Americans with Disabilities Act anniversary

All this week I have been seeing and hearing that July 26, Monday was the 20th anniversary of the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act or ADA by President Bush, senior. I had not realized that it was that long ago.

I have not seen much in the way of results from this act, actually. I know, from reading on the web, that my old dormitory in Graduate School, International House at the University of Chicago has finally been retrofitted for wheelchair access. Decades after I lived there. Still it is good to see.

Ramps still seem to be constructed at too high a pitch for many people with manual wheelchairs to use independently. I have often thought that the people who use them ought to be consulted, rather than merely putting able-bodied architects to work on them.

Physical access isn't really the primary issue, though, in my opinion. Financial access is the primary issue. In a world in which able-bodied people work at home from their computers, this functionality should be available to the disabled as well.

Micro-entrepreneurship should be encouraged as well. The Department of Labor, the Small Business Administration and even the Social Security Administration all comment on their web-sites that disabled people have a higher success rate than non-disabled people in starting our own businesses and making them succeed.

Barriers exist here, however, and I think that it is important to bring them down. The greatest barrier is the paternalism of the culture of disability benefits that has been set by the Social Security Administration itself. For years I have called this the "institutionalized poverty of disability benefits."

The amount that people can earn while still receiving benefits needs to be set higher. The discrimination against the "non-blind" disabled (SSA's designation) in favor of the "blind" disabled needs to be set right. Specifically the earning formula for the "non-blind" needs to be raised to that of the "blind" category. Or, better yet, people need to be allowed to work half-time at whatever is customary and usual for their field in their area (or half the median income in their area, if they are self-employed.) If this were done, there would be a greater incentive for many people to earn. The reason that it is so important to maintain the benefits is that if the cash benefit goes away so does medical care and that is so necessary that many people trade trying to get out of poverty for not living in fear of no medical care.

Greater earning power on the part of the disabled would decrease the need for ancillary services such as In-Home Support services that are constantly endangered by budget cuts. Greater earning power on the part of the disabled would increase the tax revenue bases from the federal down to the local level.

Another barrier for micro-entrepreneurs is the lack of capital and the lack of marketing and networking skills. I think that local communities could do a great deal to help by setting up grant programs and mentoring and networking help. Local Chambers of Commerce could do a great deal here by establishing memberships at no cost for the first year or two for small businesses owned by disabled entrepreneurs who can show that they are at a cash disadvantage. Community service organizations could join in as well, providing, along with the Chambers, mentoring and networking help.

Individuals, neighbors and friends, church members could help too by patronizing such small businesses and thereby giving the best encouragement that there is--increase in cash-flow.

Poverty does not exist only in the Third World; it is here in our local communities. Many of the poorest members of our communities are disabled--disabled by poverty as well as by the physical bodies which do not function as well as others do. Lets change this and make the disabled fully economically empowered as the ADA originally intended.

Look for and support the businesses of your disabled friends and neighbors. Please. Thank you.

I am grateful for being able to make this message available and I hope that it helps others as well as myself.

Garbling Herbs

Saturday I spent a delightful two hours garbling peppermint. Garbling is the old-fashioned and technical term used by herbalists to denote the process of stripping dried herb leaves from their stems. When I was finished I had a quart bag of the most beautiful, delicious smelling peppermint leaves and a pile of equally aromatic stems.

The peppermint was organically grown and then dried by my friend, G, who has a magnificent garden in the hills above Silicon Valley. She generously shared her harvest with me.

I love the word, "garbling". Like a little kid with a new word, I have been repeating it every chance I get over the last week.

The weather has returned to normal for us. Cool in the mornings and warm but not hot in the afternoons. A blessed and beautiful sea breeze comforts us and makes it possible to enjoy the long days, rather than trying to hide from the light, which also means heat.

Last night as I opened the curtain in one room, to let this delicious air through, I noticed that my neighbor's pomegranate tree still has flowers on it. I have been wondering for several weeks how much longer the flowers would last and when the fruit would show. It is there now. Small, shiny red balls set just above the flowers look like Christmas ornaments. So beautiful and so promising!

Another friend brought me a peck of Gravenstein apples yesterday. I should freeze apple slices for later, but will probably share them instead. Peeling is one of the small hand tasks my hands no longer like to do and I prefer to comfort them with easy tasks rather than push them in frustration.

Gratitude is large in my mind this morning. Gratitude for beautiful things from friends' gardens, for the climate that I live in and for the gift of electricity. The house fan is running in the background, for the house is still stuffy. Without electricity none of the fans would work; the computer could never have even been imagined, let alone become so ubiquitous in our lives. Our lives would not be the same at all.

Still, while we depend on technology, we also do what our ancestors did, harvesting fruit and garbling herbs. I like the connections and am glad to be alive at this time.

Summer Notes

I seem to have taken an unintentional vacation from blogging! Summer's pace has quickened. More visits from friends, truly one of the best parts of this season. More decluttering of my house--will this never end? More product planning and product making. (A friend told me just this week that with one of my lavender sachets tucked into the pillowcase, she took the most refreshing nap she had ever had. I am pleased!)

I am weathering a heat wave, not my favorite part of summer. New, strong fans help a great deal. As I type, windows are open and fans are pulling cool air into the house. Soon it will be time to put the computer to sleep for the day, shut all the windows, pull all the blinds and curtains and hunker down for the long hours of daylight. It will be hot today and the cooling dark is a long way away. I am telling myself that it will come.

I am reading another Susan Wittig Albert book, one of her Beatrix Potter series. Very different voice, style and characters from her China Bayles series, which I absolutely love.

Need to do some research into the old USDA calorie counting book. Portions commonly used or something like that. Quite a few of the brand names have changed; the culprits remain the same--too many calories from carbs and fats.

Have noticed that consumption of too much soluble fiber increases chronic lower back pain. But what is called a "low-residue" diet, according to my Internet searches, is ghastly both from the standpoint of taste and nutrition. Where is the midway point? That always is the question.

The plumbing in the house was sluggish. Neighbors suggested, after plunging for me two times in three days, that the addition of a biodegradable micro-organism product for drains put into my "clean-out" drain might help. It did! Hurrah!

So today will be a day for fans, and a wet towel around my neck. I found the ice cap last night and was pleased--now do I have ice in the freezer? A friend will bring lunch, Safeway will deliver and maybe I can take a nap this afternoon. Then there will be one more day of this particular heat-wave and it should break. When it does, the feel of the air-flow off the ocean, the Bay Area's "natural air-conditioning" will be a benediction, reminding me that what one friend said recently, "Trust in God. God does always hear our prayers", will be true.

I am grateful for the cool air, the electricity that powers my fans and for survival. Hot weather always makes me think of the pioneers and reminds me that we are not in charge of the universe.

Lavender

Lavender is one of the most beautiful herbs that can be planted in a garden. In a Mediterranean climate the plants will last a very long time. Mine is over twenty years old. Even when it is not blooming, it is a lovely plant and while the flowers are used for culinary, medicinal, decorative and personal care products, the leaves are also fragrant.

Here is my one remaining lavender plant in bloom



I believe that this particular lavender plant is English lavender. My favorite, Hidcote, which was a deeper, bluer color, died out a few years ago. It was planted too close to the edge of the planting bed and did not have enough room. After a decade, lavender will be a big plant, so give it plenty of room.

Culinary uses include Lavender Sugar (see the link to the Spice House at the right), Lavender Chocolate cupcakes, lavender syrup (think addition to lemonade), and all kinds of scones, cupcakes and cookies. Lavender sugar is delicious on toast as a lovely way to start off the day.

Medicinal uses include headache remedies and little dream pillows to aid in sleep. Lavender has such a strong fragrance though, that many people find it overwhelming. It can make a headache worse if you are one of the people who has a sensitivity to it.

Decorative uses include bouquets, both fresh and dried, and wreaths. Lavender sachets can fill a bowl and will make a much nicer air freshener than anything manufactured in a spray can or plug-in. Lavender sachets have long been used in linen chests and closets with stored clothes and shoes. Nice in suitcases too!

Lavender soap is beautiful and lavender is used in fragrances as well.

Here is a big bowl of my lavender sachets. The day that I was working on them, I found them to be so pretty that I had to bring them altogether.



I love the charm squares, small squares of fabric that are pre-cut as part of the quilting industry and the pretty ribbons. Making these brings together my love of plants and my love of fabric and color. The sachets would be pretty on a wreath, too.

I am grateful for the fine old plant that still graces my garden and for the lovely fabrics that I am finding from other Etsy sellers. Grateful, too, for the beautiful, fine weather we are enjoying now that summer is here.

Remembering

Today, I have been remembering my father, who died eleven years ago today. He was the soul of patience and kindness and one of the most devout (although private about it) Catholics I have ever known. I still miss him, although I think it is fair to say that I no longer grieve except in the general sense perhaps, that grieving, like original sin, is a part of the human condition.

I lit a candle for him on Gratefulness.org http://bit.ly/9e9ZxN Gratefulness is one of my all time favorite web sites. I was intrigued the very first time that I found it that it is possible to light the candle by clicking on the link--and then the flame flickers! It is lovely.

Papa was a handsome man, with the good looks known as "black Irish"--dark, dark brown hair with red and gold highlights, thick, curly hair and green eyes. He also had long, dark eyelashes. Mama commented on both the hair and the eyelashes in a kind of sighing, life-isn't-fair-tone, that men had all the luck. (Of course, I am sure that both attributes had helped attract her to him in the first place!)

He was not tall, but he was strong. Working after school and on weekends while he was young unloading groceries at the store's dock and stocking shelves had done for him what gym workouts do for young men today. Shoveling snow and using a push mower on the lawns of our houses as well as walking the dog kept him in shape until emphysema began to assert itself when he was in his sixties.

Shortly before I had polio, Papa was teaching me to ride a two-wheeled bike, with the "training wheels" gradually being raised on the back of it and I remember that Fall that he was teaching me to roller skate as well. He walked backwards, gently holding my hands, while I skated towards him until I could let go and then he was simply there to lend me confidence that he would catch me if I fell.

"Confidence that he would catch me if I fell", that sums up a lot about the the good fatherly relationship that he had with both his daughters. He was there for us in so many ways that we didn't even realize then, for we took it as normal that both parents would be there, but that now we look back from the vantage point of aging and see it for the tremendous gift that it was.

He took me to the airport with all my trunks and suitcases and just plain stuff when I left home for graduate school in Chicago. A few years earlier he had proudly walked my sister down the aisle of the little church we loved so much in Palo Alto, watching a few days later as her new husband's car and the u-haul it pulled rounded the corner and they drove out of sight, beginning the journey of their new life together in Ohio.

So many years later, eleven years ago this week, we all came together again as the choir he loved, and that I had once sung with, sang him home to his new life after death. I do not believe in eternal "rest", since I think it is too passive. I do hope for eternal rejoicing and I hope that includes a good bit of remembrance and reminiscing. (Papa was also blessed with the Irish gift of gab and a great story-teller.)

I don't believe that our culture values fatherhood enough, and I think that I have written about that before, here in this blog. I can remember that Papa did not like the sit-coms that were popular in the late 50's and early 60's because they made the fathers look like such dummies--or even fall-guys for the patient and always right wife, or the too smart kid. He most certainly did not fit that model!

I am grateful today for the life of this good man and the great gift of family life that I was given as a child. Grateful too for the way in which my parents instilled the old-fashioned virtues by living them every day in their marriage and their relationship to us.

It is good to have had such a father.

Frederick James Manor

February 16, 1920-June 8, 1999

Requiescat in Pace

Rejoice with the angels forever.

Blooming Now, Poppies in My Garden

Poppies, pink, coral and red have been putting on a show for most of the last month. For a time they were joined by delicate, pale blue love-in-mist. The effect was quite pretty. For the last week the poppies have made me think of Flanders Field--"the poppies blow, between the crosses row on row." It is so appropriate that the bloom around the time of Memorial Day. Here are a friend took yesterday with my camera when he joined me for lunch.





According to various seed sources I have consulted, poppies come in red, pink, lavender, coral, gold, purple and even white. I would like to see the whole array of colors planted and blooming somewhere.

Summer has come. The weather is warm, highs in the seventies. The windows are open letting in the most delicious breezes as well as the sounds of suburban life--doves cooing mixed with leaf blowers. Ah, well! The house is a bit stuffy in the evenings, but fairly comfortable. The transition from winter habits to summer ones goes gently, although I fear the time is coming for ice water, wet cloths around my neck and fans going to a noise level that makes me feel I will lose my mind. I hope not and am determined to enjoy this respite of near perfection for the time it lasts.

I am grateful for the poppies, the friend who planted them, who is now sailing down the coast of Ecuador to Peru with her husband on their boat. (See the link to the blog Sea of Change, if you would like to follow this adventure.) I think of her when I watch the poppies waving in the breeze.

I am thankful too, for trees, which lend their shade and soughing sound as the wind passes through to the ambiance of gentle summer days.

Hawthorn, Hope and Pentecost

Several years ago my friend who is studying to be an herbal practitioner told me that Hawthorn is an ancient healing tree: the berries, leaves and flowers can be brewed as tea and used as a tonic for heart problems. I have begun drinking a tea of Hawthorn berries and olive leaves and it is quite good. A few weeks ago I decided to search for the meaning of Hawthorn in the language of flowers and was rewarded in my search for it symbolizes hope.

It is so fitting to me that this tree would have this meaning for outside my house in the front patio is a fifty plus year old Hawthorn tree. Shortly after we moved into the house Papa cut the tree back to its stump, because he did not want a tree, which he was sure would become quite large, growing so close to the house. He did not, however, grind out the stump. Next spring a flurry of little saplings sprung up from the mother stump, like baby birds in a nest. He thought the tree would not survive that way, or at the very least, the saplings would not become very tall. Over the years the little forest of treelets has become quite tall and shades the corner of the house in much the same way that the mother tree would have done. It also shades my neighbor's yard, and that is why, I think, her dog likes that spot so well. (The dog "announcement barks" all the guests who come into my patio as well as those who come to her door.)

The tree, cut down once, harbinger of hope has survived to grace my life. She reminds me not to give up.

Here is a picture taken outside



Here is a picture of the flowers.



Hawthorn trees abound in Ireland and bloom with red or white flowers. (The red is really dark pink.) While the pictures here show the red flowers, my tree is neatly divided, with one side blooming in each of the two colors. It has been home to many birds and fed many squirrels through its half century and will have pride of place in my yard for as long as I can remain in this house.

Today is the feast of Pentecost. One of the great feasts of the Christian calendar, Pentecost in its turn is integrally tied to the great theological virtue of hope. For after our Lord's ascension the disciples, forlorn, retired to the upper room and pondered how they were to go on. In a sense, they had lost him, this most beloved teacher, leader and friend twice. The first loss was his death on the Cross and they remembered that he said he would come again but it was not until the stone was rolled away from the empty tomb that they realized he really meant it. It was not until they recognized him on the road to Emmaus that they really knew it. Rejoicing that he had returned, they had only a short while before they would lose him again.

So they waited, forlorn, for the Comforter that Jesus promised to send them. Forlorn, but not without hope. Hope never left them and it was fulfilled on Pentecost.

An eminent British psychiatrist, Frank Lake said in his monumental book something like, Hope delayed too long becomes an illness in itself. (I don't have the exact quote.) Depression, even despair are the other side of hope. Last night as I googled for references to Pentecost and Hope, I found this excellent blog, sacradoctrina http://bit.ly/bofkqy in which the author discusses the Thomistic references to hope and Pentecost.

For St. Thomas, hope is eschatological, looking to the future good of the soul's salvation and eternal life in heaven. Hope is not trivial or silly, a goofy smile in all travails, but rather hope is in it for the long haul, recognizing that the road isn't easy but we have to keep walking it. Hope will come along for the journey. The reward will be at the end.

(I think it not unfair, though to comment that along his own journey, like most of us, St. Thomas hoped there would be a good meal and a warm bed and that he was rewarded much of the time.)

Hope, according to sacradoctrina, takes action and that action is communal. I see that it was so for the disciples first in waiting and then in ministry. Perseverance kept hope alive and kept the disciples going. Hope kept the waiting possible and the ministry doable.

Sacradoctrina states it better than I, for it is a longer post. But it is good, I think, to remember this Pentecost Sunday the virtue of hope. That while we live in a depressing era because the very technology that allows us to be "always on" ever ready and to communicate so seamlessly and non-invasively with one another as I am doing right now with this blog post, at the same time we see the ills of all the world before us, not merely those that afflict our little corner.

It is tempting to give up, to shout in anger and then subside into gloom, because not only can we not turn off the oil spilling into the Gulf, but it seems those in charge, who should be able to, can't do it either. Hope requires us to do otherwise and to remember, months from now when the oil flow is turned off, that legislation may still be required to fix how such a thing is handled in the future.

Hope, because it is communal, also requires that we build community face to face as well as online. Church is particularly foundational here, I believe, for it is the community of faith from which our actions spring forth into the larger community around us. It is not enough to meet online, we must meet face to face and break bread together.

I am grateful for my Hawthorn tree, for it's perseverance, for its healing qualities and for leading me to think of hope and not to give up. Grateful too for the feast of Pentecost. even though I cannot go and join in singing, "Lauda Sion salvatorem", I know that it is being sung, and that, too, gives me reason for hope.

The blessings of Pentecost to you. I wish I could send Hawthorn flowers your way or share a cup of Hawthorn tea with you.

(Sorry about the changes that I just made for anyone who might get this twice. I had muddled sacradoctrina and my own reflection, and so want to clarify. Do read that post.)

Murky May

Today is as cold, cloudy and murky as a day in March, even though it is nearly the end of May. Today would also be my parents wedding anniversary, if they were still alive. I remember them with love.

Today I was treated to a delicious lunch by a young friend who is now half way through college at UC Berkeley. She has matured into a young woman and looks so professional. She also sounds so professional. It was a joy to share time with her.

I realized that I haven't blogged recently even though I have taken pictures and planned posts. A combination of excessive arthritis pain and reading too much is part of my excuse.

Reading posts on Facebook is a time-consumer. Still, I learn quite a bit from what my friends post and then go dive into Internet research to learn more. Maybe some of those planned posts will materialize here, after all.

Reading novels is also time-consuming. I have just finished the best-selling tome, Roses. Not sure I can honestly say that I liked it, but I was certainly drawn into it and heartened to see that the author is seventy-one and that it is pretty much her first novel. This gives me hope that I might finish something yet.

Lately, with the monthly gift of a bag full of library books arriving like clockwork, I have been finding myself asking writer's questions about the the books I read. Does a series grow from one book or is it planned to begin with? Maybe it will work out better as a series if it is planned that way from the beginning and I have one manuscript that, with a great deal of revision, might become the first book in a series.

Readers seem to like multi-generational sagas. I am one of them. I have a multi-generational saga to finish. Reading Leila Meacham's story of how she started Roses only to put it away and pull it out again then repeat that cycle until she sat down to finish it, I am heartened. Maybe today will be the beginning of the end of writer's block for me and the start of starting over.

Certainly today is a good one to plan for a nice cup of hot chocolate later to take the chill off of me. It will feel good all the way from the tip of my nose to the tip of my oh so cold toes to warm up.

I am grateful for the day and for the roses blooming outside my office window.

Mountain Rose Herbs Recipe Contest

Mountain Rose Herbs is one of my favorite sources for spices, herbs and oils for my own personal consumption and herbs and essential oils for my business as well. They are having a recipe contest, which requires the contestant to post the recipe entry on the web. (Blogs count.) The recipe will then be linked to their Facebook contest page. Here is mine. It is intended as an entry in the Culinary Recipe Category.

Several months ago I discovered Mountain Rose Herb's Pumpkin Seed Oil. A rich, thick, dark oil it stands up well to the addition of strong spices and garlic. It has ant-inflammatory properties, which was what drew me to it.

For some time I have been cooking with a spice mixture of turmeric, ginger, chipotle powder and celery seed powder. All of these also have anti-inflammatory properties, as does cinnamon, which I have recently included in the mix. Here are the ingredients (not including the cinnamon, but I also have that from Mountain Rose Herbs.)



The recipe for the spice powder mix is equal amounts of the five spices. I could call this Peggy's Five Spice Powder. For a single serving of salad dressing use about 1/8 teaspoon each of the spices or 1/2 teaspoon of the combined spices. (Measure about a tablespoon of each into a small jar that will give you enough room to stir and shake the mixture to combine them well. Then you won't have to open and shut all the bags so frequently, which will save time and help to keep the spices fresh longer.)

For the dressing, measure out the spice mixture as described above, 1 tablespoon pumpkin seed oil, 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar, 1 tablespoon finely grated Parmesan cheese and one or two cloves garlic, slivered or minced as you prefer. The ingredients, in their little prep bowls, are shown below. For the purpose of illustration, I set the ingredients out separately, but it is quicker and more efficient for clean-up to use just one small bowl.



Combine the ingredients in a small bowl, set aside. Assemble your salad using layers of greens, vegetables and fruits of your choice. Arrange the protein for the salad such as tuna, chicken, hard cooked eggs or sliced or shredded cheese on top of the greens and other ingredients. Sprinkle croutons, nuts or pumpkin seeds on top of the protein, if you wish. Drizzle the dressing over the plated salad.

I have used poached eggs for the protein on a chilly day and the warm eggs and rich yolks add to the salad and combine nicely with the dressing.

This dressing is also delicious drizzled over a plate of pasta with protein and veggies mixed in. Yummy.

Anti-inflammatory foods are of particular interest to me since I have post-polio syndrome and arthritis. A salad, as either my lunch or dinner, is a very healthy, low-cal meal. The pasta is an occasional treat because of its higher carbohydrate content.

Simple, nutritious meals that can be prepared easily and are attractive as well as delicious are also of interest, since I navigate my kitchen in a wheel chair. On the days when I do prepare pasta, I forego the large pot of boiling water, for a smaller quantity in a smaller pan. With a bit of stirring as it cooks, the pasta will not stick together. This makes it safe for me to handle by myself and also conserves water.

I am grateful for these lovely ingredients that make cooking for one person less of a chore. My affiliate link to Mountain Rose Herbs is to the right in my links section. Please do explore it for wonderful ingredients for your own healthy cooking.

My contest link to Mountain Rose Herbs Facebook contest page is http://bit.ly/9zCDlg

So My Garden Grows

Amaryllis, left out this year instead of being brought in to be forced in the winter, are blooming now.





The last of the Iris, a beautiful white was blooming against the fence, here


The white iris always makes me think of Victorian ladies at Garden parties trailing their frills and twirling their parasols. Last evening as I went looking for yet more information on the language of flowers, I discovered that the Iris is one of Mary's flowers and it is also the fleur-de-lis, symbol of France. The blue iris in particular symbolize Mary's fidelity.

I have also recently discovered that Hawthorne, a healing herb that is beneficial in its leaves, flowers and berries and is actually a tree, symbolizes hope in the language of flowers. I hope to use some of the dried leaves and flowers from my own Hawthorne tree along with myrtle leaves and berries from bushes that I grew from seed over twenty years ago in wedding potpourri. Probably I will use them in peace potpourri as well.



Years ago, when my family first moved into this house, my father cut down our Hawthorne tree. He was not familiar with what it was and felt that it was planted too close to the house. It is too close to the house, but it grew back in a forest of little shoots. He did not have the heart to kill it out completely and there it stands, this curious tree that grows as though it were split in two with one side flowering pink and the other white. It was only in the last six years or so that my friend who is a master gardener and herbalist identified it for me. It provides life-giving shade in summer's heat and a tonic for me. I have come to love it so!

Finally, the shamrock continues to bloom. Never mind that many would consider them a weed, I consider them a plant promising good luck, because of their association with Ireland and St. Patrick. I always feel blessed when they are blooming.



Gratitude is with me tonight for these joys of my garden. Spring always makes me feel as though a little taste of heaven has come my way, especially when I look out my back windows and see the pink roses blooming along the fence and the poppies now making their color splashes in the planter box.

My apologies to anyone who got the pre-proofread version without the last photo and the corrections that I could not help myself from making. I am more tired tonight than I realized.

The Day After Earth Day

Yesterday marked the 40th anniversary of the first Earth Day and much was said about it in the news. I deliberately watched part of Oprah, something that I don't normally do.

The sight of the Pacific Garbage Gyre was ghastly and disgusting. I have been recycling for years, sometimes grudgingly, I admit, because of the time that it takes to sort everything into separate bags and bins. Sometimes, I am tempted to just pitch it. Lately I have been more careful. The clutter that it makes in the house to have more sorting stations is one my annoyances with recycling. (Not that my house is pristine, in any case.) I think I will learn to live with the annoyance.

I have resisted reusing plastic bags until this year, figuring that it uses water and soap to wash them. I do re-use one bag for dry things over and over until the crumbs get too crumby or there is too much build-up of flour or almond meal or whatever I am putting in its "store" bag into my zippered bag. Switching to cloth bags would not work well, since the contents would not be visible. Switching to hard containers might help but they would be more awkward to handle.

This winter I have saved my plastic bags and now that the weather is warming a bit, I am washing and drying them. Trying to swish the soapy water from one to the next to conserve it is messy, but somehow satisfying. Turning the bag inside out to rinse the interior takes less water--and time--than filling and pouring, especially when I remember to turn the faucet off while I turn. So perhaps it doesn't waste too much water.

I started saving the bags because of the cost. Now I will think of the Garbage Gyres--all five of them, the one I knew about and the other four as I do so. I do think that the problem isn't just re-use and recycle, though. I think it is more fundamental than that.

We need to pick up after ourselves. Dispose of things properly instead of just casting them aside. (I suppose that is recycling, really.) Plastic bottles and bags didn't exist when I was a child. They can be re-used and then recycled to make other things.

That was part of Earth Day coverage too. The things made with plastic bottles. A boat named "Plastiki"; a school in Guatamala. Knitters have used strips of plastic bags for knitting sturdy totes for sometime, although that was not mentioned. I love the fleece fabrics made from recycled plastic bottles. Turning trash into treasure.

We also do need to use less. According to World News last night Americans are consuming less than we did forty years ago. About fifty percent less. But is that because of recycling or merely a result of the recession?

A few years ago, I was pretty cynical about Earth Day, "green solutions" because it seemed as though new companies were simply being started to make the same items that we probably need to use less only out of "green" materials and manufacturing processes.

What if we went back to using thermoses for our coffee and tea? Brought our sandwiches from home in wax paper or re-usable containers, ate in sit down restaurants with re-usable instead of disposable plates and utensils? Turning the clock back to the fifties, I guess, and that is not possible.

While I still refuse to subscribe to the pseudo-religious aspects of recycling, I will grumble less, organize a little more and think of that whale that was beached--dead with plastic items and a golf ball in it's stomach. Not a very good diet for any creature on our small planet.

I am grateful for ways to make my imprint on our planet lighter. Stewardship of the earth is, after all, a way to practice the virtue of humility and any practice of virtue is a good thing.

Blue Iris

Another flower that was truly spectacular in my garden yesterday was a pale blue Iris. These flowers are almost a bouquet in themselves and put on such a show! I have been trying to take the "perfect" Iris photo for about five years now and am nowhere close, but hope to live long enough to persevere some more. I have put a few of my shots on cards and will undoubtedly make some more.

The light yesterday was somewhat flat and dull, as rain clouds gathered. The color of the flowers was more uniform as a result. I would like to try again with bright light to see if the petals are translucent, but that light might just wash out for the camera.

Here are the photos.











The poppies have not "popped" yet and the roses in the backyard are blooming from the top down, but too far away for me to photograph them.

I am grateful for the garden and the camera.

Today's Garden

Today as I opened the front door to put something out for the mailman, I spotted the first big red rose of the year. Up high and so beautiful. It is now on my kitchen counter. It does not seem to have the perfume that earlier roses have had--I think it is telling me to feed it.



It drew me back, camera at the ready and garden scissors tucked into my pocket, as surely as if it were calling to me. I took the first photo to document it in place. The second is close-up indoors.



Finally, a close-up on the kitchen counter.



Next I noticed the purple shamrock--oxalis.



Another



and finally



The purple leaves amaze and delight me, since I grew up thinking that leaves should be green.

Last, just because it is so happy there is the "regular" shamrock--green leaves with white flowers.



For a plant that came home from the grocery store several years ago, it's not doing too badly. An amaryllis that was about to flower probably won't, since it has been seriously chewed.

Still, I am grateful for things that are blooming and for the chance to poke my nose out into fresh air and some sunshine before the gathering clouds bring rain tomorrow and keep me indoors. Happy Spring!

Biggest Strawberries Ever

Friday, my friend who joins me for lunch on Fridays, brought these giant berries. We meant to weight them as well as take their pictures, but got caught up in conversation.




Each of them was equal to four or five ordinary berries. What was truly amazing was that they were delicious and juicy.

Today was a day of true rain, not drizzles but downpours. Perhaps the drought really is truly over.

I am grateful for these remarkable berries and for the rain. Most especially grateful for my friend who shares lunch with me weekly. We have known each other since we were in our twenties--longer now than we have not known each other and he is truly my brother in spirit. Grateful tonight for life.

Easter Roses

As the first week of Easter progresses, I am celebrating with roses roses brought by a friend. My own rose bushes have buds, so I know there will be flowers soon. (High up on the backyard bush the first roses are blooming.)









There is a sweet, faint odor of roses in the dining room that proclaims Spring is here! I have truly the worst case of cabin fever/spring fever that I have had in years. (I almost typed Spring fervor, and I think that would be a fortuitous typo. It has been cold, dank and dreary for too long--even though we did need the rain.)

I am grateful for Spring and for roses.