Icy Hot

It's hot.  Hell-hot. Africa-hot. Hotter than a cat's ass (this is T's phrase and I rather like it).  The point is,  it's sweltering around here.  But no matter, as we've got our California fridge all fired up and ready to ice us down. 

The boy is ready to serve you an icy drink, should you need one.

Ten Other Things

Adam Serwer at Mother Jones has a terrific article with a listing of the big changes that will come about thanks to the Affordable Care Act.  Some of the reforms were immediately available, others will be fully adapted by 2014.  Individually, most of them are popular with Americans, though plenty of us still don't like Obamacare.  Liberals needs to start talking about these individual changes and explaining, over and over again that this is Obamacare.

Supremely Pleased

Yesterday, I got ready to write a post for today's Supreme Court ruling on the Affordable Care Act, and I sat before my computer with quiet fingers.  My heart hoped that the Court, the last institution of the federal government to enjoy the confidence of a majority of Americans, would do the right thing.  For me, the right thing was recognition of the constitutionality of the Affordable Care Act.  There were two paths to that conclusion and both looked good to me.  The first path meant recognition that Congress had the power to mandate the purchase of healthcare because of the commerce clause.  The second entailed affirmation that the Congressional power to tax is clearly constitutional and that the mandate wasn't a mandate so much as a fine (or tax) on those who fail to purchase healthcare coverage.  Either way, we get a lot closer to healthcare for everyone in this nation and that is a desirable goal, even if the logistics to get there are mighty confounding.

And yet, Justice Roberts has invariably been such a disappointment to me that I had little hope he would side with Justices Breyer, Ginsburg, Kagan, and Sotomayor.  Though I have great respect for Justice Kennedy, the usual swing vote on the Court, I was convinced that his long-established preference for state's rights would be essential in this case and not good news for ACA.  I had no expectation that the triumvirate of Justices Scalia, Alito, and Thomas would be the least bit helpful.  These men would've sided with the Confederacy on questions of state's rights.  They weren't about to affirm the ACA on any grounds.  So I had to pin my hopes on Roberts and by golly, that was nerve-wracking.

I did a lot of re-reading yesterday, including a good deal of the oral arguments from the case.  I recalled Justice Ginsburg's cryptic statement a few weeks ago, when she said that the pundits had no idea what the Court planned to do.  I took hope from that.   But I went to bed last night still confused.  This morning, as we came down to the wire, I tweeted what my gut told me: the Court would rule ACA constitutional.   Then I waited with my fingers and toes crossed.  Seconds after the opinion came down, I gave my dad a call.  He was watching CNN screw it up, so I got to tell him that ACA was upheld.  And we were both emotional, which pretty much says it all.

I was raised by the kind of good, old-fashioned liberals who believe that they have an obligation to make the world a better place.  In his dotage retirement, my dad spends a good deal of time working at the local senior center helping the elderly poor to get access to decent healthcare and the prescription drugs they need.  That's an expensive prospect in this nation, even with Medicare, and helping little old ladies find a way to live on $800 a month has turned my dad into a radical.  He's not voting for himself when he casts a ballot, he's voting for the poor, the underprivileged, the folks who have been let down by society.  He wants universal healthcare (so do I) and he hopes that ACA gets us on that road. 

Voting outside your own narrow interests is an important thing; the very definition of a just citizen.  Today, Justice Roberts recognized that.  And I am supremely thankful.

Vocabulary with T: Crazytown

Since January, I've written a monthly feature of T's words, some of which are made up. Others are words she uses in her own charming way.  This month's word is part dictionary, part made-up, and 100% useful.  The word: crazytown.

Crazytown is either a destination or a location.  As in, you've crossed the line of reason and are now in crazytown.  You got there by doing or saying something ridiculous and irrational.  Perhaps some examples will help?

Everything uttered by Republican Eric Cantor, House Majority Whip, is coo-coo le crazy, thus we can be confident that he represents crazytown in Congress.  The current GOP mantra that Obama's immigration executive order will keep real immigration reform from happening is also an utterance straight out of downtown crazytown.  Those clowns weren't willing to talk immigration before Obama took action and since he took action, they remain unwilling.  Maybe because they live in crazytown?  Like everything else, I have no idea what the Supreme Court will say about healthcare tomorrow.  But I do know that Scalia, Alito, and Thomas live on a cul-de-sac in crazytown.

I trust you get the picture.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Calling it as He Sees it edition

The backstory:  Last week, JT and I were driving a rather winding road when a car made a left turn into the lane in front of me, causing me to hit the brakes rather quickly.  The car had a license plate which read "I Read."

JT: Well I don't know what you read, but it's not the rules of the road, is it?

Internet, my work here is done.

Flower Update

The daffodils, tulips, and iris are long gone.  The clematis is no longer news.  The zinnias aren't yet ready to produce bouquets for the house.  But there's no call to worry, because the stargazer lilies look lovely.

The hydrangea display is looking to be quite impressive. 

And the canna bulbs are coming along nicely.

That's happy!

Mano e Mano

On Wednesday afternoon, I took a stroll out to the garden to visit my growing produce and discovered that nearly all of my ripening apples and pears were gone from the trees.

Possum.

Picture me, standing in the middle of the yard, shaking my fist to the heavens and shouting "possum."  Because that's how it played out.

A have-a-heart trap has been ordered but won't arrive for a few days.  In the meantime, I have undertaken emergency measures to protect the rest of my produce. 

The hot pepper spray is the usual granola-girl, organically minded solution.  The fox urine is also claims to be organic, though I have no earthly idea how the hell the fox's urine was collected.  For $5, I don't care.  The wine is for me, the stressed out gardener.

I'm not sure this animal control arsenal will be sufficient.  I will also leave a backyard motion sensor light on all night long to see if that scares the little fucker.  Then the trap will arrive and I will either catch my arm in it or promptly catch every stray cat and sweet bunny in the hood.  Worse yet?  I'll catch the possum and feel bad about it.

Updates as warranted.

Favorite Places: Jockey Hollow

T and I had our first date at a place called Jockey Hollow.  The park, which is on the spine of the Watchung Mountains in New Jersey, was the site of George Washington's winter encampment in 1779, during the American Revolution. 

These days, it's a little preserve of woods and trails, with a colonial-era garden thrown in for good measure.  It's long been one of my favorite places in New Jersey and it turns out that T has always loved it as well.  A few weeks back, we headed back to the scene of the first date crime, to walk through the colonial garden, hold hands, and generally laugh at how nervous we both were on the day of our first date.

When we saw this bed, T pointed out that it really is an 1800 mattress. It didn't look as comfy as my new bed.

We strolled out to the apple trees (and this time, I got a kiss under the shade of the trees) and got ourselves a National Parks passport.  We've plans to visit a lot more places together.  That's happy.

Not. Cool.

 I trust I needn't say more.

Well Read

Thanks to T's help, this year's garden was in the ground in mid-April.  But for the fact that I jumped the gun with the zinnia seeds (they prefer more warmth than our early spring could deliver), it was a successful strategy.  We've got peas and tomatoes well on their way to ripening.  I've picked chives and basil for cooking.  The artichoke, peppers, lima beans, and blueberry bush are looking great.  Four extra packets of zinnia seeds later, I'm even looking forward to some cut flowers.  The only downside to the early planting was the extra weeding required.  Thanks to the warm, wet spring, the plants weren't the only things that grew like gangbusters.

I usually cope with weeds by laying down newspapers and mulch.  However, it takes planning and a few hours to get the job done and there just wasn't enough time to do that in May.  With the arrival of summer vacation, mulching the garden was a priority.  Sunday afternoon, T helped me to get the mulch and set the bags into place for the work ahead.

On Monday afternoon, in advance of the hell-hot heatwave we are currently sweating through, I got the mulch on the ground.  As usual, I cleared out the weeds, spread newspapers between the plants, and then laid out a thick layer of wood mulch to control the weeds and help the plants survive the hot weather.

I took great care to protect my tiny zinnia seedlings, of course.

I've got my eyes on a rosebush and few more herbs for the garden and there is some space to plant them.  In the meantime, when I take my daily walk out to check on my plants, I'll be happy to see the tidy, ordered garden.