grassroots rhetoric

We appoint you. You disappoint us, we dis-appoint you.
~county resident to the commissioners

My tail bone became numb while sitting on a metal folding chair at the county commissioners’ meeting. There were close to 800 people gathered to protest a big corporation who wanted to spirit away our water. All had a paper flag that read DON’T SELL OUR WATER. I was looking forward to a good ol’ fist fight at the OK Corral. It didn’t materialize, because, apparently, the developer and his sidekick lawyer turned tail, when they heard about the mass of discontent. The crowd roared victoriously when it was announced the fat cats withdrew their intention. I thought great! we can go home now. Not so fast…many of the resident protesters started to realize they had to drive many miles across country roads, taking time away from their jobs or having to find a babysitter. Disgruntled, but bold, citizens lined up in the aisle leading to the microphone to state their opinions in three minutes or less, only after spelling their name for the court reporter. I was impressed, but my hiney was really numb. I had nothing intelligent to say, but I did raise my flag in support of the cause. After two hours, the crowd began to slowly disperse. We left contented, although somewhat wary, because we realize that the fight isn’t over. They’ll be back. It was one of those moments, witnessing grassroots America in action. It was refreshing to find that there is strength in numbers. I also realized (actually it was brought to my attention) that I have a masculine handshake.

off the wall

Just go up to somebody on the street and say “You’re it!” and then run away.”
– Ellen DeGeneres

When I was young and while joking around with some girl buddies at the family’s lake cabin, I had a rib cracking belly laugh after someone retorted, AAH, your mother wears army boots. That was the first time I heard that expression, and I have never forgotten that moment of whimsy. Because I have always been entertained by the lyrics of C&W music, I thought I’d give it a go at one of the truly American genres. Here’s my contribution, utilizing the subject of army boots, of course:

Momma, don’t put your army boots back on.
You can drill me, grill me,
if you don’t want to thrill me.
Just don’t march out through that door.

When we first met at the armory dance,
you gave me a swig from your whiskey flask.
I knew then you enlisted me in your heart.
I didn’t know you’d tread on mine so hard.

We bivouac-ed under the stars
and shared our classified secrets from afar.
But, when you finished the bottle,
I began to babble…

Momma, don’t put your army boots back on.
You can order me, badger me,
and even capture me.
Just don’t march out through that door.

Now that was fun. It was a good way to wake up the brain during morning coffee, much to the chagrin of my husband who was trying to read the newspaper. 🙂 Back to my outside chores.

shady thoughts

“A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.”
– Greek Proverb

two ashes, one chokecherry, one austrian pine

Oh, the glorious deciduous that provides cool shade in the sizzling heat of summer! Well, I don’t think we’ll have the chance to utilize them for that purpose, but at least we will have the joy of watching them grow stronger for the future owners of this property, provided we keep those pests from devouring the leaves. The trees above, one Canadian Red, two Patmore ashes, and one Austrian pine (always a good standby), were painstakingly but lovingly planted this past week. Even though there have been a few gullywashers in the past month or two, the ground was nonetheless tough to dig. I could say it was a tad softer than rock. The heat didn’t help, even though we started in the early hours of the morning. At least I lost one pound. We had shied away from planting deciduous years ago after losing a few. This time we were armed with the proper supplies, and I might add…new found determination to have some fall colors. I guess better late than never (the old adage of which I have become weary). The clouds that you see in the photo?…we never got a drop of the moisture. The pleasure in planting, however, outweighs the lack of summer rain, and the aching muscles and stiff lower backs. But, that’s why God invented water hoses and liniment.