Your Weekly Bouquet

It's been a busy first week of school and the zinnias I grew and arranged into bouquets are my calming grace.

That's happy!

This One is for Grandpa Bud

Over Labor Day weekend, T and I went to a local car show.  We both like old cars and there were rows and rows of refurbished cars for us to admire.  I made dozens of pictures, especially of logos on the cars.  If you ask me, these old-school logos are designed with some style to spare.

I found the Ford logos particularly charming because they remind me of my mechanic Grandfather, a man called Bud.  He taught me how to drive a stick shift and loved cars.

Until the awesome gas milage and mechanic ease of Hondas Civics lured him away, Grandpa Bud was a Ford man.

I believe that the last Ford he owned was a Gran Torino, a car best described as a steel beast.  I didn't see any of those were at the car show, but there were plenty of other Fords to admire.

I wouldn't mind driving an old Mustang with a logo like like this (and, as I recall, my mother did so when I was a kid).

Just the thought of it makes me want to throw a fast car in gear and take it for a ride.  Grandpa Bud would understand.

First Day of School

Yesterday, JT started the 8th grade.  For the 11th year in a row, I made some pictures of him on the front porch.  It's a tradition and the boy even smiled as he indulged me.

7th grade was rather a rough ride at my house and as I made these photos yesterday morning, I found myself reflecting on the last school year.  We've been at work on some things to make the 8th grade better.  And so I live in hope, as one must when dealing with a kid.  For one thing, he is 13 and he's a child (no matter how large and how loud) and children are by their very definition works in progress.  For another, living in hope is the only strategy I know.  And so I embrace the uncertainty and live in hope.

S

The Back to School Season

Our last long weekend before the start of school was the sort of glorious weather that makes everything better.   There were blue skies with gentle breezes and perfect temperatures.   I spent the days alternating between some of my usual back-to-school chores and soaking up the last bits of unscheduled time.  

Late Friday afternoon, I sat out on the back deck under old man tree for more than two hours, finishing one terrific book and then starting another while I enjoyed an adult beverage.  The light was perfect and the time was a reminder of all the things I love best about summer.  

No doubt I'll miss these relaxed days when school starts in full force later today.  But summer wouldn't taste so sweet if it happened all the time.   The energy and excitement of kids in the hallways gives cadence to my days and motivates me.   And so I face the day - and the school year - with a feeling of promise.

No Good Choices

I have followed the civil war in Syria since it began.  Disheartening as it is, the news that Bashir al-Assad authorized the use of sarin nerve gas on his people (likely for a second time) was no particular surprise to me.  While I understand the reasoning behind the Obama Administration's condemnation of the attack and the reluctant decision to consider a military response, I remain undecided as to a proper response to Assad's actions.  Syria is a mess with good guys in short supply.  The fact is that while there are plenty of policy options on the table (invade, bomb a lot, bomb a little, do nothing), none of them are very good choices.   

Those bad choices are made worse by the reluctance of traditional American allies to support us.  This has less to do with the fact that there are no good options or even international criticism of Obama foreign policy than it does with the very painful reality that our Bush-era post 9/11 foreign policy choices were so grossly abusive of our allies. The ways we handled Afghanistan in the years after our invasion have not inspired the world's confidence, let alone our allies.  There, an attack that might very well have had a legitimate purpose, rapidly evolved into a morass of poor planning made worse by the arrogance of American leaders.  But it was our ill-advised invasion of Iraq, driven by the assertions lies that Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction, that really tipped the balance against the U.S. as an honest broker of foreign policy information.  

Between Afghanistan and Iraq, thousands of people have died as a result of American hubris.  There is a continuing price to be paid for it, as the Obama Administration is learning right now.  In dealing with Syria in 2013, we are reaping the consequences of America's failures in Afghanistan and Iraq.  The world no longer sees the U.S. as a reliable voice of the moral high ground.  Our motives are suspect and our judgment is no longer guaranteed to be trustworthy.

None of this is to excuse the Obama Administration from some errors in the handling of the complex problem that is Syria.  But there was never an obvious or easy policy road in Syria and that reality, combined with our own actions after 9/11, has landed us squarely in this moment.   Given the U.S. domestic political climate right now, I think that President Obama was right to ask for Congressional authorization before he takes military action.  It speaks volumes about our own dysfunctional politics that those conversations have been less about what is needed in Syria than it is has been yet another opportunity for the GOP to throw mud in the President's direction.   These days our own behavior is a cautionary tale about democracy.

In the meantime, the U.N. estimates that more than 6.5 million Syrians have been displaced.  There are thousands of Syrian refugees pouring into camps in Turkey, Jordan and Lebanon.  Innocents suffer and die while different factions in Syria maneuver for power.  The Syrian government is a threat to its own citizens.  Just as there seem to be no good choices for the Syrians, there are no good choices for American foreign policy toward Syria.  Worse yet is the reality that in the United States we have lost sight about the source of our foreign policy leadership failure, seemingly anxious to prove decisively that we are no longer fit to lead the world.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Politics edition

The backstory: It was Wednesday morning;  the first day of school for new students and my first day meeting students and parents as the Middle School Assistant Principal.  It's 7 am and I'm dressed like a grown up for the first time since mid-June.  My feet already miss their customary flip flops.  JT and I are driving to school and NPR is airing a story about the Senate Foreign Relations Committee hearing on President Obama's request for congressional authorization to bomb Syria.  I am listening to a conversation between Senator Rand Paul (R-KY) and Secretary of State John Kerry.  While I am undecided on the wisdom of bombing Syria, I am not undecided on the wisdom of Rand Paul: he's an idiot.  

Rand Paul:  Blah, blah, blah….(unrelentingly critical of the Obama Administration with nary a clue as to what is actually happening in Syria, asserting wildly ridiculous notions with no trace of an interest in the facts).

Me:  Seriously?  You are an asshole.  And you're stupid.

JT (in the reasoned voice one uses to calm the insane):  Is this how it's gonna go today, Mama?

The day went quite nicely, thank you.

Your Weekly Bouquet

This week's weekly bouquet is actually in the form of bouquets.  I have a happy abundance of flowers, so I made a bouquet for my table and another for the windowsill in my kitchen.

Then I made some posies of roses and zinnias that I placed in some fruit jars that T recycled my way.  

The posies came to school with me.  One made its home on my desk and the other was handed to the Middle School secretary, whose heroic efforts have been a terrific help as I adjust to my new job.

Fresh flowers make everything lovely and add a nice bit of happy to my day.

In the Stillness and the Hope

New students arrive at school today and I thought of them as I took in the morning's stillness.  I am an early riser once school starts, awakening just after 5:30 am.  The sun is rising later and later these days and so there was just a faint line of light at the horizon as a I drank my coffee, breathed in the quiet chirp of the birds, and embraced the peace.

Then I heard a neighbor's alarm clock ring.  Second later, a roaring plane flew overhead.  The spell was broken.  I stepped back inside and poured a second cup of coffee to hear news of Congress squabbling and Syrian refugees pouring into the Jordanian desert.  In just a few hours, I will meet nervous new Middle Schoolers and their anxious parents.  The real world seems to offer the persistent risk that the brief quiet peace of my morning will be quickly lost in the shuffle.

My plan for this school year is to embrace at least a few moments of the morning's quiet promise every day.  I will breathe in the air as the light comes to the horizon and hold on to the stillness as I face the day's turbulent adolescent challenge.  I will be grateful for my multiple blessings and walk back into the world prepared to live in hope.

Happy Labor Day, Y'all!

It's Labor Day and y'all should sit back and relax.  That's what T and JT are about today. 

September 1st: Front Yard Flowerbed

I confess that I find it terribly hard to believe that September 1st is already upon us.  This summer has passed more quickly than I expected and I find myself faced with the reality that leisurely, telexed hours are over.  From a foliage point of view, the backyard dogwood issued a warning a few weeks back, in the form of leaves beginning to turn for the fall.

In the front yard, things are still looking rather lush.

But a quick walk around town reveals other signs of leaves already beginning to change.  In the past month, we've had a few evenings with temperatures in the 50s; more are certainly on the way.  I've hopes that my dahlia will bloom before that happens.

In the meantime, the black-eyed-susans are still prepared to do their part to celebrate the last few weeks of summer.

We've had so much rain this summer that I am still cutting the grass every week.  That I enjoy this garden chore is therefore a very good thing, because I'm nearly always overdue when I get to it (as is the case today).

School will start within the week and the garden will necessarily command less of my time.  But  these plants and garden planning never command less of my interest.  That makes the seasonal change a welcome development, as I turn my attention to preparing the garden for fall.