Sunday, May 29, 2011

Join us on the front porch

Here we go.

The screened porch is up. Once again, we won the race with the neighborhood mosquitoes.

Actually, we’re about two weeks later than usual. This year, we had to replace the railing around the deck which finally gave way after 15 years of deep snow. Plus, we had to stain the new wood. Lots of huff and puff for our age.

As porches go, ours is not real big. Only 8’ by 16’. But it is our window to the world. Now we can begin our big drift into summer.

Our daily bookend begins with coffee and the newspaper in the morning and closes with wine and a little opera in the evenings. In between, we’ll enjoy children on bikes and trikes filling the sidewalk all day long.

Rattan, here we come.

Light naps.


Saturday, May 21, 2011

Apocalypse – the sequel

So. It’s not the end of the world. Is that the worst that can happen?

Life goes on. Today is Saturday and you should mow the grass.

You older people have to once again try and figure out how to Twitter. You know who you are.

Trash collection will resume Thursday. Every day is trash day if you are Glenn Beck.

And the Republicans still don’t have a viable candidate for president.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Wait for the Sunday sales

Question: how many presidential candidates are packed and ready for the Rapture this Saturday?

Damn. It would almost be worth the Big Show to see whether the "proud to be more Christian than you crowd" of Huckabee, Palin and Bachmann can pull the hill.

And wouldn’t you love a catbird seat at the C Street “church” where disgraced Sen. Ensign and his bachelor buddies lived and romped and held prayer services.

Does Judgment Day include the Supreme Court? Would that be Constitutional?

Glenn Beck? Not a chance. He’s a Mormon, a first cousin to Elmer Gantry, and a goddamned fool.

If I’m wrong and they do go up, I call dibs on the stuff they leave behind.

Turner Classic Movies should show Apocalypse Now.

On Sunday.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Bake a cake for the rapture

Sigh. There’s a nut-job guy predicting the rapture will come this Saturday.

His name is Harold Camping and he runs Family Radio, which took in $80 million in contributions between 2005 and 2009. And they are still passing the collection plate this weekend. Question: any chance of a refund?

Oblivious to the irony, the Star-Tribune ran a long article today on how to make an angel food cake. That’s hanging out the “welcome” sign. Without abandoning Mike Huckabee’s diet.

Which brings me to my first (and only) revelation about angels and cakes. The trick to light and fluffy is to cool the cake right out of the oven in the upside down position. That's the cake, not the cook. The directions are unclear on whether it must also be eaten that way. Standing on your head is always an option. If you are a registered Republican.

So, heat up the oven, hon. We’ll be first on our block to welcome the avenging angels of judgment day.

If we are still here, next week we’ll teach ambrosia.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

This is the good day

Today is what makes the Minnesota winters bearable – the promise of spring. Delivered.

Our street came alive today. A Vespa puttered past. Driver wearing shorts. Young couples with babies in strollers. Children outmaneuvered their parents and giggled at their sidewalk success. Teenagers shot baskets. Old folks puttered gently in the yard knowing tomorrow their backs and knees will talk back. Birds and squirrels realized rehearsal was over. This is the real deal.

Afternoon temps warmed to the low 60’s. Low 40's tonight. Perfect for the firepit.

Green has begun to push back through the tip ends of every tree on the block. Winds gush through the new growth. But this time, they are warming breezes. Last week's cold is forgiven and forgotten.

We’re late getting the screen porch up. Some deck repairs come first. But the lack of cover doesn’t inhibit the Mystery Woman from enjoying our weather gift. She and the dog have been sitting in the sun, listening to Madam Butterfly.

It has been so long since the little dog has had full yard privileges, she is still a bit confused. That, or modest. She pokes her head into the cluster of day lilies only to leave her business end in plain sight. Comical, yes, but efficient, too.

And one can only hope that’s the worst that happens this Spring. Not another metaphor.

We’re out of patience with metaphors. Literally and figuratively.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Are you grumpy, too?

Grumpy. I woke up grumpy and don’t know why. Maybe it’s from all the noise this political season. Makes me mean.

Think about this stuff:

If torture works, why couldn’t George Bush catch bin Laden?

Yes, bin Laden was unarmed. So were the civilians in the Twin Towers.

Every time Sarah Palin opens her whiney yap, I cannot help but think: shrill, baby, shrill.

The people who want the president to fail are treading close to treason.

Hypocritical Sen. Tom Coburn shielded his hypocritical colleague, Sen. John Ensign, who was having an affair with the wife of his own chief of staff. Sen. Ensign even proposed to the woman at a National Prayer Breakfast. While both were married.

See? By now, you are probably grumpy, too.

PS – I think Sen. Ensign is guilty of rape. After all, he had near complete control over that woman’s family finances through her husband’s job. Criminal abuse of power.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Water, wind and fire

Until last night, I had always thought of Spring as a promissory note. You know – birds chirping, flowers blooming and sex in the forest. Our just rewards to melt away the grit of winter.

Not in Minnesota. Up here, Spring is brutish and short, ushered in on the wail of the tornado sirens sounding the “take cover” under green skies. I take scant comfort in the knowledge that you can expect to see a bad-ass EF-2 or stronger at your door every 6,369 years, according to weatherman Paul Douglas.

A mere eight days ago, it snowed. Locals say that's nothing. It snowed every month for the last eight months.

But yesterday, the temperature hovered around 90 and the winds could not withstand the temptation. Boom. Three different tornado alerts.

Reminds me of West Texas.

Without the dust. Or the tumbleweeds.

Or the forests, come to think of it.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Did you hear the news?

She looked to be in her 60s. Nice little old lady. Minnesota Nice. In line in front of me at the bank this morning.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked of no one in particular. “Bin Laden. We got him. We got the bastard.”

Her reaction, and millions like hers, were heard around the world as the news broke late on Sunday night. Bin Laden is dead.

It took the Obama team only two years to do what the Bush people could not do in eight. No Tora Bora slip-ups here. No unseen drones firing rockets from miles up above. This was warfare up close and personal. A double-tap from a tough Navy Seal and the world is a better place.

We got the bastard.


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