I will not be growing keylimes and using them to make a pie ever again. Mrs Edwards and Mrs Smith can have that job!
The over-achiever Flower has been reined in…finally.
A Pie story for Pi Day
Author: Flower Roberts
Grateful for the Good
Extreme stress is not conducive to creativity.
I cannot change reality right now,
but I can focus on the good.
I am and will continue to poison myself with the daily events of horror. I refuse to totally look away from this chaos and suffering caused by greed and evil.
But, I also purposefully find the fighters for right. These are good people who have had their warrior switch turned on by an event they could not tolerate.
These are the good that I am grateful for. The people that chose to stand their ground and do whatever it takes to protect what is of value.
Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine inspires me by staying with his people and not wearing a suit.
AOC and Bernie Sanders who stand shoulder to shoulder with the real people with jobs and dreams.
Melanie Stansbury who refuses to defuse her fury at the monstrous atrocities that occurred to young females in her state on an exclusive, isolated ranch.
Jasmine Crockett who goes off like a rocket when entitled liars speak.
Chef Jose Andres who has taken on the hunger of the displaced all over the planet with World Central Kitchen.
The Walk for Peace Monks and Aloka walking through snow to reach our chaotic capital. I will keep that image of their robes against the snow forever.
Jessica Knurick who stands up against the bull shit spread about health by ignorant folks who are not qualified to write a prescription nor shop for healthy food.
My hero, Heather Cox Richardson. The historian who is documenting the daily shenanigans of inept people in power. She calms me down like no one else.
My new favorite duo, Jeff Newton and Rye Howard Stone, who are teaming up to lay bare the Epstein files using an AI assistant named Claude. Jeff is formerly from 60 Minutes. Rye just finished his PhD and is taking this on as he waits for the right job to appear. These two are on Substack. Watch them work. Simply amazing!
I will stop here. I could add many more groups who have been formed to right the wrongs.
These are the names I whisper into the darkness as I try to relax and sleep.
I am truly grateful for the good they are doing.
FLOW
Wetlands are Important
Wetlands are important habitats that tend to disappear as humans move into an area. Natural wetlands actually help the surrounding area by slowing runoff and filtering water. I am glad Boone created this beautiful site for walkers to observe.
Wetlands includes many plants that serve as food and shelter for wildlife in the area.
Boone has created a wetlands habitat along its walking trails so that the plants and animal inhabitants can be viewed up close.
I was thrilled to hear and see a pair of redwing blackbirds when I visited the area last week.
This is a great way to encourage wildlife to live in the area and control water runoff and possible flooding. These signs help visitors identify the inhabitants in the area.
I look forward to watching this area change throughout the spring summer and fall. Stay tuned.
FLOW
ALL on ONE Wall
I needed to go to a place that grounds me. These are shaky times and I needed some mental mooring. I went to where I always go when I need peace.
Tuesday morning, I was shaken by the unthinkable. War.
I went to Evergreen Island to clear my head. By some strange miracle, I was the only person there. This has never happened before. I guess folks were at the polls or watching the war unfold.
I do not take my safe life for granted. I am disturbed by the unrest everywhere. Humans baffle me. Nature makes more sense. I brought my camera with me especially to photograph this stone wall.
I have studied this wall for years. It brings me peace to see a mix of species living together in harmony.
There is moss, ferns and lichen living on these old stones. There are forms of algae, fungi and bacteria that cannot be seen. I also see signs of animals living inside the wall.
These living things coexist and share nutrients, space and moisture.
This symbiosis between species has taken thousands of years of adjustments to attain balance.
I wonder how long it will take humans to learn to live together?
FLOW
More Green on the Queen
My plants that got moved to the mountain have been in a slump. I have been puzzled by their lack of progress. I water and feed them consistantly, but no new growth had shown up for months… until lately.
Three weeks ago the Night Blooming Cereus started sending up some little flat blades. Sprouts started sprouting!
The Queen of the Night started putting out new leaves and stems. I was happy to see anything new. This plant has doubled in size! The lovely baby leaves are soft, bright green and shiny.
Then the leaves elongated and put out leaflets.
Even my new starts sent up shoots. What inspired this development?
I know the days are getting longer. I choose believe this is my first sign of spring coming.
The Cereus seems to suddenly be serious about growing. Let’s hope they get this excited about blooming.
FLOW
Pacing on the Porch
I am not one to stay inside. The weather on the mountain has been a bit harsh lately. When the ground is slick with snow and ice I have to stay on the porch with my new hips. The decking out there still has streaks from my pacing with my walker during my months of convalescing.
When the storms come from the north, I can pace out on the porch and not get wet. Weather from the west is a different story. The wind blasts across that porch like a freight train. If you get near the railing at the western end you feel like you could almost be lifted off your feet.
During some of the snowstorms this winter, I actually sat on the porch in my coat and watched in silent wonder. That did not happen during this last winter blast that rattled the screens and made me thankful for the brick walls. My neighbors lose siding during these hell benders. They call me ‘ The Third Little Pig.’
This morning the weather has finally settled and I felt the need to go out. The porch in front of the door and to the east was still covered in snow. No problem. I now have a racy red Valentine shovel delivered to me by Mr. Flower. Don’t judge ladies. He also brought flowers and chocolate. LADIES, he has had forty years of training, so curb your envy.
MEN just because you covet every tool does not mean your sweetie wants a vacuum cleaner for Mother’s Day. Yes, you got away with that with your adoring mama, but do not try to pull that two-for gift crap on your wife. If she needs a vacuum cleaner let her pick it out. What do you know about it? She’s not surprising you with a weed-eater.
I digress.
This morning hauled my Valentine shovel out to that porch and cut me a walking path heading west.
Now I can pace on half the porch when the ceiling gets on my nerves. I am grateful for this gift. My other snow shovel was a bent wimp. The flowers will fade and the chocolates will be eaten, but my love shovel will endure!
FLOW
Letting the Ashes Go
I went to the place that my Daddy wanted his ashes spread yesterday. I took my lunch there and ate in my car. I got out and took some photos. It is peaceful, private and conveniently located near their house. Daddy was always thoughtful like that.
The plan was for the whole family to gather at this location. We were instructed to play his favorite hymn sung by his favorite soprano. Mama negotiated the length of her speech, three minutes max per Daddy. Then we were to take turns silently sprinkling his ashes. I found a blue heart dish with three circles just for this part.
This ceremony has not occurred yet. It has been hard to get all of us on the mountain at once. When we finally all got there, the weather was bad. I had nightmares of Daddy trying to sleep in snow. So we postponed the event until spring. Then Mama died. There went three minutes of the ceremony.
Now we have two urns full of ashes. Daddy’s is bluebird blue and Mama’s is pink, of course. Mama claimed she wanted to be sprinkled with her sister’s ashes at a different, less convenient, location. Did she mean this, or was it the dementia talking?
My daughter, Rose, gave me a pep talk about letting the ashes go last night. They wanted to be set free and sprinkled in nature she said. I know they liked this idea. I do too, on beautiful, sunny days.
For now, I will sit quietly with the blue and pink urns while I remember my parents. I am not ready to let the ashes go.
What will we do with the urns then? Store them to wait for the next dearly departed. That’s as creepy as keeping a coffin at the ready in your garage. Yes, we know someone who got a good deal on one!
I do not know when I will be ready to let the ashes go. I will continue to visit the spot to acclimate myself. My sister will have to make the call on Mama’s sprinkle site. She haunts me enough already. I don’t need anymore guilt with her name on it.
FLOW
The Hybrid Ice Bird
I missed Winterfest here because of a snowstorm. By the time the ice on my road had melted enough for me to get downtown, only the giant demo ice sculpture in the park’s gazebo was left. I saw it shining in the sun as I got out of my car.
The gorgeous upper wing looked like glass. The big bird was surrounded by water from its melting. I stood with a young mother admiring what was left when she asked, “What kind of bird is that?”
The details of the wing made it look strong with long feathers like an eagle in flight, but the beak was thin and pointed. The head looked more like that of a dove. The beak was not the hooked, flesh-tearing shape of a raptor.
So after days of melting in the warmth of the afternoon sun, this bird had its details softened. The wings still looked big and strong like an eagle’s, but the beak looked thin like the dove of peace without the olive branch.
This hybrid ice bird made me ponder America at this point. Can we be both strong like our national bird the bald eagle and still be a symbol for peace like a dove?
What will it take for this country to morph into something both strong and peaceful? I hope we figure that out.
FLOWER
The link below is from the town’s facebook page so you can see other sculptures including a smaller version of the bird in question.
Those Crows
I live among a group of crows.
Where they roost I do not know.
I see them fly in the strongest wind.
They walk in snow for food to fend.
Crows come in numbers to my yard.
They dig in snow when times are hard.
I see them here and there all day.
They seem to never go away.
Until the sun sinks in the sky,
then somewhere else they all do fly.
They will return when the sun does, too.
When day is here, the night is through.
Those crows are brave. Those crows are smart.
Those crows could not survive apart.
They stick together for food and place.
They share their booty and their space.
Why can’t we humans learn to know
the lessons from our American crow?
FLOW
Here is a wonderful children’s book about crows. I love the title.
floweralley 