Not a Facebook Post, but Similar

I was in a quandary about what to write. Too lazy to research important topics, out of time, with the majority of comments about “The Alternative” favoring personal experiences, and not lecturing, I'll write this:

I look at Facebook. I started when Dawn posted videos of songs every day while the Covid panic drove her from her nursing home gigs. The staff could then show the videos to residents who were missing her performances. She did over 600 of those things; all different songs in different costumes, in different settings. Country, gospel, some folk, and hymns.

We have a friend who told me that some people lack the innate ability to enjoy music. This (me) biggest music fan in the world, fell for this girl before he knew she was a musician. I often tear-up when listening to music. Maybe some of those tears are for the people who find no joy in it.

On Facebook people tell what they had for lunch, show pictures of their blooming Christmas Cactus, or ask if someone has an old ball-glove they no longer use. I don't write on there, partly because I have an outspoken friend who did and warned me about it.

I'm this far into this column and haven't yet written about the subject my son suggested. He suggested telling about what's going on around here. So here goes. Dawn played piano and organ at the Catholic Church this morning while I did chores and went to the Aredale Fire Department breakfast. Seeing friends and neighbors over a tasty breakfast like that rivals a Roland Kirk sax solo. I didn't cry, though.

We planted a windbreak 42 years ago. A dozen years ago most of the shallow rooted arborvitae died in a drought. This year the ash trees succumbed to the emerald ash borer (EAB). It's a great time to be young and energetic, and heat with the best firewood you can get. All the ash will die. A little over ten years ago we started planting some swamp white oak and soft maple in anticipation of the EAB. The dogwood bushes are still okay.

These ash trees are a lot more work than the larch we burned out West. In the timber by the river we could leave the sticks. In the yard we pick them up. There are lots of sticks. Larch have just a few fine branches. And they break off when felled.

We have a two foot tall raised bed garden and are building another one. I planted peas, spinach, and carrots yesterday. The spinach planted last fall is just starting to take off. Start in August and plant some each week until winter is close. Eat the early plantings. There's no need to protect them with mulch. The later plantings will come back just like winter wheat and be ready to eat before spring planted seeds. Spinach salad with bacon and Italian dressing goes well with music and a pretty girl.

I guess I was born a ramblin' man. I've been rambling. But I have to say the following:

Senator Grassley sends a note each week by email. Last week he complained about electric vehicles stifling ethanol sales, neither one of which should have been promoted by taxpayers. He also reassured us that 2/3 of all that blood money, for the slaughter in Ukraine and Israel, is being spent in the good ol' USA on wages and materials. How horrific and depraved. Freddy Kruger would be proud.

Please respond to my column through a letter to the editor or with an email to 4selfgovernment@gmail.com