The Sunday Five: Plants

1: Did you have a garden when you were growing up? 

2: Are you able to keep houseplants alive? 

3: What is a favorite thing you have grown? 

4: Have you ever planted a tree? 

5: What are you currently growing? 

My answers: 

1: Did you have a garden when you were growing up?  Yes, I remember one spring, saying I was going to stay home that summer and weed my garden, a classmate responded that he was going to stay home and garden his weed. My grandmother around the corner on the farm had a spectacular garden. 

2: Are you able to keep houseplants alive? Not really. The cactus died from neglect. 

3: What is a favorite thing you have grown? Roses, at the last house in Florida. 

4: Have you ever planted a tree? Yes, and driven by 35 years later to see them standing tall. 

5: What are you currently growing? Content with life, no plants in the high rise with the northern exposure.

Please share your answers in the comments.  

The Saturday Morning Post: Allow Yourself to Get Bored, To Get Creative

I remember being bored as a kid growing up, the farm was isolated, and time often dragged on. Over the years I have done some very boring work, traveled for long distances alone, spent a few weeks in the hospital unable to get out and about without help. Boredom does interesting things to our brains, it triggers thoughts, ideas, ways of entertaining our minds. It helps us find the connections between ideas that are seemingly unrelated. That was one of my strengths when I was working, I spent long days contemplating questions, problems, challenges in my brain, then it would hit me, how we could see the issue in new ways, how we could find a new way through the debris field of failed ideas.  

We need that bored time. I have read a couple of article this year, about the need for quiet time, time to allow ourselves to become bored. We tend to fill every waking moment with something.  A few months ago, I was overseeing the removal of art works in the community center, I had asked people to pick up their works by 10:00 AM, it was just after 9:30 and there were a few left to be picked up, before we moved the back-up plan of moving them to storage. I could have sat there, and doom scrolled on my phone, I decided I would go spend 30 minutes on the treadmill. 

Usually when I am on the treadmill, I watch streaming video on my IPad, but this was an unplanned block of time, and I didn't have my IPad with me. I decided this was a great opportunity to let myself be bored, for just 30 minutes, I would walk on the treadmill in silence, with just the birds outside the window for diversion. Before I knew it, I as seeing things I didn't know were there, flower buds on a tree, young birds. I started thinking about how the colors were changing on the hillside outside that window.  I found myself being creative in ways that I would not have been, if I was watching my favorite YouTube channel about sketching. Both are good for me, both are needed, but the boredom time is in short supply. I need to drop out, turn off the noise more.  

Funky Fridays: Cabinet of Curiosities

I am visiting the closest descendants that I have, my nephews and the two sons of one of them. In thinking about the trip, I thought about some of the family mementos that I have, what to do with them when I am dead. Will the boys be interested in items that were owned by great-great-great grandparents who were dead long before they were born? 

My cabinet of curiosities, has momentos from my life. A Leprechaun pencil sharpener that was a gift from Uncle Dick's mother when she returned from a trip to Ireland.  I have had it since I was about 5 years old. A silver music box that belonged to my great-grandmother - she died the year I finished high school.  A couple of photos from my parents, a photo on metal of my father that was taken when he was a teenager at the Michigan State Fair, the photo of the last airplane he owned that he carried in his wallet for 50 years. Probably a 100 little things collected from my travels, tacky Eiffel Towers, norse gods from Iceland, and a growing collection of tiny ceramic bowls. My father's pilot log books. Each one of these had meaning to me, but will they have meaning to anyone else. 

There are times when I wish someone had saved for me items that connect me to great grandparents and great-great-great grandparents all but one of whom died before I was born. Some tangible connection to the past, and the stories about those people, who they were, how the lived and died connected to those objects. The items are nice, the stories that come with them are even better. I have an enameled pendant watch, that my Great-Grandfather bought for my Great-Grandmother 114 years ago, when he returned from a job in Mexico. For my nephew's sons, they would be a great-great-great-great grandparents. I have their marriage licence, and birth certificates from there to complete the chain of relationships. I need to start making a plan, and moving these things on, or they will be just more stuff tossed in the dumpster someday. 

What is in the cabinet above, a long dead Pope who was recognized as a Saint - which one?

Thursday Ramble: Flawed Politicians

George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, were visionary - but flawed men. They wrote and signed their names to "All Men Are Created Equal," while no women were involved, and many of the men were slave owners. History tells us that many of them struggled with this, but economics and politics brought compromise that left many people without any rights, and others as property to be bought and sold.  

George Washington's will freed many of his slaves upon the death of his wife Martha. She wrote to a friend that she feared that some of the slaves knew this fact, and might try to hasten their freedom. She granted most of them freedom before her death (most of whom then stayed on as underpaid sharecroppers.) 

Thomas Jefferson had a long running relationship and children with one of his slaves. He was in debt, and could not free his slaves as his creditors had a lien on everything that he owned, including the human being that that was the mother of his children. 

Franklin Roosevelt spent the time before he died with his mistress, not his wife. 

When we think of the flaws of today's political leaders, we should look at the past. Look at the flaws of those before.  And know that We The People have been down this road before, and We have found our way. And if we focus on what we have in common, not on what divides us, we will stand together into the future. The authority of the governed is granted by the people, not be hereditary, or god given authority. 

My World of Wonders: July 8, 2026

Where have I been this week? The outlet mall at National Harbor to buy a pair of slip on walking shoes. The grocery store and Trader Joe's. The Farmers Market. The treadmill, both the indoor and outdoor pools. The Grill for first Friday with our LGBTQ+ neighbors. The library, the swamp for a nice walk, the supermarket, the pool. 

Where am I going? Indiana to visit my sister and my nephews. A solo trip. 

Who have a talked to this week? Mathew, Ana, Susan, Raf, Marcell, David, Erik, my Sweet Bear, 

What have I been up to in the kitchen? Gazpacho,  potato salad, coleslaw, cheeseburgers, hot-dogs, roast beef, roast potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, salads, 

What did I finish reading? Human-ish, a book about anthropomorphism. It was very good.  An interesting fact, more people in the USA die in hurricanes with female names, than hurricanes with male names. Why? Because they assume a storm with a female name can't be that bad and don't prepare or evacuate in the same way they do for a storm with a male name. Gender stereotypes carry over to storms. 

What am I working on? An article for a conference in October I am speaking at on the issues of health care decision making. 

What is on the easel? An 11 by 14 inch blank. I should do something with that. 

Travel Tuesday: Vienna

For Vienna I have to start with the hotel, MAXX by Steigenberger. Most hotel rooms in Europe are small, many are tiny with barely enough room to move about. This room was large, very large and very comfortable. It is three or four stops on the underground train out from the city center, and a five minute walk from the U-bahn station.    

 

Monday Moods: Memories

I was out at Mt Vernon for a long walk recently, and this split rail fence reminded me of the place my family lived when I was growing up. The farm, about 60 miles north of Detroit was an old homestead. Before my grandfather bought it had been in the same family since the area was settled and logged out. Around the edges of the field, the edges of the farm, there were remnants of split rail fences. The original concept of a split rail fence was split trees, stacked in a zig-zag pattern. The fences could be built or repaired with few tools, an axe, a wedge and heavy hammer to split the rails, then just stack them. There were no fasceners involved, just gravity to hold them together. They could be moved as the needs of the famer changed. They would contain most livestock. As a kid we would find small sections of these fences around the farm and neighboring farms. 

There were also remnants of stump fences. The area had been old growth forest when it was divided up, the trees were cut and sent off to build cities, ships, and provide fuel for heat; leaving behind the stumps, many of them massive. The tree stumps, with a large dense tangle of roots, would be cut loose and dragged out by teams of horses, mules or oxen, and stood on edge to make a dense fence. This was labor intensive, but the end product was a very effective fence for keeping in livestock, and lasted for a century or more. 

I was nearly the last generation to see these remnants of the past, changes in farming have eliminated nearly all of the fence rows, farm fields now run right up to the side of the road, 60 years ago there was a 20-30 foot border of trees and weeds, and fence remnants between the road and the start of the planting.  

At the time the farm was home. For a few years after I moved away, I kind of thought of it as home. But I no longer do. It is where I spent my childhood. I have no real connection to the place. I have no family there. It is a lifetime ago. In the fresh light that distance and time provide, I can see the flaws and difficulties of the place. I am glad I left.  And yet, I am glad I saw things that few people have seen outside of photos, paintings, and historical recreations.