Thursday, April 21, 2016
furnival's daughter
This rhododendron is called Furnival's Daughter. It is my very favorite. My husband went to an old farmhouse and talked to some old farm people and asked for permission to take some cuttings. It was that easy. I've been looking for this particular rhody for years, never finding one for sale -- it is an old one -- and now I have five potential plants sitting on my patio. I love them.
Annie is coming to visit this weekend. I warned that there was nothing to do in Yamhill -- this is the enormous appeal of my town -- but I was wrong! It is the weekend of the Duck Derby. We are clogging up the occasionally scenic Yamhill River with rubber ducks and having a race. Mine is #347, I think. It isn't a very fast river, so it may be a bit of a wait. I'm not sure "race" is quite the right word. Mosey. The Great Yamhill-Carlton Rubber Duck Mosey. That sounds more like it.
The garden is in. It is early, too early in my estimation, and we had some discussion about that. But ever the immediate gratificationist, Kurt won and the plants are in. Yesterday we had ongoing radio and TV announcements of half-dollar sized hail alert seek cover inside and away from windows, and he came running from work to protect the homestead, but no rain fell, let alone hellfire and damnation. It has been 95 degrees this past week, and while I enjoyed the dirt of Utah, I have no interest in living in the desert as climate change makes northern Oregon into southern Oregon, quite literally. I moved from there on purpose, for love and rain and green.
So, politics. Since you asked. I'm all tied up in knots. I've had good friends railing at me about Bernie Sanders. And he does seem nice. But I'm just seriously in the camp of non-trump. I will support whichever democrat gets through the obstacle course. Of course I'm all for "people rising up." I was in the sixties for chrissake. I'll admit I wasn't exactly paying attention. But I really don't follow how exactly the people are going to do all of that. I read. I think I lack the idealism gene. I'm guessing Hillary will be the nominee, and that's okay. I wish I could be more excited for the first female president, but I'm not. And that is too bad. I'm just horrified that we have such a chasm in our nation that would allow the rise of someone so clearly dangerous, so monumentally creepy, to the highest office. I watch and listen for any tidbit of newsiness like a junkie. I am entertained. High cost, that.
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