We got the three raised beds placed in the yard, all sealed with raw linseed oil and filled with a mix of top soil and mushroom soil. Not sure if mixing the two soils is a bad idea, don’t see why it would be, but we’ll see what happens. You can also use your own composted soil, if you have it.

I removed the top couple inches of soil underneath each bed and roughed it up, but didn’t lay down any corrugated or cardboard or newspaper before adding the soil mix– mainly because we had just taken everything to recycling. Hope this doesn’t come back to haunt us.

I divvied up one of those big rectangular containers of peat moss between the three, and also a smaller bag of vermiculite. The recipe I saw online was 1/3-1/3-1/3 soil, peat moss, and vermiculite (or Perlite), well mixed. I think we went a bit heavy on the soil, so I’ll probably get a bit more peat moss and another bag of vermiculite and add those in today.

Anyway, they’ll soon be ready to use for veggies, herbs, maybe a bit of more decorative flora. Just have to keep wandering cats out of ‘em, along with the rabbits, who seem to like young string bean seedlings, among other things.

Looking forward to some fresh, homegrown produce.

Update: our raised bed soil mix is a real potpouri now. I’ve since added a bag of composted soil, another bag of vermiculite, a bag of perlite, three bags of humus and manure, and a bag of pine bark nuggets. Not sure anymore what kind of growing medium we’ll have, or if the whole mixture will eventually ignite or harden like cement. Will keep you posted.

One difference between a civil case and a criminal case is consequences. The recent Carroll v Trump case highlights not only the obvious fact that the alleged offenses happened a long time ago, but more significantly that Donald Trump’s name pops up yet again as the defendant.

The verdict in this civil case appears to have been met with acceptance by Ms. Carroll (what’s not to like about a certain vindication and a $5 million settlement?). But again—more significantly—Donald Trump was found guilty of defamation and sexual abuse, and, one might reasonably assume, has suffered yet another blow to his already ridiculously tarnished reputation. Yet another reason to question his fitness, his character, his motivations, and to wonder how on earth he can still be considered a candidate for President of the United States.

His lowbrow nature is practically skywritten for all to see, and the fact that this was a civil case and not a criminal case shouldn’t matter in the least. Regardless of how good or unsavory his lawyers are, and how often we are implored to ignore the elephant in the room, his guilt is pretty much a given. Because that’s the kind of guy he is.

He has groomed us for low expectations.

“Senate Republicans Suggest Carroll Verdict Could Imperil Trump’s 2024 Chances.”

YOU THINK?

Wow, there’s a headline that comes out of left field. Wasn’t expecting that. You know– because Trump is such an upstanding guy and all.

What the hell is it going to take for people to come around? In what sane universe does a pretender like Trump—with the seemingly endless list of accusations and pending lawsuits and demeanor of a long-entitled, immature, perpetually angry and vindictive middle schooler—belong in any conversation about running for any office, least of all POTUS for a third time?

What kind of spell is he still capable of casting? There shouldn’t be anyone left in his camp, and yet he’s still standing.

How is this possible?

“…all gone to look for America…”

Good luck, because the America most would prefer you find doesn’t actually exist. The America you’ll find is a mess– scattered in vision and purpose, hyper-partisan, distracted, awash in division, hate ratcheted all the way up, ignorance spewed in the name of holding onto power. And selfish at its core, because selfishness is built into the fabric of who we are as purveyors of capitalism and pursuers of that cursed American Dream.

America seems to have lost its mind, and maybe its heart– if it’s ever had a heart. Many of its leaders aren’t leaders—they’re just the shameless ones who can deliver a line, who know what buttons to push and which asses to kiss.

Make America Great Again? Cheapest, most damnable slogan ever. An earworm for those who tend to speak before they think.

It has to be the fairy tale vibe. I can’t think of another reason why anyone would be interested in the coronation of royalty. The jewel-encrusted crowns, the ridiculous robes, the pomp and circumstance, the crowd chanting “long live the king.”

Looming questions like “Why is this still a thing?”

At least it’s not breaking news about another mass shooting in America, which appears to be pretty much all that happens here in the states.

Heading back to PA after nearly two weeks in MA. The focus was supporting one another in the midst of Mom’s journey from hospital to hospice. The desired outcome, the hoped for progress, didn’t materialize. I think we all sensed the trends weren’t giving us any reason for optimism.

Mom had worked through a lot since the end of January, but the accumulated toll on a 9-decade old body ended up prevailing.

I’m looking forward to going back to PA, even though MA will always be home to me. I lived here long enough for it to seep into my bones, for better or worse. Allegiances and memories, a strong attachment to place, and all that.

Well, the weather is warming, the subdued greyness and chill of this past week have given way to sunshine. I suppose there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.

1000

We got to talking about human encroachment as we of Swedish and French descent sat around the dining room table enjoying our humble attempt at observing Cinco de Mayo.

Anyway, as we sat enjoying our soft shell tacos and Coronas with lime and a couple shots of really nice tequila, three does came into view and just lingered at the edge of the back yard. It briefly turned the conversation to an acknowledgement of the reality that even in this rather thickly settled, well established neighborhood, there are all sorts of animals sharing what remains of the woods and open space around us. And sometimes they come pretty close.

Deer, bear, coyotes, turkeys, woodcocks, even a fisher have been seen in yards and workplaces. The animals have found a way, and we are reminded of that with some regularity.

Mom died yesterday morning. And now a mix of feelings, but more relief than sadness at this point. She was suffering and fighting, and she doesn’t have to do that anymore. Whether or not God has taken her home, or she’s now with Dad, it is a weight lifted knowing that there is no more struggle for her.

The brief service at the entrance of the hospice center was perfect, enough for me, at least, to observe a transition, and to release us to a period of rest and then preparation for the gathering of family and friends who will want to pay their respects a little over a month from now, when we gather to remember and celebrate a life of consequence and considerable brightness.

I’ve never understood the snark and seeming dislike for Gordon Lightfoot. He was a trained musician who wrote memorable, melodic songs, and told great stories! Maybe it was because his music seemed to be everywhere for a while and people just got tired of him?

I don’t get the snide commentary and ridicule. It seems unfair and unwarranted. Though I guess musical tastes are like that.

R.I.P., Mr. Lightfoot.

Popstart. There’s actually a segment on one of the network morning shows that goes by this title. A breathlessly narrated segment that takes up 10 minutes or more of airtime, dedicated to all things Hollywood and music and whatever else can be squeezed into the category of Entertainment. It seems that the fluff and pomposity and ego feeding is just a thread in the fabric of who we are, and I couldn’t be any less excited about or proud of any of it.

In a related rant, Charles will be crowned king on Saturday. Yes, viewers will swoon over the royal spectacle and the tradition and the Who’s Who of guests invited to a centuries old rite that has no real meaning or significance any longer, other than, as one person observes, a tourist attraction.