The Furious Spinner

First, think about this. Sandy Berger got caught taking classified documents from the National Archives LAST October. Strangely enough, it suddenly became a big story at the beginning of the week, just before the 9/ll Commission Final Report. Sandy Berger, Clinton's National Security Advisor, is a regular "expert" on the news programs and would likely have been all over the tube talking about the report this week—if this story had not suddenly blown up. Now, some say Berger is a war-monger and now he is possibly a thief and the Dems shouldn't waste their time defending him. This may be true; I don' t know. But it bothers me that Karl Rove and his minions get away with so much crap. I think Berger was outed so that he couldn't talk to the press about the report AND so the press would have something to talk about besides the report—something that made the Dems look bad. Then today—a Friday—the Pentagon announced that, gee, we really do have Bush's military records. This is the beginning of the weekend, so this story won't be big news. It just seems so maniacal—so Machiavellian.

Also, I am worried that something bad and big will happen during the Democratic convention—something purposeful—to make the Dems look bad and to turn the spotlight away from Kerry. Rove and his people are desperate, I believe, and anything could happen.

I hope I am oh so wrong.

It's over 100 degrees Fahrenheit in our little town. The flowers are wilted—and so are the town's residents. Water is too expensive to use on lawns, but some of us sneak a bit to our flowers. Of course, I have to water my vegetable garden. As I quenched the thirst of a group of wild daisies this evening, something dark and slippery moved on the tiny sidewalk next to the flower bed. Startled, I stepped back slightly, so I wouldn't mash the small garter snake that had suddenly appeared. "Hello," I said. "Welcome." It slithered into the flower bed, causing the green leaves of various flowers to quiver—as if bent by a tiny invisible something—as the snake moved unseen over the ground.

When I went back inside the cool house, Mario had waiting for me a delicious dinner of quinoa and sauteed fresh vegetables, including snow peas, sage, and rosemary from my garden. This more than made up for being awakened this morning at 7:30 a.m., only three hours after I had fallen to sleep, to the sound of our electric mower outside our bedroom window. I stumbled groggily downstairs and yelled out the window, "Hey, what's going on? I just got to sleep." Mario frowned and looked distressed. "But you always sleep through the neighbor's mower." I just shook my head, went back upstairs and—fortunately— went back to sleep, sans the mower noise.

That's all the news here that's fit to type.

Still oozing after all these years...

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All photographs and written material copyright © 2003-2008 by Kim Antieau unless otherwise indicated. May not be used without permission.