Cold Front

We are supposed to have cold weather tonight, even in the forties! Such a thrill for us here in the heart of global warming. The broccoli plants are heading up and the garden is bursting with all kinds of greens, peas, beans, chard, onions and salad greens. Right now there is no need to buy any vegetables except tomatoes and pumpkins.

The baby squirrels come out in the morning and play, running and chittering and wrestling like middle school siblings. The regular cardinals and titmice and wrens are at the feeders. The chimney swifts left shortly after the hummingbirds, so now we can make a fire in the fireplace tomorrow evening.

Steve the painter and his son are renovating all the teetering banisters and steps up to the porches. I am impressed with the high quality of the work and the careful attention to detail. These guys move everything, clean everything, put stuff back, fix things they see, and vote Democratic. They have a faithful group of people who want their work, but as with everyone these days, they are eager to be employed.

Such a lovely day after the heavy rains of yesterday that brought magic green to the pastures. I am always depressed on rainy and overcast days. And this week that brought irritating and hard things left me flat. So, this day of brilliant sunshine and blue sky and time to work on my latest quilt and walk in the fields was welcome.

I am coming to accept the reality of this election. There is either a mean spirit or a total lack of appreciation for helping those in our American society in need. Kind of feels like a selfish fear, a stoppage of moral feeling at the third grade level. Or probably ignorance.

This week in the classroom where I volunteer, there was a small skinny seven year old who had complained all week of pain in his back. Even in the midst of a lovely and exciting project he seemed wan. When he approached his teacher and said he wanted to go to the office and "check out", I said to him, "Can I look?" and I raised his shirt and saw raw scabs where he had clearly been beaten. (He said that his sister had pushed him.) Probably this child, who had complained of pain all week, was trying to make the best of a really bad situation. He may have cracked ribs, who knows? But this child's parents are probably illegal Mexicans with so many issues, who knows? I wonder if Rick Scott looking at these wounds on the skinny brown back of a seven year old, could in good conscience cut off funds for the American social safety net?

I want to believe that Americans, independent and cranky as we are, are good hearted. But as of this moment, I am not sure. What I am sure of is that the people who voted in the tea party candidates must be fearful and not thorough thinkers. Their lives are metered out in sound bites and tweets.
As I have said, the garden grows magnificently.