Exactly.

Four o'clocks at my front door.

I didn't plan to have only these creamy white blooms by my front steps but that's how it turned out. A couple of years ago I planted about two dozen 4 o'clock seeds under the window at the left. Now they are spreading everywhere but I'm OK with that. The vines crawling up the railing are red cardinal climbers that will soon produce tons of little red flowers for the hummingbirds to feed on. I'll never be a garden planner. I prefer random acts of planting.

I could watch this on a continuous loop. Very calming.

Colbert at his finest.

It's long and it's sometimes uncomfortable but godlove S. Colbert. (Who I just learned was sick of the Comedy Central job and would have quit soon anyway even if the Letterman job hadn't come along.)

Summer storms.

Last Thursday afternoon. Back yard looks pretty calm and serene.

Oh wait. What's going on here, on the right?

Ack!

At about 4:30 PM on Thursday the winds howled, the rain came sideways, maybe thunder and lightning -- I don't remember because it happened so fast and the windows in my living room were emitting a high-pitched wail that made the cats flee. I don't think the storm lasted more than 15-20 minutes, but when it ended the neighborhood was a mess.

Our damage was similar to that of neighbors behind us, but at least our trees didn't hit houses or cars (or people!). Just fences and benches. Sometime during the first night after the storm, at least one deer found her way into what had been a hosta-filled, deer-proofed garden. She nibbled off just the hosta flowers and ignored the foliage (oh, she'll be back for those leaves soon). There are too many holes in the elaborate fencing to fix before a contractor can get into this mess and remove the stump and the massive trunk attached to it.

It's now Tuesday morning and the chain saws, cranes, and heavy moving equipment have been working almost non-stop since Thursday. Not in my yard, but in yards where the damage was much worse. They even worked throughout the night the first day or two--so many cables and overhead wires came down that the utility companies swooped in to help clean up. (This is why you'll never hear me complain about Pepco, our local electricity carrier. Those people work hard and fast and I'm so grateful to them all.) Today we hope to see work starting on our big mess.

This summer Doug will devote much time to rebuilding his lovely bamboo structures, recreating a nice curve to the bedding area, and replanting bedding plants. I'll help but mostly I'll focus on getting the deer fencing back in shape. The neighborhood is thick with hungry fawns.

Here's an old picture of his bamboo project. See that nice redbud on the right? Gone with the wind.

"Better Call Saul"

Michael McKean in the new HBO series Better Call Saul is adorable. On the show, he suffers from “idiopathic environmental intolerance attributed to electromagnetic fields" or I.E.I.-E.M.F., which you can read about here and here. I didn't watch Breaking Bad; too many guns, smashed faces, and spurts of blood for my taste. [I'm assuming that's the kind of violence present in BB.] The spin-off, BCSaul, stands alone I think. Very black humor. Very enjoyable. Not too much violence so far.

The New Yorker article on IEI-EMF includes the intriguing info below. I'll spend some time today -- while watching yet another big snow fall -- trying to figure out exactly where this area is.

A handful of others [who suffer from IEI-EMF] have moved to homes within the United States National Radio Quiet Zone, a vast area of mountainous terrain on the Virginia-West Virginia border, where Wi-Fi, cell phones, and other technologies are severely limited to protect a nearby radio telescope.

Hello. Do I know you?

I had cataract surgery on Monday--successful, easy, painless. But here's the thing no one tells you about cataract surgery. If, like me, you wait until the cataract is huge and dense you come away from the surgery with a brand-new view of the world -- which everyone said was going to be so great. But things that were fuzzy and rosy-looking before (my face, for example) are now alarmingly unfuzzy when I look in the mirror. Now I see someone with many wrinkles, hairs in places they shouldn't be, huge pores, and a lot of gray in her hair. I've apparently been walking around on this planet thinking I looked one way only to learn that, no, I didn't look like that.


It's weird to age 10 years in one day. So what have I learned about myself? Well, I'm way more vain than I ever knew. And way older. It took me a day or two to realize that I look the same to everyone else; I'm the only one who had the shock of seeing myself as I truly am.

So I ordered a big supply of these powder papers -- I'd rather look like an old lady wearing a tad too much powder than an old lady who has given up caring how she looks.

Ordering the papers triggered a lovely memory however. I'm fairly sure that I first bought this item about 20 years ago on one of my fun day-trips to New York City with a good friend. She introduced me to Zitomer Pharmacy, a family-owned, independent drug store on the upper East Side with aisles packed with ladies stuff. Looking at pictures of it now, it seems very high-end, but 20 years ago it just seemed quirky.

She's back! Let it begin.

Palin said, “It is a significant step, of course, for anyone to publicly announce that they’re interested. Who wouldn’t be interested? Who wouldn’t be interested when they have been blessed with opportunities to speak about what is important to this country and for this country?”

Still, Palin said that she is not yet ramping up a national political operation. Instead, Palin said, she is contemplating her political future and does not feel rushed to make a final decision.

Lately I've been thinking, in a general way, about the up-coming presidential primary/ nomination/ debate/ election season. But I wasn't prepared for Palin to pop back up. Fun!

Will Tina Fey appear on SNL tonight?

Name this plant.

Every winter I see this bright green plant in the park next door. Always in this exact spot. I don't remember ever seeing any blooms on it, and I don't notice it in other parts of the park. But it's not like I ever made a project of noticing. Maybe this year I WILL make a project of noticing. 

Happy Cold, Snowy Weather! [to those few of us who like winter.]

Georgetown mystery.

Spotted at the corner of Wisconsin Avenue and Volta Place in Georgetown (DC) today. I always admire the Lutheran Church at this corner. Their sense of gardening matches my own -- whimsical, unplanned, over-packed, riotous. Today however, I discovered a new feature that may be the church's doing. This big fungus was manually affixed to a tree next to the sidewalk by the church. My sister will know what it is. But I wonder if my sister will know why it's there? She used to live in Georgetown but I don't think she drove 4 hours from her current home in the northern Appalachian Mountains to put it there. On the other hand, my sister -- an obsessive mushroom forager -- is whimsical and prone to unplanned, riotous acts so who knows.

Here's the church in October:

Remembering Stephen Colbert by Rob Sheffield, Rolling Stone, Issue 1224

The American political scene has lost one of its towering characters with the untimely demise of Stephen Colbert. He was 50. Feared by many, hated by some, watched by all, Colbert leaves an uncertain legacy for the media he revolutionized and the culture he altered. Without him on TV four nights a week, there is a truth-shaped hole in our national political discourse. "Anyone can read the news to you," he announced when The Colbert Report debuted in 2005. "I promise to feel the news at you."

He kept that promise, which is how he came to define our era. For so many of us, Colbert sums up the optimism and idealism of the Bush years, along with his hero and mentor Bill O'Reilly, whom he called Papa Bear. "I emulate you," he once told O'Reilly in a poignant appearance on Fox News. "I want to bring your message of love and peace to a younger audience. People in their sixties, people in their fifties – people who don't watch your show."

As a boy, Colbert idolized Richard Nixon and Geraldo Rivera, and he once spoke of his dream of growing up to become Nancy Reagan. His family heritage was Irish – "I could sit toe-to-toe at a potato table with anybody" – and he remained a lifelong devout Catholic. As he once explained on his show, "Catholicism is clearly superior. Don't believe me? Name one Protestant denomination that could afford a $660 million sexual-abuse settlement." But he remained open-minded. "I believe that everyone has the right to their own religion, be you Hindu, Jewish or Muslim. I believe there are infinite paths to accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior." 

As a child, he pronounced his family name "Coal-bert"; it was only later in life that he adopted the French pronunciation, "Coal-bear." As he explained, it was all part of his plan to sneak past the gatekeepers of the left-wing media. "It's a French name, just to get the cultural elites on my side," he told O'Reilly. "Bill, you know you’ve got to play the game that the media elites want you to." In 1983, he legally changed his middle name to "Gettysburg Address."

His rise in the media world was swift and ruthless. Soon after joining The Daily Show in 1997, Colbert attracted national attention for his uncompromising passion for the truth. As he put it, "When I think about truth, I touch myself." After Jon Stewart took over The Daily Show in 1999, it became America's most hard-hitting TV news program, with Colbert as its breakout star. (He also stole Comedy Central's 2002 roast for Chevy Chase, whom he hailed as a "comedy lamprey, just sucking the joy out of everything it touches.")

He was the kind of "Blame America Last" pundit who thrived in the post-9/11 years – able to reduce complex issues to common-sense tidbits, uninhibited by facts. He introduced America to the twin principles of "Truthiness" and "Wikiality," where anything is true if it feels true, or if someone claims it is, correctly predicting, "The revolution will not be verified."

If there was a moment when he officially took over as America’s leading political thinker, it was the night he hosted the 2006 White House Correspondents' Association Dinner, speaking directly to President George W. Bush, who sat with him onstage. "Tonight it is my privilege to celebrate this president," he announced. "We both get it. Guys like us, we’re not some brainiacs on the nerd patrol. We’re not members of the 'factinista.' We go straight from the gut. Right, sir? That's where the truth lies – right down here in the gut."

Colbert kept following that gut, and America followed along. He ran for president in 2008, only to be denied his spot on the ballot due to behind-the-scenes manipulations by the South Carolina Democratic Party. He hosted the March to Keep Fear Alive in 2010, and wrote the bestselling manifesto I Am America (And So Can You!). But his greatest achievement was The Colbert Report. There was nothing like it on TV – yet that's because everything on TV was like it. Colbert was no different from most of his fellow media pundits – he just went a step or two further. In the Colbert era, America got far more Colbert-like, to the point where Congress seems to be reciting his transcripts verbatim. ("Net neutrality is Obamacare for the Internet" – that's not Colbert, it's the junior senator from Texas.)

Colbert will be remembered for his personal courage after his 2007 wrist injury, which inspired him to campaign against "wrist violence" with his WristStrong bracelets. (It also inspired him to get addicted to painkillers.) He will be remembered for his tireless crusade against bears. But most of all, he will be remembered for truth. Nobody summed up the current state of the American mind as brilliantly, as honestly, as terrifyingly as Stephen Colbert. It's somehow fitting that he left us prematurely and under such mysterious circumstances. He will be missed – even if someone very much like him returns to the airwaves in the coming months. Yet the culture of truthiness will survive him. With or without Colbert, we're all still living in the Colbert era, with no end in sight.

 

Thrift store buys.

I got these for $7.50. They're for my African violets. Yesterday I posted 10 minutes after midnight. This will be posted about 25 minutes after midnight. I think I'm playing silly games with the nablopomo theme. Pushing the envelope. I amuse myself.

Wildlife in my yard.

 

A cute little chipmunk was hanging out today under my front porch bird feeder. Clarence enjoyed watching him root around.

 

This notice was just posted near our driveway. It's not a surprise; we learned months ago that it was going to happen. Soon, in theory, there could be people shooting at deer just yards away from my house, from 6 PM until 6 AM, Monday through Friday. Unless the deer figure it out and stay in my yard, where they spend much of their day anyway.

 

The green shows the protected parkland where they thrive and where the hunt will take place. Our house is on one of the white roads directly bordering the park. The deer like to linger and graze and sleep and give birth on the fringes of the park, which is precisely where our house is. It will be strange during the hunt. I'll be listening. I'm in favor of the hunt, for many reasons. But I'll be glad when it's over.

Hopeless?

I accidentally left this plant, this very old plant, outside during our first frost, maybe even two frosts. I think it's not likely to recover but I'll leave it on this enclosed porch for the winter and maybe in the spring it will find a way to recover.

My mother gave me the mother of this plant in 1968. Sad to lose it but everything is mortal, right?

I refuse to eat meat that is more well-traveled than I am. (Which means I really should avoid eating in most restaurants.)

I've added an addendum to my recent post about turkey-pardoning.

All in a row. Clarence, Georgette, and Lucy. Watching birds.

And putting nose prints all over the windows.

Lowline in Manhattan.

First there was New York's popular High Line. Now the city might get a Lowline. A park under the city. I'm such a pessimist (something I hope to change in 2015) that I have trouble imagining this working. Here's to me being wrong!

I'm sorry, but it's my opinion that they'll have to build a mighty strong fortress around these solar devices to keep them intact. They might as well have a sign that says "kick me, smash me." My son, no reservoir of optimism, disagrees with me. He says, basically, "if people aren't breaking windows on that street why would they break that?" So maybe he's right.

 

My happy African violets.

After years of neglecting a small collection of African violets I decided to start watering them on a regular basis. They rewarded me by getting healthy and blooming a lot. I'm also growing new plants all the time by rooting leaves. I have so many plants now that they are taking over one corner of the living room. I've given some away but I need to give even more away or stop growing them.

Note to anyone who comes into my house: ask me to give you one or two or three.

Only 2 more posts to go!

I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
...
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
 
Springsteen lyrics (from Dancing in the Dark) that keep going through my head. It's an exaggeration of course, but not entirely. 

I like weeding in Maryland, but maybe Norway has really special weeds.

I wonder if everyone who tries this "post every day in November" thing whines at the end about not having anything to say? I know one other blogger who does (just a smidge). I confess that I didn't visit many other NaBloPoMo bloggers during the month (I don't like that acronym, and also NaNoWriMo -- they sound like parodies of neighborhoods in lower New York City). Maybe now that the pressure (ha!) is off about daily posting I'll explore the other participants.

You are so right Mr. President. It IS puzzling.

"It is a little puzzling that I do this every year, but .... it's nice once in a while just to say, 'Happy Thanksgiving.'" About pardoning a big turkey at the White House.

Those poor teenagers. Mr. O, it's time to let them avoid this kind of thing. One reporter said there were some subtle eye-rolls, as if to say "daaaaaaad, pleeeeeeaaaase let us out of here." Another reporter said: "When asked if she wanted to pet the pardoned turkey, Malia simply said, “Nah.”

-----------------
Update: 12/2/2014: Little did I know last week that the Obama girls would inspire TurkeyGate. In case you've avoided Internet "news" lately you might not know that a lame Congressional staffer had to quit her job over a mean-spirited Facebook comment.

"Dear Sasha and Malia, I get your both in those awful teen years but you're a part of the First Family. Try showing a little class. At least respect the part you play. Then again, your mother and father don't respect their positions very much, or the nation for that matter, so I'm guessing you're coming up a little short in the 'good role model' department.

"Dress like you deserve respect, not a spot in a bar."

Presidential daughter in 2004, age 23. Addressing the press.

There is so much about that comment that makes me angry. First, attacking two young girls, 13 and 16. Second, assuming that they are having "awful teen years." And third, libeling their parents by saying they don't respect their jobs or their country. I predict that Fox News is already courting Eliz Lauten for a spot on their channel. She's just their type. Mean and stupid.