Good Morning, Sunshine!

Dear Callie: I love my truck. Thank you. It makes noises that sound especially nice first thing in the A.M.

So....you got any plans for this weekend? 'Cuz I'm free. You know, in case you're interested.

Call me. But not right now, because I need a nap.

Garden News

Lots and lots going on in the garden. First, the new apricot tree is growing like mad:


Marigolds and oregano, with a nice drip irrigation frame:


More marigolds:


Sugar snap peas getting ready to climb the bamboo pyramids:


The blueberries are leafing out nicely:


Mmm....swish [EDIT: Swiss] chard:


Along one side of the bed, purple sage, thyme, marigolds, borage and parsley in the foreground, and lilies comin up in the upper right:

More of that parsley:


The dahlias are finally coming up:


Lettuce! and Mr. Rabbit-Pants has failed to figure out the presence of this bucket, or else doesn't care. I dunno. Either way, I got lots of lettuce.


Basil and petunias:


I planted two IKEA pots with the petunias, basils, and that other flower. There was one little orphan petunia left, who got popped into a little terra cotta pot:


Figgie, figgie, figgie fig:


Limes, growing on the tree. Given the number of blossoms, I suspect we might have a banner year on the lime tree:


Today's Farmer's Market find! A lemon verbena to replace the one I lost this winter:


It's still raining, so no actual gardening today. I'm just waiting for sunshine and dry air so I can do a bit more planting and digging and whatnot.

Party Animals

Imagine my life. It's 8 o'clock on a Saturday night. Darkness falls. Dressed to kill, I prepare for my evening's activity:

LAUNDRY.

That's right. In addition to selflessly consuming chocolate pudding, I give all I've got to the party scene. My social life can only adequately be described using words like "fantastic" and "awe-inspiring."

But for some people, laundry is not enough for a Saturday night in May. No, some people need more.

Like Iain, for instance. He required that his high-chair be moved into the den so he could watch a little TV.

"Dad? Dad? Dad? I thought this race was supposed to start at 6, Dad. Dad? Dad?"

"Oh, Hummus? I don't mind if I do."

And, after 45 seconds of great drama, "Wow. That horse came up fast. And that jockey's kinda...interesting."

[please note awesome new bib.]

[Gotta go, more laundry to do.]

Is privacy dead?

Fordham law professor Joel Reidenberg assigned a project to his class to emphasize how much information about us is publicly available. The assignment? To create a dossier on Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia. Justice Scalia is reported to have made comments that questions the need for protection of private information. The 15-page dossier the class assembled included Scalia's home address, phone number, food and movie preferences, his wife's personal email address and other tidbits. Scalia responded with, "Professor Reidenberg's exercise is an example of perfectly legal, abominably poor judgment. Since he was not teaching a course in judgment, I presume he felt no responsibility to display any." More here from the ABA Journal article.

Personally, I find it satisfying when advocates for a position hoist the opposition on their own petard. Especially when, as it is reported here, that there is no real abuse. The professor made the point quite well, writing, "When there are so few privacy protections for secondary use of personal information, that information can be used in many troubling ways. A class assignment that illustrates this point is not one of them. Indeed, the very fact that Justice Scalia found it objectionable and felt compelled to comment underscores the value and legitimacy of the exercise."

I think our society will be engaged in a debate about privacy - and the growing lack thereof - for the foreseeable future. To my mind, privacy has been an illusion for a long time. The real difference is that it is increasingly easy to find out all sorts of information, very quickly, and for little money. In recent decades, the same information was available, it was simply more difficult and, often, more costly to find it.

This is a difference that may matter, though. There is a difference between knowing that someone can walk down the street and photograph your house and yard, and seeing that Google has done so and has published the result for anyone in the world to see. The view of your house has never been private, but publishing the photograph feels different.

Dear Stonewall Kitchen

We have a little problem. Here it is: your Wild Maine Blueberry Jam is too tasty. As you can see above, we're halfway through another jar. Another one. It's all because of this guy:

As you can see, he likes his toast to be toasted, buttered, cut into sticks, iced with said jam, then cut into squares so he can stuff his face and then wipe jam on the highchair, his outfit, the dining room table, his face, his arms, his legs, Mommy, and any other entity that comes within reach.

It makes him happy. Not only does he smile (as you see above), he kicks and bounces and makes goo-goo ga-ga noises. He likes it.


So.....I'm going to need you to either lower the price on your jam or make it slightly less yummy. Because it's going to bankrupt us and probably deplete the Maine blueberry supply.

Parental Sacrifice

Parenting is only for the strong. There's no room for weaklings, those who can't or won't sacrifice their own well-being, time and strength for the cause. Your child, your family, your home requires you to give everything.

For example: we've established that Iain, in defiance of all that is holy, dislikes chocolate pudding. So I have...ahem...had four servings of home-made chocolate mousse sitting in my fridge. They needed to be eaten. But on whom would fall this terrible burden? Whose devotion to duty would force (her) to consume all that pudding?

It could only be me. Because when you're the Mom, sometimes you have to take a hit for the team.

Let this be a lesson to all those considering becoming a parent. If you stand in the doorway of your refrigerator and think, "I couldn't possibly eat all that delicious chocolatey pudding" you are not cut out for this job. Did you think it would all be birthday parties and blissful naptimes? No, young one. No.

Messing with Dad's Head

Maddie likes to tease her dad. It's cruel, but fun.

"How weel I tweest hees leetle brains tooooday?"

"First, I weel examine my new play area."

"I weel seem to luf eet. Like zis: 'Ooh, Daddy, I lufs eet!'"


"But then - thees ees the genius part, friends - I weel run aroun' the yard, playing weeth everyting buts the play center!! Haha! Daddy's leetle brains essplode!"


"Then I looks innocent. They never suthpect they haf been played."

Devious, little girl. Verrry devious. Poor daddy.