Elizabeth had this great idea. We recently received notice from the city that our yard needed mowing. We often get one of these around Tulip time. But this year, it came a bit later than that time (Tulip Time was canceled due to the Covid 19 pandemic). Elizabeth met the person when she stopped to leave her notice. Elizabeth said the person was very nice about it, almost apologetic.
It seems to be a different person each time. In the past, I have thought of it as educating these people about indigenous gardens. So far, they have always stopped short of making Eileen get rid of her raggedy (wonderful) collection of indigenous plants.
Elizabeth mowed the lawn, by the way.
Then she decided to put up signs. I think she also is registering us as an official butterfly sanctuary or garden. That’s still in process. But she did get the sign above and proceeded to label plants in the front yard. Cool.
Purple Cone Flower
Black Eyed Susan
Tomorrow is Eileen’s and my 45th wedding anniversary. We decided to order some flowers. I like to surprise her with flowers, but surprises are harder with Covid 19 restrictions. She doesn’t mind not being surprised at all. We decided together to order daisies and roses. The daisies are because that was the flowers we had at our wedding. The roses are just cool.
So they should be delivered sometime to day.
My connection with my therapist didn’t work as well the second time. For some reason, our images and sounds were sputtering. We did most of it over the phone. I have been in an odd mental place. Racism is something I think a lot about, so the recent police riots have been very troubling to me. But, I didn’t have that much to talk to Dr. Birky about yesterday.
Despite that and the fact that we were on the phone, I noticed that my mood lifted a bit afterward. There is value in being listened to, I guess.
This came across my Twitter feed with the fact that before the 70s we did Phase I testing on prisoners, now we do it on poor people. I haven’t read it yet but plan to look it over. I do like the New York Review of Books.
Poem for today.
Bob Dylan interviews are a guilty pleasure at this point.
This is the original article written the week of Trump’s election. I guess it’s the basis for her new book.