Should we be marching in the streets?

I'm not one to spend any time reading about the Securities and Exchange Commission. What I know about it is what I pick up on the radio half-listening to people wringing their hands, for good reason, over The Economy. But I did read Matt Taibbi's recent article about the agency in Rolling Stone. If even half of his reporting is accurate, why aren't more people outraged? One senator has asked the SEC to explain itself, but why isn't everyone on Capitol Hill, and in the White House, also on this?

Pictures are of Baltimore's Berger Chocolate Cremes, possibly the best cookies on the planet. Back in early August, I was, unfortunately, reminded of them by the helpful Ms. Complaint Department on her blog Fat Chat (she is decidedly not fat but you know how we all define "fat" differently) and I have not stopped eating them ever since.

And check out her report from yesterday about how she survived Hurricane Irene.

Relationship between Berger cookies and SEC? None, I just couldn't find a blog-worthy picture of the SEC.

Root Boy!

San Francisco Margo (AKA Margaret) sent me this picture. On the left you see the late great Root Boy Slim, one of life's more eccentric performers. I don't know who the guy is on his left. Root Boy played at the long-gone Psychedeli in Bethesda where Doug and I (and Margo) saw The Root many times. We also saw him at the Warner Theater downtown near the White House, and at the University of Maryland. He was a hoot, was The Root. He had many memorable songs, but Boogie Till You Puke was one of my favorites. I also liked Christmas at K-Mart, and the Rootettes were wonderful. It was a long, long time ago -- late 70s -- but amazingly the memories are still fresh. And we did. Boogie till we puked that is (or at least I puked). TMI?

Now if I can just find my Root Boy glasses I'll post a picture of them too.

James, my grandkitty, and his racing stripes.

Hey! Wake up. In one week we've had an earthquake, a tornado (to the east), and now a hurricane is coming. Not to worry, they say.

Hosta Hospital.

Next door neighbor's deer-mauled hostas. Bottom picture taken 8/19; top picture taken 8/26. I asked her if I could dig up her hostas that were nothing more than stubs to see if I could nurse them back to health before the end of summer. Two are doing very well, two are at least off the critical list, but one is still in intensive care. My suggestion is that she put these pots on her very high deck so that next year the deer won't get them unless they learn to climb stairs.

My only damage from yesterday's earthquake: my Keith Richards bobble head doll fell off his perch. But no injuries.

The last time I posted about my Keith bobble head doll (can you tell how much I love him?) someone offered me 100 bucks for it. Let's see if the bidding has gone up in the interim.

Maybe I should tidy up that perch of Keith's. If there's a flat empty surface in my home it quickly becomes un-empty.

Buckeye butterfly (thanks Anonymous) on Russian sage. Or should it be russian sage? Link to God's Blog.

I like to read the comments to blog posts just as much as I like to read the original posts. This writer did a great job of capturing the nuttiness of blog comments.

Kittens! Robert in black, James in gray.

You may have to go to a full screen to see these videos.

These little guys were born on Long Island in mid-June and are happily living now in Brooklyn in my daughter's almost fully unpacked apartment. School starts soon for her so she won't have as much time to take videos of them.

I want to bee this lady and wear this outfit.

Credit: Bill Cunningham, The New York Times, August 14, 2011.

My frogs. I spend a lot of time creeping up on them. They seem quite content. Not as exciting as keeping bees but I love them just as much.

There are at least four in my little pond. All different sizes. I think they are known as green frogs (Lithobates clamitans).

All 'I Love Lucy' lovers should check out the Lucy fashion show over at The Complaint Department. It will make you smile.

Here's the Lucy Fashion show.
These pictures show what remains of a book my daughter once owned and apparently used quite a lot. It's missing a chunk at the back but I've never been able to throw it out. She would, in a New York minute (ha).

I love finding a box in the mail. Especially when it has local honey in it.

Thanks to the hard work, and generosity, of Kathy at No Rhyme or Reason I have this beautiful and delicious honey. Here's her very interesting post on her honey harvesting this year. If I can't or won't have my own home-harvested honey, I know I can depend on the kindness of bloggers. My plan is to use it on toast. But first I have to find some other daily food or meal to give up because once I start eating this honey on toast I'll overdo it, as is my foodie way.
Thanks again Kathy!

The Red Elephant on New Hampshire Avenue. And his owner.

I noticed the other day that this house near me (on NH Avenue extended) has some new features. So I stopped to take some pictures and the owner strolled out to greet me. He was a friendly guy, didn't act or look peculiar, but let's face it: he has a giant red elephant, a giant tricycle, part of a catamaran maybe (?), and a giant frog (see roof) in front of his house, which otherwise looks abandoned. He created a beautiful metal gate out of ... stuff. I complimented him on his fascinating house, but I was too embarrassed and surprised by his presence to ask really pertinent questions: why do you do this? do you live inside that house? what are you making/growing in that big building behind your house? (A few years ago someone who works at a plant nursery across the street told me that the big building behind the elephant house is a factory but he didn't know what kind.) Note hand-written sign on house: "Industrial Art." Eccentric people rule!

One of my froggies. He lives in the pond that my bees used as their personal water fountain last year. And a note about the Denver County Fair.

A few days ago Kitt from Denver reported on the Denver County Fair. Here's a second review from the New York Times. Kitt out-reports The Times because she mentioned the fried Fruit Loops and the performance by Devo.

This time last year I was gearing up to work at the Montgomery County Fair, where I co-manned/personed a bee demonstration booth for a 4-hour shift (or was it 3 hrs but felt like 4?). It was hot as blazes, I knew very little, and although I'm glad I did it, I decided not to do it again this year. Maybe next year. I still think of myself as a beekeeper. Yesterday I was strafed a couple of times by buzzing insects that were either bumblebees or other bee-like creatures. I was unfazed, as usual, but if it had happened last year I would have assumed it was one of my honey bees and that she was angry about something and that I needed to find out why she wasn't happy and do something about it. Now. [Sort of like an over-protective mother. I should know.]

I'm making a tee shirt quilt for Stargazer, who lives way, way on the other side of the US.

After reading her post about, among other things, an outworn tee shirt, I offered impulsively to turn the shirt (along with some others of hers) into a quilt. I'm so glad I did. This will be a test to see how long it takes me. I'm guessing 6 weeks. It will be a tied quilt, not a quilted quilt. Quilted quilts take me years to finish. But a tied quilt that involves only minimal piecing shouldn't take long at all. One rule: I never sew until after 8 or 9 at night, often later. Something about not being able to sew during day-light hours .... If I was willing (able?) to sew during the day I bet I could finish it in a couple of weeks. We'll never know.

And after I finish her quilt, maybe I'll finally finish my own tee shirt quilt that I started years ago and just found. (I've GOT to clean out my quilting closet.)

Love the tee shirt from Minnesota (bad picture at top).

My answer to the question posed by this beekeeper is "yes."

I'm still reading all the emails from my local beekeeping group. This popped up yesterday. I apologize to all the successful beekeepers out there who may read this, because I am definitely still pro-bee even though my two most recent posts about bees were kinda negative. But I do think this lady should re-consider. I'm not sure if she's a physician or not. She needs an editor, but who doesn't? I know that she loves her bees. And may be a bit of a risk-taker.


"My sting reactions have been getting progressively worse ...and yesterday I was hospitalized shortly, not because of anaphylaxis, but because my diaphragm went into spasms, interrupting my breathing about 10 minutes after a second sting while top feeding (the stings WERE my fault and I have not been very good at wearing protective gear). I was fine after all the usual treatments, but told that the next time I get multiple stings I may not make to the ER even with an Epipen.

"... I have put a lot of time, effort and love (not to mention $) into my 2 hives and they are doing very well. I hate to give them up and was looking for some feedback from beekeepers. I am well aware that physicians do their best to strike fear into one's heart, and as a physician know that they do speak some truth, but may not understand bees or their upkeep.

"I will be starting immuntolerance therapy and am ordering more serious protective gear. Am I crazy for wanting to keep this up?"

Photos: two of the very, very few nasturtiums I got this year. I love them (modest, edible, and totally deer-proof) but am not very successful with them. Too little water? Too few (or too many) nutrients? Too little (or too much) sun? My ignorance about them is huge.

A quick summary, from an almost sane friend (her choice of words, not mine), about the Debt Ceiling "Crisis."

First it was Obama's penis that was in the limelight.
Then Boehner challenged Obama to a penis duel.
Then Harry Reid says, "I TOO have a PENIS"
To which Schumer says, "I have a penis, too, albeit a smaller one, perhaps."
Then Eric Cantor said, "My penis is bigger than Boehner's penis,"
Then Boehner says, "Not so fast, Cantor."
And now today, Mitch McConnell emerges and says, "My penis is the biggest of all."
And he calls Obama and says, "Do you sir not have a penis?"
(Note that Nancy Pelosi has no penis. We presume so at any rate.)
Whose penis will prevail? We must have confidence that everything will be OK because in the end they will all get up at the microphone and say . . . "Aren't our penises wonderful!"
Gabby Giffords had the last laugh saying "Put your penises away. You won't be needing them because I'm in the house tonight!"

The authoress's name will be omitted to protect her impending security clearance. It's a tricky world out there these days.

Gabby Giffords returned to the Congress today, which brings tears to my eyes. Our gun laws are ridiculous and I don't care who I piss off by saying so.

A friend notes that Princess Anne's ensemble from the April royal wedding was called 'coleslaw.'

Project Runway style guru Tim Gunn said of Princess Anne's little number: "...She looked like ...coleslaw." Project R. is a show I watched once 2 years ago under pressure from my daughter and have never seen since -- I am essentially unaware of fashion. But I do appreciate the mostly harmless snarkiness of royal-watching.

And I guess Anne's dress DOES look like coleslaw.

Silly but better.

Another royal wedding today. Beatrice decided against wearing her toilet seat hat again. I believe it was my sister who coined that phrase for Beatrice's April hat. So fitting. It's not just the shape of the April hat that brings to mind a toilet seat. It's the color too.

These hats are called fascinators and they are.

Andrew Sullivan may be right. I hope he's not, but I think he is.

From Sullivan's blog The Daily Dish, published by The Daily Beast.

Are They Aiming For Impeachment?

They did the last Democratic president; and they feel even more strongly that this one is illegitimate, depite his thumping majority in the last election. Here's the scenario. The House GOP pushes for completely unserious Boehner plan (including a balanced budget amendment) that they know will be vetoed; they then filibuster the Reid plan in the Senate, forcing Obama to invoke a 14th Amendment executive prerogative, which they will then turn around and impeach him for.

Far-fetched? I hope so. But every time you think you have reached the end of Republican extremism, they manage to move further out of the solar system. But it will take a huge effort by the propaganda machine on the right to make Obama's decision not to default his fault, rather than the GOP's. At this point, if the Reid plan cannot make it through the Senate on time or through the House at all, I'm beginning to believe that Obama should invoke this controversial power, given the extreme danger the stalemate is creating for both the US and the global economy, and challenge the courts to reverse it.

I suspect it would be popular among Independents. And allow Obama to regain the initiative over events dictated by a single faction in one party in one chamber whose fanaticism is only matched by their irresponsibility.

Cartoon by Liza Donnelly of The New Yorker.

Many male actors of a certain age (40s) look exactly alike to me. Tell me that these two guys don't look like twins. (Added Mark Wahlberg per JGH.)

Maybe I've developed prosopagnosia? I never used to have this problem. Maybe it's just aging. I know these two guys have different names -- Brad Pitt and Matt Damon -- but without a label I can't tell you which is which.

Postscript: It's good to hoard old New Yorkers -- or almost-old New Yorkers. I found this Oliver Sacks article on face blindness. He has it! Now I'll re-read the article to see if I should worry.

"50 Years of Stupid Grammar Advice" by Geoffrey K. Pullum

A friend (Stephanie) who knows me well sent this 2-year-old article in order to mess with my mind. It was published in The Chronicle of Higher Education, a publication with a very good reputation.

I toiled for decades as an editor, and loved every minute of it (the editing part, not the toiling part). I kept copies of Strunk and White (that's a picture of my 1972 edition, showing lots of wear and tear) and Fowler's Modern English Usage close at hand, and referred to them weekly, if not daily. Now I learn that S & W have fallen on hard times, at least with some academics. I've read the Chronicle article twice and had one slightly contentious "discussion" about it with another smartypants (besides me) who thinks he knows what's up in the grammar world.

Now that I don't edit for a living I don't care quite so much that people are criticizing S & W, but I care a little.

Conclusions? None so far. Research continues though.

Beekeeper Steve, who inherited my aggressive hive in May, reports the following event in his back yard, less than 3 miles from my house.

"...I went to another location around 4:15 (it was 100 degrees) to feed a … hive. The goal was to open the outer cover, remove the screened inner cover, pry the floats from the hive top feeder, feed, reassemble & go. I removed the outer cover & all was well. The feeder and inner cover was covered and packed with bees. I sprayed them with sugar syrup and pried the inner cover off and gently set it on the outer cover...they were agitated by this and started bumping me so I walked about 100 yards away & they stopped pursuit. I gave myself a moment and went back to release the floats & pour in 2 gallons of syrup. When I arrived back they were still agitated so I decided just to pour the syrup into the feeder & call it a day....well I got 1/4 into 1 gallon and I was covered by bees (literally) I walked away....I walked 1/4 mile (seriously) away from the hive before they were no longer stinging & bumping me....I gave myself another minute but decided to finish the job....I went back....poured the remainder of the 2 gallons, put it back together and was stung countless times....I had to walked over 1/4 mile away from the hive & there were still stragglers stinging & bumping....I counted over 120 stings in my suit and had about 20 stings that found their way into my skin....

"Since this hive built its way up to 3 mediums it has been more aggressive than my others but I have never experienced such a thing. It was like what you see on TV. I felt like I was on an episode of "I survived" and started to re-think all of the poor decisions that got me to this point - I'm guessing time of day, extreme heat & dearth contributed but dang! I have no plans of going back into that hive until September!"

The bee mailbox isn't mine -- it's in my neighborhood and awfully cute but I don't dare get one. It's such a great target for roaming teens with baseball bats. Not that I ever see such beings on my street but late into the night I know some drive down this way occasionally.

While I'm sure the above story is true, I kinda doubt that Steve had to walk 1/4 mile from his home. That's a long way, but I do believe it FELT like 1/4 of a mile under those circumstances.

I miss my bees, but this experience is precisely why I gave them away. I want to be a beekeeper but I'm simply not brave enough (or strong enough).

104 in Silver Spring at 4 PM.

I like woolly thyme and it likes the exposure on this patio. But it grows OVER, not just between, the flagstones, Should I trim it back?

For now, I'm leaving it alone. But if I'm lucky enough to get thyme to grow between most of the stones, then maybe I will try trimming it back.

My potatoes.

These made a nice medium bowl of great German potato salad. No mayo, just a little oil and vinegar and chives and salt and pepper. And maybe some mustard? I've had this post in draft for a week or so. I hesitated to post it because I knew I'd have to post a video of "My Sharona" at the same time. Whenever my brain says "my potatoes" an earworm makes my brain play the song "My Sharona." It was a hit in 1979 and maybe I listened to it on the car radio a lot. Not sure, but it's in my head and apparently it will be there till the end. (After all these years I still like it.)

And I just checked on the status of The Knack. Bit of a sad story. Lead singer Doug Fieger died of brain and lung cancer in 2010 at age 57. Cancer sucks. But he left behind this song and that's good.

My coffee-stained napkin. Maybe it's a sign of peace to come.

But don't count on it.

My first garlic and shallots.

I didn't know you had to let them dry out before using. I guess my old hand-me-up (from my son) shoe isn't the best place to do that but I wanted to show the size of my first-ever garlic bulbs.