glorious, gorgeous, birds, cats, packages

It is unspeakably beautiful here in Tucson… oddly, though, not hot.

Desert Willow flowers

Above, a blooming Desert Willow tree on my south wall, a gift from Trees For Tucson. If you promise to plant them to shade your house from the direct summer sunlight, Tucson will give you up to four native, drought-tolerant trees to plant. It’s one of my favorite sorts of urban programs. 

Despite several forays into the 90s (each of which I have been away for) the pool is still quite cold and the high today will only be in the 80s. Normally we are rocking the 100s by now. Inexplicable. I wonder what the monsoon season will bring this year. I don’t think there is any such thing as “normal” weather anymore, thanks to homo stupidus and our rather stunning disregard for natural balance. Of course I know that what’s done is done, but I would expect that our species would begin trying to mitigate some of our damage, rather than bullishly continuing on increasing it. What a shame to blow such a beautiful opportunity on a beautiful planet.

Anyway, I’m not poisoning my yard, sometimes I feel that’s all I can do. I look at the fracking, the pipelines, the deepwater drilling…the general mistreatment and disrespect of Terra that goes on every day, and I just shake my head.


I don’t bake my sunflower seeds to stop them from sprouting in my garden. Who wouldn’t want sunflowers, violets, or dandelions? All edible, all beautiful, none poisonous, and all of them are as hardy as, well, weeds. People could have violet-lawns. No mowing!

Anyway, re fracking, etc.- as Bill Clinton will tell anyone who will listen (nicely backed up with really good data) treating people and the planet right is actually more profitable in the long term for business and society than screwing everything in sight for a quick buck. If we addressed those quick turns, you know, a lot of fuckery would be foiled. Whether it’s Wall Street or oil futures or burning off the natural gas in the Dakotas to get at the oil more quickly (an example of criminally insane stupidity going on right now, you can watch it live if you like) or Bain Capital’s cycle of turn/burn (also available for real-time viewing, go to any Guitar Center, latest victim) making it less rewarding to make a quick buck than a long one would go a long way. That was the point of things like longer waiting periods for capital gains exclusions, etc. If you have to keep what you bought for two or more years before you can sell it at a profit, you have to actually give a shit about the situation.

Of course, not even that sort of thing can stop Bain, because they are like those water bugs that suck frogs from the inside; they just take out a lot of loans, load the company with debt, and take off with the cash. To fix Bain, we have to fix banking, and there is about a zero chance that the US is going to do that.

Luckily, I am just one person, and I can’t (nor does anyone expect me to) fix the US banking situation. (Although I suspect that I actually could.)

Instead, all I have to do is care for a small coterie of loved ones.


Miss Fish and the birds are very happy to see me. I Katepomorphize this to mean that they love me. Why not?

Fishlove 2

If Miss Fish will let us, Simon and I will get back to packing up boxes of books. I’m excited to say that orders are literally flooding in for CGB, both volumes. I might only be a week away from actually being able to draw my minimum wage salary again!  Bill and I heard Sixteen Tons on the radio the other day and both cracked up at once, thinking of me, like an ant, making this project, which is huge.

Simon love

9 thoughts on “glorious, gorgeous, birds, cats, packages

  1. Kate, I can’t recall having ever left a comment on anyone’s post (mainly because I don’t follow many) but I just want to say that I so enjoy reading yours every day. They never fail to make me think, smile, or laugh out loud – sometimes all three – and I thank you for that.

  2. I used to have a cat like Miss Fish, many,many, moons ago. Her name was “Rutabaga”. She was named for the Zappa song, “Call any vegetable”. I can’t have cats now because of my sons allergies so I love seeing the photos of your cats.

    • Well…. I don’t deny that. But if I all of a sudden became 4 inches tall, but was still me, I suspect the cat would kill me for sport. I do believe in their consciousness, their feelings, and their ability to love, but the also fact is that they are absolutely without concern or mercy if things are prey-sized. So I think they love me, sure, but is that dependent on me being bigger than they are?

  3. While in theory I love the idea of an all-violet lawn, the reality is that it wouldn’t feel very nice under my bare feet. (And I love to be barefoot.) But I don’t treat my lawn in any way, so I do have violets. And wild phlox behind my garage. And starflower (that my lawn dude so kindly mowed around, instead of over, this week). And mulberry trees and a crabapple tree and honeysuckle, and even some of those tiny, tasteless wild strawberries. None of which I planted, and all of which grow just gloriously on their own. I live in a small town, so I’m not permitted to just let it a grow into a meadow, which is too bad….I think that would be really cool.

    • I love small neat patches of grass for walking on, and of course big parks full of grass. But frankly, I don’t see many people in St. Louis walking around on their front lawns, except to mow them. Back yards, I assume are different and people actually go out in them. I’m not sure how, because it’s either ass-cold, ass-hot and sticky, or there are mosquitoes. But on those 24 or so genuinely beautiful outdoor days, I visualize them all playing in their nice backyard lawns.

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