It’s that time again already! My how time flies when we’re having fun. Huge haul today, if you can’t find a laugh in here somewhere, you should really get your prostate checked. 🤪
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And some sage parting advice from Shadow:
Thanks for stopping by, wishing y’all a lovely weekend!
I have to applaud our reader Highlander for sharing this musician who has me laughing so hard I have tears streaming down my cheeks! Nothing like a good laugh for health. So, first the fun stuff.
I believe this kind of ‘meaningful entertainment’ is an excellent way to spread the word about unpleasant news.
Another good one I’ve shared in the past, not a parody tune, a ballad, and very sad.
And, winding down, if you can muster the courage, Dane’s weekly Bad News Broadcast, which I never miss (much to Hubby’s chagrin!)
Keep laughin’, keep preppin’, and thanks for stopping by! 🤗
“The side effect of digitising the world is to sever you from your analogue conscious mind. The truth is that relationships, time, value, purpose, experience, sacrifice, humour, love, consciousness, and the sacred are irreducible to algorithm or anything else. And everybody knows this. Meaning precedes reason.
We don’t need to worry about artificial intelligence so much as we should be wholly concerned with the ‘artificialising’ of intelligence.
Once the world is digitised, behaviour is driven from the outside. The lie they sell you is that your unconscious desires are driving your behaviour. Bullshit, it’s all propaganda: fear porn, actual porn, manufactured crisis, the science, climate malarkey, nudges, lies, trickery, deception, politics, debt, consensus, tv, Netflix, social media, education, race, employment, news, suggestion, hypnotic repetition, drugs – legal and illegal, atheism, bad parenting advice, academia, institutional subservience, centralisation, new age mumbo-jumbo, the internet, trans, psychological conditioning, behavioural science and war. All lies. Everywhere.”
“The loss of memory by a nation is also a loss of its conscience” – Zbigniew Herbert
Almost entirely happy snaps and almost no complaining at all, really! The garden is mostly great, the weather mostly fine, summer in full swing already, ready or not.
It’s been busy around here, as usual. But, busy in the country way, which is very different. Our preservation season has already begun, and it’s fixing to get very busy very soon. I have mixed feelings about that, but here it is anyway.
I’ve been saving the rose petals for drying and kombucha after admiring their scent and beauty in many lights and angles.
The poppies continue to pop up in random places, among the roses and in cracks and crevices, like dandelions.
And the bees love them as much as I do.
Another rose variety, the thornless Peggy Martin, I just planted last year, is now getting its first blooms.
I’m so very pleased with the transition from cool-season coral honeysuckle blooms to the Dortmond rose takeover, lovely! I especially like the short spell they co-habitat.
The wattle fence I began with the best intentions is languishing due to too many other priorities. It has been a sheep deterrent at least, since the mamas and lambs have taken over the front yard. And even Shadow doesn’t dare stand in their way!
This is where the citrus will go, my new big project. I’m even considering throwing an avocado in there too. I know, very ambitious! But, I want to give some of the new methods a try and it seems like a good time. This side of the house is ideal, the house breaking the north wind and the heavy late afternoon sun. Plus, there’s the extra warmth accumulated in the walls of the house to help in cold snaps, along with the extra heating and draping methods that seem to be working for others.
Ooohhh, anticipation!
Just like the tomatoes and cucumbers coming so soon, right around the corner, and I can hardly wait. The last fermented cucumbers we used up a week ago, amazingly, and they were still crispy and flavorful. I plan to continue and expand my fermenting efforts this summer and fall. More herb pastes, more tea blends, more spice mixes.
The lambs are still doing fine, my how fast they grow.
Spring lambs on springs! 😆
My garden mascots, two white rabbits.
And my single complaint—the spray continues to ruin our beautiful days.
Is this why we can so clearly see these colors, because we have an atmosphere saturated with reflective particulate matter?
Cool pic, or chem-filled haze?
“I’m no prophet Lord, I don’t know nature’s ways.” ‘Anticipation’ by Carly Simon
When I lived in Europe in the 90s it was not too uncommon to see an amazing castle for sale for a pittance. I do mean a real castle, or a vast country estate that included a structure that once was a castle.
And I do mean a pittance, as in, they were not able to give these places away.
Vauburg, France (not my image), bit of a multi-generational hodge-podge.
Sometimes that was because they came with strings attached, so I can understand. Or it was designated for a specific purpose or with strict regulations. You had to restore it, for example, which was something that cost so much that the just wealthy could not afford it.
I had a French boyfriend for a while, who boasted some aristocratic lineage and took me to the castle where his aunt still lived. I marveled at the exquisite property and at the lingering formality of his kin who addressed each other, that is as husband and wife, in the formal, using ‘vous’.
Maybe the uber-wealthy could afford it, if they cared to, but they just didn’t have the interest?
Or, which I’m actually more inclined to think these days, even with their fortunes, they would not be able to restore it. Because the skills to accomplish such an extraordinary endeavor have been lost to time.
A single example of the dozens of architectural marvels which have been destroyed in our little city, with more on the chopping block all the time.
In those days I dreamed of becoming a travel writer, or a writer of historical fiction. So, it’s not a huge stretch for me now to covet an interest in such parallel stories here, today, locally.
This is the closest real city to us, Palestine. What I’d call a small city today, though growing steadily. It was never more than a small city, as far as population goes. Just how it amassed such an amazing amount of great architecture is a real mystery to me. Though there are official stories.
I knew there was some interesting history there, and all around here, but it’s not like I’ve had a lot of time for exploring such idle pastimes, with all the work trying to build up a homestead.
But lately I’ve been squeezing in some time and loving it!
And of course, you’ve got to blossom where you’re planted. I used to tour every castle or abbey or old walls or ruins I could find, whether in the Old Town of any European city or hamlet, or a day hike away from the nearest bus stop.
This Old World has entered center stage for me again thanks to the Cyber World, which is really kinda crazy. But, true.
I’ve seen this old church for sale the last few times while driving through the downtown streets marveling at the old buildings.
I stop for lunch, and at a favorite antique shop, where I see tourists, which I find delightful. Though they only have much interest in the antique shops and the cafes and the provided entertainment. Still, it’s fun hearing German in the tourist office and hearing ladies from places all around the region, even in a rainstorm, there to peruse what our little city has to offer.
I was a novice travel writer, until I met the love of my life, who I managed to lure from the beaches of Thailand to a trailer park in Mena, Arkansas.
Hubby and I at ‘Roman ruins’ in Spain 2003—note our cute matching outfits—that was not planned.
And look who returned the favor by luring me into the deep woods of East Texas to spend an exceptional amount of time doing menial labor. 😏
I was also a beginner tour guide, Mayflower Tours. I lasted about two weeks, until I realized how unsuited I was to a job hosting a bus full of retirees for four-day trips to and around Branson, Missouri three times a month.
I think they weeded out a lot of us that way. There must be a trick to how many bossy seniors and cowboy theaters can be stomached for minimum wage, but I couldn’t figure that out quite fast enough. Another potential career option in the toilet.
And yet . . .
When I see precious gems like this my imagination sparks just like those days in Spain, France, Germany, UK, Czech Republic, Poland . . . Ok, everywhere, just about everywhere. I was very much a Europhile. Still am.
And yet . . .
I’m so struck by the lack of general interest. And knowledge. And, frankly, care.
I see the collapsing remnants of a structure worth saving. I see a history worth understanding and passing forward.
That’s the shot to inspire a buyer’s creative juices? Yikes. What about its real history, does anyone care? And, where’s the roof?
But the Realtors, who are there to sell this precious gem, see little of that world, neither the past nor the true potential. It’s such a shame. Such a very common, and so very confusing, big fat shame.
Will it become an ‘event venue’ as they suggest? It’s hard to imagine the kind of events that would make such a renovation effort worthwhile, or particularly palatable. Is there even such skilled workmanship available today?
Dare I question, true philanthropy, if it ever existed at all, is it dead?
There are many such gems in our little city, which suggest but mere clues to the true treasures in our midst, in plain sight—all teetering in a world of nearly forgotten but, dare I hope, at least a cyber-revival?
A taste of the hidden history in plain site, he’s getting to all the states eventually, and beyond, one of a great many channels sparking my renewed interests . . . 😁
As much as I complain about the weather—that is mostly, the man-made weather—I feel I must give credit when credit is due.
We’ve been having a spectacular spring. Not one hail storm, flood, tornado to speak of. Perhaps still too light on the rain for my liking, but it’s been enough to keep things growing beautifully around here.
So I just thought I’d share a bit of that splendor here and now, even though I haven’t the time or energy for much else at the moment. I’ve been preparing all week for another basic fermentation workshop, which means a lot of mise en place (that’s a fancy French expression for ‘get your shit together’). 😆
The coral honeysuckle, looking more amazing than ever, with the rose growing in there just about to bloom too. And a hummingbird finally showed up to enjoy it too, but there’s not a chance to catch him on camera without many hours to spare.
I tossed poppy seeds out by the hundreds, everywhere. And they’ve shown up in the most unusual places, one at a time, in the tiny cracks between wood and grass, under the dogwood, under the mulberry, in the garlic patch and the turnip rows, just one each, out of hundreds.
I’m glad, I so love them, but I don’t get it. Why there? And where are the rest of them?
Everybody loves the turnip blossoms, especially the bees and goats!
You can see Chestnut’s abscess has almost completely disappeared, hardly visible anymore. But Walnut behind her has torn her ear something terrible, probably in a fence somewhere, doing just what she’s doing here. We may have to change her name to Van Gogh.
Getting some good kohlrabi and kale and potatoes, and peas, and strawberries and clover, and just about everything, coming in strong.
I’ve been meaning to get some cute lamb vid soon too, really! They are at that adorable stage. Next month come the kids!
Following is my personal opinion on: ‘Daily writing prompts’* and the personal lives of ‘Activists’.
It should be considered Rated R, Adult Content, Not Suitable for Work. And generally just bitchy.
(Furthermore, it may be considered as a Self-Righteous Rant and a Cowardly Non-Accusation aimed specifically at I know who but will not name, because these are the kinds of fuckers who will publicly come after me to berate a tiny fish in front of their very large audiences. As I’ve seen them do on numerous occasions to others who dare to ‘cross’ them, even privately.)
Today, among the political classes and the masses, we have victim groups, instead of individual victims. It’s a kind of class action diffusion. It’s like the old adage: 1 death is a tragedy, a million a statistic.
Maybe that’s why it’s become de rigeur for our ‘influencers’ to pile so much of their personal baggage into the public sphere. I’m not talking a time or two, or a personage or two, I’m talking a years-long pattern of ‘popular’ people spraying every issue with their personal odiferous and onerous and particularly cacophonous stench.
‘It’s not your work, Hannon – it’s your attitude.’
(And, I want to be very clear here, I’m not talking about all those folks with personal blogs. Blogging is by its nature a borderline media—somewhat public, certainly not private. Somewhat professional, sometimes, but mostly more like gathering at the cyberhood pub. Personal blogs sharing folks’ personal issues in their lives is a fine genre for generating support and camaraderie and insights and I enjoy and appreciate many of them.)
I’m talking about those who consider themselves, who are labeling themselves, as activists or influencers or journalists, specifically. Very public folks feeding their audiences on a regularly supply of their constantly distracting and dramatic personal conflicts and dramas.
Landing somewhere between a Mexican soap opera and politicians’ tawdry nightly news scandals, I find I’m being increasingly bombarded with the personal lives and conflicts of an increasing number of ‘advocates’ and ‘influencers’ and ‘activists’ and ‘philosophers’.
Who are these people and why are their personal lives weaved in so tightly with their public work?
From their personal lawsuits, to their family problems, to their health issues, to their constant bickering with the opposition—which really makes me wonder—are these activists in fact trying to replace the current Hollywood celebrities?
It’s like a version of reality TV for the ‘alternative’ or ‘conspiracy’ or ‘news’ buff. Who’s being censored this week? Who’s blocked whom? Who’s going bankrupt? Who’s getting divorced? Who’s going to rehab?
And then those very same activists claim their work is all about criticizing the SYSTEM, and it’s not about individuals.
Wait, what?
If this is about the system, why is your audience being constantly drawn to the dramas about YOU, an individual? And your relationships. And your endless conflicts. And your constant frustrations. And your family life. And your love life, or lack there of.
If it’s really not about you, then stop making it about you!
And, on, and on. Every fucking where they go they create conflict. And then ‘unpack’ it, for hours, for their audiences. How/why is this? Every damn month it’s some new drama with some poor new (or repeat) sap. All over the screens, unavoidable, poking their pathetic noses into my feeds on a regular basis.
How many collaborators must I block while still being subjected to your ‘news’? Your shifty, and forever shifting, views. Criticizing everyone while no one’s allowed to criticize you. Whining constantly how you are all about the ‘greater good’ while sucking the hearts out of your collaborators and supporters alike, for years.
Why bring your personal life to your work, and then demand your audience and collaborators focus solely on your work? Either bring your personal shit into the space, or leave it out. Don’t be that dumbass bitch who wears her teeny-tiny tank top on the city street and then whines when men gawk at her.
There’s a place for airing your dirty laundry in public—it’s located somewhere between the Red Light District and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.
Please y’all, spare me, and park yourselves there, so I know how to better avoid you in future.
________
*Why include those innocent-seeming ‘daily writing prompts’ in my diatribe, like those shuffled out right here on WP, you might ask?
Because they are invasive and I believe a stepping stone onto the TMI stage. Diffusing your victimhood or childhood fears or daily dramas through writing is cathartic and can be healthy, within safe environments and safe people.
These platforms are not safe. A nameless/faceless/largely invisible audience is not safe. Being a public figure in general requires a certain level of risk. And, being courageous enough to publicly share your difficulties in order to help or educate or vent or encourage, or even criticize others is not the problem.
It’s the deliberate and repeated interference of the private sphere into the public forums that is collapsing healthy discourse and glueing the undiscerning public eye on the train wrecks of the characters speaking over the actual social issues in question.
If that’s not a deliberate diversionary tactic, it sure the hell looks like one from where I’m standing. These are ‘professional activists’ doing a grave disservice to public activity. And the platforms are encouraging it because it generates copious data and more eager audiences around otherwise rather dry topics.
It’s the ‘Clinton-Lewinsky Effect’ of the Activists’ Cult and when I see it happen 3 times with one activist I know they are a card-carrying member of this cult and that’s the sign it’s high time to step away from their addictions, distractions and shenanigans.
Kensho Homestead 