak downstairs and read.

...on the '04 elections and the extreme left. If Bush=Hitler in '04, what will Bush equal if he's back for a second term?

....what about those people who already regard the Democrats as sell-outs and phonies, bought-and-paid-for corporate whores? That’s a subset, the ranting fringe. But you have to wonder what they’ll do if Bush wins They already seem to regard America as a lost cause; they see the fascist caul draped over the land, just as the demented home-grown terrorists of the 60s and 70s saw Amerikkka as irredeemably evil, a thing that had to be killed for The People to live. Most of the ranting fringe – 99.5% – will whine and seethe in the message boards of the Internet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if domestic leftist terrorism made a comeback this decade. It only takes a few, after all. And it only takes a few sympathizers here and there to shield them.

Sometimes I look at pictures from the 'fifties and early 'sixties -- the stiff formal fashions and skinny neckties, the earnest ads, the delight in new techology -- and I think about the later 'sixties and early 'seventies, with the worship of the youth culture, the hippie culture, the riots, and I wonder if, for ordinary people, if it didn't feel sometimes like the world wasn't coming to an end.

I tend to take the threat of terrorism somewhat personally. Maybe it's from the September 11th attacks -- I vividly remember the panic of that day, how I had no idea where my husband was, how I couldn't place a phone call because the lines were jammed. We didn't know any of the victims of the attacks, but we have friends who lost friends. Maybe it's from the days of the D.C. sniper -- most of the shootings took place in neighborhoods where I live and shop. The last shooting was only a mile or two from my house. I think about the Palestinian suicide bombers and how they prey on people going about their business -- people shopping, having coffee, dining out, going to work, going to school. I think about the Madrid bombing, and how the victims were commuters, just going about their business.

Will I be be the one glued to the radio, waiting by the phone, waiting for news of survivors of the attack on the D.C. Metro?

Or will it be my husband? Will I go run some little errand -- maybe going to Michael's for some food coloring or something trivial like that -- and never come home again? Will he be the one dialing the cell phone number again and again and again, getting no response, taking hours to get home because of the traffic and the emergency vehicles and the detours, hoping for some good news?

It's bad enough that I can see this happening because some Al Quaida operatives have found some holes in the net. But to think about it being the work of a domestic terrorist -- Oklahoma City over and over again....

I have about five possible posts, responses to very thought provoking posts of others, sloshing all around in my brain. None of them seem to want to jell.

I can't seem to come up with anything worthy of entry in comments boxes (I'm sure "you rock!" is good for the ego, but a few supporting sentences would probably be even more helpful)

I can't complete a metaphor or a simile to save my life.

I think my brain has slipped a gear or something.

I saw it first at Catholic Light: the Australian media appear to have a draft of the new English translation of the Mass.

Christus Medicus, by medical student Dev Shakur. (by the way, just a little hint :) -- we could reeeeeally use more faithfully Catholic reproductive endocrinologists....)

Ecclesia et Mundi. Blogger Joshua has his lovely how-we-met AND how-we-converted story at his other blog, Katholik Shinja.

Pansy and I have both been updating our reading lists. We must beg her to blog on that book about tractors.

I've also installed the new 'Blogtone control. It seems to work a lot faster, and it certainly looks snappy, doesn't it? Do check out Victor's newly updated 'Blogtones page.

Remember that friendship post from a month or so ago? Father McCloskey is going to have an article on Christian friendship, with a special focus on men's friendships, in the May issue of Catholic World Report. If you can't get CWR on the newsstand, the article will probably be online in June.

UPDATE: This is what I get for multitasking -- I meant to include a link to Alicia's post "What We Have Lost", in which among other things she touches on how the sexualization of everything is wrecking same-sex friendship.

It seems like everything has been sexualized except sex.

Dear Mr Luse has another post on the battle of the sexes, but this one is more sobering than funny. His students were invited to respond to Judy Brady's "I Want a Wife" (he provides a link).

At one time I would have found that essay hysterically funny. Now it just makes me wonder if I have any Pepto in the house. I would like to write more at length, but I don't want a wife, I am a wife, and I think I'm going to find me some shirts to iron.

Sleepy Mommy history was made Monday and Tuesday when, for the very first time, Pansy and I finally got to meet each other in person! I'll let Pansy speak for herself when she's back home. For myself, I'll just say I had a blast.

Pansy came down to the D.C. area on Saturday and spent Sunday with her family. I'll let her tell the story about how they were trying to get to the Shrine but instead landed themselves in the coven; I'll just say that if you're going to the Shrine and taking I-395 from Northern Virginia, I would recommend taking 395 to the 3rd street tunnel, taking the tunnel all the way north to New York Avenue, and taking NY Avenue east to a left on First Street or North Capital Street, and turning right onto Michigan Avenue. But I digress. On Sunday evening, most of Pansy's family went to Philly while Pansy and her youngest son, Gorbulas, stayed with her dad in Alexandria.

Monday was the big DC Metro Family Blogger Fiesta. KTC made it all happen, really; she very kindly picked up Pansy from Alexandria (a bit of a hike from her own neighborhood) and brought her up to my place in Maryland -- all in rush hour traffic! and they still got there right on time! ( We've all known that KTC has one of the fattest Rolodexes in St Blog's -- she knows everybody; we know she is a first class Prayer Warrior; now we know she is a ROAD WARRIOR!) Davey's mommy, Davey's daddy, and Davey himself (whose new haircut makes him look just like Christopher Robin) joined us, and we had a lovely lunch together. Friends sitting around the kitchen table; a spirited, wide-ranging conversation fueled by coffee and a little dessert.... what could be better? The little boys seemed to have a good time, too, alternating between screams of territorial rage and long moments of ominous delighted silence.

Tuesday I picked up Pansy and we set off for a little touring. It would have been fun to see the Smithsonian, but that's hard to do with two restless little boys in tow, especially on a day with rain in the forecast. We went to the Shrine and then to the JPII Cultural Center. One of the best things about the Cultural Center is it's "Children's Gallery" -- a padded room with kids' activities, including a toddler's area with a latched gate (so weary parents don't have to run after little escapees.) We turned the little boys loose and let them go at it while we visited. Afterwards we stuffed them in their strollers and looked at the exhibits.

We picked up my husband and headed to Alexandria, where we had dinner and met Pansy's dad. But all too soon, it was time to say good-bye, and we headed back to Maryland.

Pansy is headed back home today. I so hope we can do this again sometime. We've been "pen-pals" (or whatever the IM equvalent is) for almost two years now, and it was so good to finally meet "in real life." It was funny, we've been looking forward to this for months, but once it finally came -- to me, anyway -- it was like we'd always been neighbors and this was an extended play date instead of a Very Unusual Event. Pansy sitting at my kitchen table, coffee cup in hand, seemed like the most natural sight in the world.

Did anyone else see Mark Shields spinning away last night on the Lehrer NewsHour?

Every Friday, Shields and David Brooks do a little back-and-forth on a current issues, and last night they were chattering about Kerry. I wasn't paying too much attention until the very end, when the host brought up Cardinal Arinze's comments about pro-abortion politicians.

He asked Shields, "Didn't the Church just say that pro-abortion politicians shouldn't be given Communion?"

Shields sputtered and said quickly, in almost these exact words, Well, that wasn't the Church, that was a Nigerian cardinal. And I know that Kerry met with Cardinal McCarrick, the Archbishop of Baltimore.....

A little background -- Mr Shields is a pundit who writes on current events and on the political scene. He is also one of those self-proclaimed Catholics of a certain generation that somehow always manages to defend whatever the Democrat in question is doing. If you pressed him, I'm sure he would be quick to say something like, but of course I'm Catholic! I'm Irish, aren't I? I was an altar boy! Mr Shields lives in Washington, DC, and is involved in Catholic life to some degree; he's said to be a parishioner at a parish in Northwest DC, and my husband once saw him buying medals at the Shrine.

So what's with not knowing that Cardinal McCarrick is the Cardinal Archbishop of Washington, not Baltimore? Baltimore has her own Cardinal Archbishop! It's true that the Archdiocese of Washington was spun off from Baltimore, but that was in the 1940's, so it's not exactly recent news.

And what's with this dismissive that was a Nigerian cardinal? Does Mr Shields seriously not know who Francis Cardinal Arinze is? Does he not understand that the Cardinal is not just some random prelate shooting off his mouth -- that he is the Prefect of Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments -- a member of the Curia? Is Mr Shields really just that out of touch?

Or is he really being that disingenuous?

Either way, it was not an edifying display (particularly that line about the Nigerian cardinal, which to me came across as patronizing and parochial -- at best.) If Mr Shields wants to shill for Democrats, that's his business, but if he wants to represent himself as a knowledgable commentator on Catholic affairs, it's time to get up to speed. And it's time for the Lehrer NewsHour to find a better Catholic talking head.

UPDATE: Mark the Vociferous Yawper found and posted the transcript. An excerpt:

MARK SHIELDS: It was not the Catholic Church. It was Cardinal Arinze, who is a Nigerian cardinal and said it in a press questioning. There is a question here of whether the Holy Eucharist Communion will be used as a political football. Cardinal McCarrick, the cardinal archbishop of Baltimore [sic] right now has been meeting, trying to come up with some sort of a prudential decision on this.

2A: Do not rest anything inflammable, such as library books, on the counter next to the stove.

2B: Do not rest anything else, such as plates, on the stove.

2C, the most important part: Do not store enticing goodies, such as cheddar-cheese flavored Pirate's Booty, in the cupboards above the stove.

I violated all these rules this afternoon, the first two "just for a minute" while I started straightening up the kitchen. Hambet did not care to wait for dinner, so he pushed a chair over and began to climb up to retrieve the Pirate's Booty. I saw what he was after and got him down off the counter. What I didn't notice was that in his ascent, he had pushed the library book and some other things onto the stove to get them out of his way. I also didn't notice that at some point he had kicked the burner knob on.

Hambet did notice the little plume of smoke rising from the stove. "What's that?" he asked. I looked up, and sure enough, there was the burner on and the library book catching fire. Turned off the burner, moved the book, moved the plate that was too close to the burner, heard the plate go "crack", sighed, and looked over the book. Part of the dust jacket is totally gone, and part of the front cover is charred. The edges of the pages are also a little singed. We'll head over to the library next week to face the music. At least it's a book I won't mind owning, even with a fire-scarred cover. (It's one of those "Jack Aubrey's Navy" type companion books to the O'Brian series.)

Oh well, it's just a material thing, and a relatively inexpensive thing at that. Thank you, Guardian Angel, for calling our attention to the fire before it got big. I also think I might start removing the knobs from the stove and storing them separately until this latest wave of climbing is over.

(By the way, Part 1, "keep an eye on your pot full of olive oil," was here. Do not miss the catechesis on fire extinguishers from our dear commenter Mr Franklin Jennings.)

Jeff has a good discussion of "angry Traddism" -- the kind of relentless carping that that some refer to as "Lidless Eye" traddism -- over at El Camino Real:

I think that in many cases traditionalists are their own worst enemy. There are, indeed, some kooky traditionalists who think it is their duty to correct everyone they meet in matters of religion....

One of my favorite quotes is from TSO, in the comments box:

Anger has its place, of course. It's more the relish with which it is wielded that grates. One gets the sense that some (not just Trads) exult over their fallen victims like linebackers over a sacked, bleeding quarterback. As Bishop Sheen said, "win an argument, lose a soul".

Pansy's big guy is 5 today!

(Thanks to his uncle for the heads up!)

Steven's reflections on Martha, the patron saint of housewives: Choosing the better part doesn't mean letting the dishes pile up in the sink.

That Michelle! She must be telepathic or something. I was just wondering the other day if there would be any interest in reviving the long-dormant Group Read, and sure enough, there on her blogwas her little reminder....

The Group Read will resume Monday, May 3. We will discuss Chapters 13-18.

If you were not reading along in February but would like to join, please do! We're not using any particular edition of the book, so just grab a copy and jump on in. The text of the book is even available on-line. You can also get it as an e-book. Notes and discussions on previous chapters are available here.

-- I will probably be scarce for the next week or so -- stuff around the house, etc.

-- Thanks to all who left such kind words on my "Sadness" post from last week. I hit the nadir that Wednesday, I think (when the last scoop of disappointment got served out), and perked up after that. Getting a glimpse of that big round yellow thing in the sky, after days and days of clouds and rain, helped a lot.

-- Beauty breaks and going to Confession help a lot too. I got to do both on Sunday, when we went to the Shrine for Mercy Sunday. If you saw a little boy who was running around in too-large pants secured with a strap from a cell phone tied through the belt loops, that would have been Hambet.

-- Still sunny. I'll try to get a Garden Report up sometime soon.

-- Took Hambet out to get a new pair of sneakers today. He managed to escape and flee the shoe store twice (I don't know where he thought he was going) but he was polite to the salesman. (He actually likes getting his feet measured.) When we went to look at the sneakers, he immediately picked out a sample shoe and tried stuffing it on his foot: "I want these shoe!" Maybe it was the Velcro that caught his eye; up to now he's only had tie shoes. Happily, the shoes he liked were ones I liked too (no brand names or flashing lights) so he got to wear them home.

-- I could use a pair of shoes myself but I don't even know what style to look for. I wish I could get one of our fashionista bloggers to be my personal shopper. I only like shopping for books. I don't mind looking for clothes for Hambet either, particularly if I can leave him off with someone else. But I hate shopping for myself.

Congratulations! I see Summa Mama Smockmomma made "Spanning the Globe!" I see that she also got reassigned to the Sleepy Mommies! Yay Smock!

Just kidding, of course. Smock is still a Summa. We love the Summas, but we have so much in common (Catholics, mommies, granolacons, The Fine Domain, even some para-blog projects) that perhaps it might be time to note some of the subtle differences in plumage.

So in the spirit of the late Roger Tory Peterson, please allow me to present A Field Guide to the Mommies and the Mamas.

Enbrethiliel has some answers -- actually a mini Bible study on salt.

If permalinks are acting up, scroll down to April 17, "Why Salt?"

I was planning to blog this as part of a follow up to my pity-party-post, but the Curt Jester beat me to it in The Seven Deadly Gilligans. The idea is that each of the castaways exemplifies one of the Seven Capital Sins: Gilligan shows us gluttony; Ginger, lust; the Skipper, anger; the Howells, avarice and sloth; Mary Ann, envy; and the Professor, pride. (This is the way I heard the list; Jeff's differs slightly.)

Now for all you young 'uns who don't know our seven stranded castaways, Don DeMarco suggests you think of the folks from the place where everybody knows your name: Sam showed us lust; Norm fell to gluttony; Cliff stood for pride, Carla for anger, Rebecca for avarice. DeMarco suggests Frasier for envy, but doesn't name anyone for sloth. Any nominees?

I have also heard that the show about nothing is really about the Seven Capitals. I have seen exactly two episodes of Seinfeld all the way through, so I hope I can remember this: Newman is gluttony, Jerry's parents are anger and avarice, Elaine is lust, George is envy, Kramer is pride, and Jerry exemplifies sloth.

This is fun! Any nominations for Star Trek?

There is so much I don't know. There is so much I don't know. I wish I could just pour it into my head or swallow it like a pill so I could absorb the knowledge quickly and move on, instead of having to go to the trouble of realizing what I don't know, finding out what I need to learn, finding the best book on the subject, and reading about it -- all of which provide ample opportunities for me to go off on tangents and forget about what I was originally trying to learn, or get bogged down in the learning and never get around to the doing.

I am speaking of the spiritual life: learning to pray, learning to recognize the snares and pitfalls that lie along the way, and above all cultivating the virtue of perseverance. When I read solid works on spiritual growth, so often I find myself without the background knowledge, so to speak, I need to fully grasp what the author is telling me: What is a spiritual bouquet? What exactly is meant by meditation, by mental prayer?

When we are told that we should not be sad, that sadness is a symptom of lukewarmness, what does that mean? Surely it does not mean that we will never experience the emotion of sadness for the rest of our lives -- or that we should deny that we feel this emotion when we feel it. Or does it? Or is there another, more restricted meaning of the word "sadness" in writing on the spiritual life? In that context, does it mean something more along the line of "cultivating self-pity" or something like that? Or are we being warned to take sadness seriously, as a warning?

Yesterday I was walking around in a pretty blue mood all day long. (I went through about two years of clinical depression and had a mild relapse a few years later, so I tend to pay attention when I feel the grey cloud settling around me.) Nothing serious, nothing weepy, but still a melancholy day -- a mood that seemed most inappropriate for Easter Monday. Part of it was just the natural result of too little sleep (I had not slept well) and too little breakfast. Part of it was the letdown from getting back to the routine after the stress of travel.

But a good bit was just plain old disappointment and sorrow. Sorrow for my friend who had received bad news on Thursday; sorrow for the bad news everywhere. Sorrow over some disappointments we've had at our own house recently. And then the disappointment: disappointment at my very sense of disappointment (God has been good to us, what possible right do we have to "want more"); disappointment at my lackluster Lent (my resolution was to make daily mental prayer a priority, with a 50% success rate at best.) Disappointment at my totally lame Holy Week. Disappointment with my laziness, my disorganization, my dirty kitchen floor.

I wish I weren't so ignorant.

I wish I weren't so weak.

I wish I would remember that part of the answer is to stop worrying about -- to accept and even rejoice in -- my weakness and ignorance. But then, I missed class when that topic was covered, too.

aka Catholic Kerry Watch.

I would have so much more respect for Kerry if he just came out and said something like, "I was raised kinda-sorta Catholic but I really am no longer Catholic as I don't believe what the Church teaches on pretty much anything; the missus and I pretty much just worship whenever we get up early and have time to kill before brunch Christmas, Easter, Ash Wednesday, and Palm Sunday where and when it's expedient to do so the spirit moves us."

Back from visiting the in-laws in Pittsburgh for Easter. We had a good visit, but the logistics of travel kept me from attending any of the Triduum liturgies. How I miss them. The closest I got was hearing the Exsultet on EWTN on the hotel room TV -- well, a little, anyway, before I had to get up again and try to prevent Hambet from dismantling something else in the hotel room.

Jumbled thoughts, nothing jelling enough for a blog post, about chest freezers, What I Did For My Lenten Resolution, recent delightful finds at used bookstores and book sales, the sensation that you are left behind waving a flag on the sidewalk while everyone else gets to march in the parade, and the inhuman cruelty of the layout of the ladies' room at the Mickey D's in Breezewood, PA.

I'm going to try to get the Easter template up. Meanwhile, I would be very grateful for prayers for a friend of mine who got some bad news on Thursday night. Thanks so much.

So why does Senator Kerry say such strange things? Jeff Miller and his perceptive reader Alex have found the answer. Standard Curt Jester warning (put down your food and drink) applies.

Poor Mr Luse is looking for sympathy. He is sorely vexed at present by some pretty depressing "research" papers:

Papers on the legalization of drugs ran 2-1 in favor. Marijuana, for example, just has so many medical benefits...So you're against it for purely recreational purposes then?

There's one line in there that should go straight to the Apologia Groupie Hall of Fame.

I tried Bill White's suggestion of addressing the ghosts-and-monsters issue by talking up St Michael. Hambet listened very attentively, and seemed to especially appreciate when I got to "St Michael and his big sword." He then eagerly interrupted to tell me that when St Michael is done with his sword, he puts it in a suitcase.

Well, he likes hearing about St Michael, but we are still having bedtime issues. Last night we settled the ghosts and monsters question and thought Hambet was asleep, when we heard that piteous noise again and were informed that there was a dinosaur in the bathroom. A lot of holding and reassuring, and almost a solid hour of hopping up and down before Hambet finally gave in and went to sleep.

***

Yesterday Hambet held up his palm and told us, "I like my volcano stick!"

New homes for:

Adjutorum Nostrum + In Nomine Domini

Sanctificarnos

Welcome to our blogroll:

Our Lady's Gifts
Recta Ratio

First you had the Sleepy Mommies, then you had the Summa Mamas, and now the Fine Domain brings you the Daddies: Fathers Know Best (what a cute title!)

Mark at Vociferous Yawpings bring usThe Da Vinci Code meets The Inferno. Don't miss this!

Happy birthday in the Church to Jeff Miller and Michelle of And Then?

Already I am so glad we raised the beds in the vegetable garden. It has been gently raining for about 36 hours straight now. We have clay soil with poor drainage, and in the past I would have looked out to my garden and seen it under giant puddles of water. with a few trickles of water carrying away all my seeds and soil amendments.

But not this year! All I see are my raised beds, with my sticks and strings and strings and soil all exactly where I left it.

Now I am on a mission: I want raised beds everywhere. I had some leftover castle block last fall from our retaining wall project, and I used it to build a flower bed on the side of our shed. Now I look out the window and I see the green grass, the white shed, the red brick, and the yellow daffodils nodding away. It's so cute.

One of my many dreams for the Prussian Green Money Pit is to save enough money to replace the rusty old chain-link fence with a simple wood fence, with raised beds along the perimeter of the lawn. I could put in hostas, azaleas, daylilies (like the big pink and white "Stargazer" lilies; some people think they're tacky but I really like them....) I'd love to raise a bed along the outside wall of our carport and plant lilacs.

Once I get all these beds built and filled, I will be able to consult Erik's Gardening in Hell post for hints on what not to plant in them.

Last Saturday was a busy garden day. It rained in the morning, so I worked on some prep stuff.

I am still trying to find the best way to mark off the squares in the garden, and so far I've had the best luck with string. Last year the string got all muddy and difficult to see; this year I got some fluorescent pink surveyor's string that contrasts nicely. I tied the string to those 1 foot long bamboo stakes and stuck the stakes around the perimeter at 1-foot intervals, so now I've got a nice 1-foot grid. This year I got really obsessed and drilled holes in the stakes to poke the string through, instead of looping the string around the top lasso-style. As I was running the drill, I thought I cannot believe I am doing this, but I'm glad I did -- the pink string tends to come unknotted, so what I did was just poke each end of a 4' length of string through one of the stakes, tie a knot, and then fix the knot with clear nail polish. I felt very ingenious, and laying out the grids went very quickly. Now my gardens look like archeological digs with those string grids, but that's okay.

So after I laid out my grids, it was time to plant. I direct-sowed parsnip, carrot, and lettuce. Those carrot seeds are so tiny -- what a hassle. I was also ruing making the paths between the beds a mere 18 inches -- much too small. I am planting "Short 'n' Sweet" and "Nutri-Red" carrots -- the Nutri-Reds are supposed to be extra high in phytochemicals and should be cooked. Sometime I might plant some of those carrots that are shaped like golf balls, just because they're cute.

For the lettuce I planted Romaine, loose-leaf, corn salad (mache -- I don't know how to make that little carrot over the a) and mesclun mix. I had also tried starting lettuce from seed indoors but it got very leggy and droopy. It wasn't doing well inside at all, and I was in a hurry, so instead of carefully hardening it off I just took the seedlings and stuck them in the ground. It's been five days now and they don't look dead yet -- we've had cool rainy weather -- so perhaps my gamble will pay off.

I also planted some more garlic. I have so much garlic available for planting, I'm still trying to decide where to plant it all.

The peas I planted at the beginning of March have started to come up. Two of the three new rhubarbs have their first tiny leaf out, and the third one has a bud. I was worried that I'd planted those too early, but looks like my gamble paid off.

After I did all that sowing, I came inside and started some plants from seed: tomatoes (Brandywine, grape, and Roma) and basil (Genovese and purple) Talk about instant gratification -- all of those seeds have already germinated and are well on their way!

The other seeds under the lights are also doing well. I am delighted at how well the eggplants are doing -- they are about four inches tall now and have their true leaves. The marigolds all look good, and I have three tiny geraniums growing too. I planted some broccoli, and I need to start hardening it off. It's also looking all weird and leggy.

Our last frost date is late April to May 1 -- hard to believe it's coming up so soon. I'll be planting out marigolds and direct-sowing nasturtiums right away, and will probably plant out tomatoes and eggplants closer to Mother's Day.

The intensive organic gardening methods I'm interested in lend themselves to succession planting -- planting things close together, or one after another. For example, I put the lettuce I started indoors in the squares where I plan to put the tomatoes in another month or so. The lettuce will probably be ready to pick just when it's time to set out the tomatoes, and if not, there will be enough room for the little tomatoes for another week or so.

Meanwhile, the bulbs I planted last fall are blooming in just the choreography I hoped for: first the crocuses, and now grape hyacinth, daffodils, hyacinths, and a few narcissi. They look so cheerful. I'm looking forward to the tulips.

Lileks has a great Bleat today on Kerry's appearance on MTV. Good comments on being a grown-up and giving grown-up answers; a great zinger on the generation gap between people like Kerry, who think that all of American history was preparation for -- and then commentary on -- the sixties and early seventies, and people of my generation and older, who just associate that time period with riots and ugly clothes and a bunch of pop music stars who are going to be eligible for Medicare soon.

You are a complete literary geek, from knowing the
classics (even the not-so-well-known classics
and tidbits about them) to knowing devices used
in writing, when someone has a question about
literature, they can bring it to you and rest
assured; you know the answers.


How much of a literary geek are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Thanks to complete literary geek M'Lynn for this quiz. I do notice that the author of this quiz has some spelling issues and doesn't have a firm grop on some of his literary definitions.

The Sesame Street 35th anniversary trivia game!

Be warned, this game has sound (Oscar the Grouch heckling you)

My highest score was around 30,000. I thought I knew the Street, but they had some stumpers on there.