Planting Day At Webner House

Yesterday the weather was beautiful in Columbus.  Conditions were perfect for planting flowers in the beds around our patio, and I was itching to buy a few flats and get some dirt under my fingernails.

I went to the new garden store in the neighborhood and purchased four flats — red Salvia, orange Marigold, yellow Zinnia, and “ice cream banana” Celosia.  I wanted to try to  create a kind of color and size pattern.  I would plant the taller, fireapple red Salvia at the rear of the beds against our shrubbery, and then add rows of the progressively lighter and shorter Marigolds, then Zinnias, and finally Celosias. As the same time, I would create pots for the front front steps and backyard.

It felt great to get out the garden shovel and potting soil and to kneel down and put my hands in the warm earth.  It was a hot day, and soon my glasses and shirt were streaked with sweat.  But the sun felt good on my back, and I quickly achieved a kind of zen-like gardening state.  Shovel out a small hole, drop in some potting soil, carefully remove the plant and its square of soil from the tray in the flat, put them in the ground, and fill in the rest of the hole. Do it repetitively, one after the other, without thinking too much about it.

I worked steadily and before I knew it, I was done.  My back ached, my hands were filthy, and I got blisters and lost patches of skin in the expected places on my palms, but I felt an immense sense of accomplishment.  Shortly after I finished, a helpful thunderstorm rolled in and gave the new flowerbeds their first watering, and I watered them again this morning, enjoying the neat rows of flowers and the rich colors.

Gardening, like other household chores, offers immediate rewards for those who are willing to contribute the sweat equity.  You start with a bag of soil and some flats of flowers, and you end with flowerbeds that, in my humble opinion, look pretty darned good.

Advertisements

Weiner’s World

Everybody seems to be talking about the bizarre tale of Congressman Anthony Weiner, a Democrat from New York, and his Twitter photo.

For those sane few who have managed to miss the story, Weiner’s Twitter feed sent a lewd photo of some bulging underwear to a college girl in Seattle whose Twitter account Weiner has been “following.”  He claims his account was hacked as part of a “prank,” but he refuses to call law enforcement authorities to investigate.  He also won’t deny that the photo that was sent actually was a photo of his crotch area.

Weiner keeps hoping that the story will go away, but it hasn’t.  Every day there is some new revelation — most recently that an analysis of Weiner’s legitimate Twitter posts were sent using the same platform that launched the infamous crotch shot photo.  If Weiner thinks that the techno geeks who love to dig into hacking incidents are going to let this drop, he’s dreaming.  They will keep digging, and digging, and digging.

This story is so weird it’s hard to say what the weirdest element is.  Does Weiner really have so many crotch shot photos that he can’t determine whether the photo in question was one of him?  But for me the most curious aspect of this story is that a Member of Congress is spending so much time on Twitter, following the Twitter comments of random women out in cyberspace.  Doesn’t he have something better to do?  Doesn’t he realize that no good can come of late-night, instantaneous communications with unknown coeds?  I think such conduct tell you a lot about this guy’s judgment and character.