No Laughing Matter

On Monday through Thursday nights Brian and I record The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, then watch it together the next early evening. It’s been almost a year, now, since we swore off all network evening news programs, preferring instead to consume our news through the filter of humor, or else reading it on selected online sites. Such are the times we live in, now.

I have this fantasy that Colbert will take his own questionnaire, on air, before his program ends this coming May. Or that at least he might reveal to us what number he’s been thinking of each time he queries his guests. My best guess is that the number changes daily and matches the number of each new episode, or perhaps it is a countdown of the number of shows he has left before his un-renewed contract expires. In my last blog post, I took The Colbert Questionnaire myself, several days ago.

As sad as it is to realize that his current show is winding down, there is no doubt in my mind that Stephen will go on to do great things, and continue fighting fascism in a media format that is not corporate or Trump-controlled. Most of his fans would eagerly follow him almost anywhere, at this point.

Stephen, Stephen, Stephen….

The Colbert Questionnaire

What is the best sandwich?

Summer: BLT with garden fresh tomatoes                     Winter: toasty cheese with bread ‘n butter pickles 

What was your first concert attended?

Chuck Mangione at JMU with childhood bestie

What is the scariest animal?

Any venomous snake

Apples or oranges? 

Peaches!

Have you ever asked someone for their autograph?

Not that I recall

What do you think happens when we die?

Our souls find peace and live on with those we’ve loved. 

Favorite action movie?

Is Chitty Chitty Bang Bang considered an action movie?

Window or aisle?

Window for long flights; aisle for short flights

Favorite smell?

Freshly mown grass

Least favorite smell?

Burnt overflow in the oven

Cats or dogs?

Cats

You only get one song to listen to for the rest of your life. (You don’t have to listen to it continuously, but when you do go to listen to music, this is the song you hear.)

Johann Sebastian Bach St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244 Stuttgart Bach Collegium with Helmuth Rilling

What number am I thinking of?

6-7

Describe the rest of your life in five words.

Retiring to garden and wander

Unearthing My Blog

I’m back, at least intermittently, with one eye on this year’s Hundred Day Challenge beginning in March. 

The reason is twofold: I’m once again co-teaching a period of ELA 6, and I came here to read some of my old writing. 

Chances are good that I will stay for a while. 

The Four Types of Conflict in the School Garden

Man vs. Man

Who can fill their wheelbarrow to the brim with wood-chips, first?

Has someone over-timed their turn with the wheelbarrow, or the lighter shovel?

Who gets to harvest okra, a favorite, this week?

Man vs Society

How do we enforce No Smoking and leaving your butts at the Garden’s picnic table under the magnolia trees?

How do we share our garden with with general public (friendly fences, no locked gates) without any whole watermelons or pumpkins disappearing? 

Man vs. Nature

Why are the green beans so hard to locate while harvesting?

Why is a drought so difficult for gardeners? (And conversely, why are gardeners so happy for rain?!)

Which critter has been nibbling on our butternut squashes?

Man vs. Technology

Why do our irrigation hoses release less water from year to year?

Why is the spicket pressure so unpredictable?

How can we repair our trellis infrastructure without completely rebuilding it?

Ohio and Beyond

A March without snow days is like a car trip through Ohio. 

Here we are, at the precipice of Spring Break 2023, about to feel the release of the school year’s longest month with the whackiest weather and the most challenging end-of-quarter wrap-up assignments. 

Collectively we exhale.

Hurriedly sorting and starting laundry in order to fill a suitcase and fly off to Houston, or Albuquerque, or California, or Florida. Pumping up bike tires for miles of trail-ward contemplation. Literally heading for the hills or parks or rivers or beaches. Catching up with household errands and projects. Sleeping in. Going out. Seeing old friends. Power washing patios and decks. Hitting favorite nurseries. Planting entranceway pots. Reading in a hammock.

Different directions, projects, plans - all beyond endless Ohio.

In ten days we’ll be back with tanks full for the rest of the trip.

Cue Plan B

Garden Club Kick-off 2023 was forced inside by light rain this afternoon. 

Our group of four not-to-be-deterred students sorted native pollinator seeds we'd collected together last Fall into mini-envelopes that we plan to give-away on Earth Day. Separating the flat, brown milkweed seeds from their delicate, white parachutes was not as challenging as capturing the flying fluff that then took flight around the room. 

Like humans, plants need self-preservation techniques to survive.

For a field trip from Room 270, we visited the two light tables in our building to inspect seedlings: the spring greens in Ms. Leonberger's room (bok choy, collards, curly kale) and the ELD Science trays of roma tomatoes, jalapeños, zinnias, and marigolds. Ever since we realized that we needed timers to give our baby plants a good night's rest, they are so much happier. 

Like humans, plants need darkness to ultimately thrive.

Ms. Brown's freshly-baked cookies, containing basil-lime butter that she'd made from the end of last Fall's basil crop, hastily harvested before the first frost and subsequently stored in the freezer, topped off the afternoon for us. Today was a good start to what we hope will be another fun season of growing, learning, and serving our local community. Plan B was a total success!

Like nature, humans learn to adapt.

My Old Town

Down in Harrisonburg yesterday I had the rare opportunity to wander around in town for a couple of hours. 

First, I found a great cup of strong coffee and a slice of French Almond cake at the Farmers’ Market, after visiting with a family friend at his shitake mushroom table. Next I ventured into my favorite shops on South Main Street that are full of local arts, crafts, and wares (Oasis and Agora) as well as international fairly-traded treasures (Ten Thousand Villages). Finally, I hit the Friendly City Food Co-op and picked up some Spring seedlings. 

I was pleased to see small groups gathered near the farmers’ market for International Women’s Day, and in front of the courthouse in support of Ukraine. I noticed a new-to-me bakery adjacent to the historic Harrison House, and a quilt museum in a grand house dating back to the mid-1800s.

The blind man in front of Woolworth with his accordion is long gone, along with the lunch counters at the Woolworth, and the McCrory’s. Both the State Theater and the Virginia Theater are distant memories now, one of them burned to the ground. Jess’s Quick Lunch is more recently departed. But Kline’s Dairy is still going strong, and the updated Library stands proud beside the twenty-year-old Harrisonburg Children’s Museum that appears to be thriving.

The vibrancy on the streets was uplifting, and almost reminiscent of the downtown from my youth. Before the mall. Before the sprawl. My old town lives on.