Red 'n Shiny: Part 2

Hey! there's our truck! Also shiny and red... but not so new as that spiffy lawn mower. This is the BAD part of the story. (Although the truck is shinier than usual because Bob carefully hand washed it before our trip.)
Bob needed to go to Vermont to install two sculptures; one at the North Bennington Outdoor Sculpture Show (or NBOSS google it) and another at the Bennington Museum. Despite COVID 19 throwing monkey wrenches into travel plans (like not being able to stay at the motel we typically stay at due to our hailing from a "restricted" part of Connecticut), we decided to go up for the day. Just an efficient whirlwind tour up Route 7, drop the sculptures, maybe eat some lunch and motor home. There are people we like to spend time with in Vermont and other attractions we like to visit (like MassMoca) but many are closed and humans are socially distancing. So it was going to be a no-frills sculpture install.
I drove us up as Bob is The Maestro and I wanted him relaxed and fresh for moving his sculptures. The truck ran like a top and deposited us in front of the North Bennington railroad station, where Bob's entry into last year's show was placed. Bob dismantled his (old) sculpture, unloaded his new sculpture and was going to move the truck across the street... when it wouldn't start. No noise, no nuthin'- just silence. While attempting to maintain a semblance of rationality (and inside screaming, "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! How can this be happening?!?!?!"), Bob called AAA and tried to read off a 15 digit number and explain what was up with our truck while a huge freight train rumbled past (great timing! Lots of railway crossing clanging and that long lonesome wail of the train's whistle). I meanwhile jiggled some wires and Hey presto! The truck turned over and we drove it across the street to the new location for Bob's new sculpture. (*2)
At this point, we were still awaiting AAA. Bob had the sculpture to install and our friend Andy (another sculptor from Connecticut, also in the show) arrived and between him and Joe (the curator of the show and a big fan of Bob's) they made quick work of setting up Bob's piece. I bought lunch somehow hoping that refueling us would magically cure the truck, or at least temporarily lift our flagging spirits.
AAA arrived and pronounced our starter a non-starter but managed to pop the clutch and get the truck started after Andy and Bob pushed the truck with the AAA guy driving (*1). The AAA man helpfully told us, "Don't turn it off. Just keep it running." I'm thinking, "Let's just get in the truck and fucking drive home..." but Bob had yet to load the old sculpture and install the one at the museum. I for one was not having a good day.
But we did eat lunch and Andy and Joe graciously suggested that THEY would take Bob's sculpture to the Museum and install it (apparently that show was on a hill in a field behind the museum. There was no way we were going to drive up there, risk stalling the truck and have to call AAA to some outlandish hillside pasture location). So good friends to the rescue! Three cheers for fellow sculptors!
I told Bob that I'd drive home, thinking that my nerves were so bloody frayed that at least driving would focus me and maybe I wouldn't completely melt down.
Long story short is that we made it. We didn't stop for anything (luckily, we needed neither gas nor a bathroom break) but I didn't breathe easy until we turned into our driveway. The truck is now at the garage for repairs. Guess what? The truck started on the first try this morning so it's probably not the starter, but a wire or connection. Hahahahaaha!
And if you're squeamish, skip the picture below, because it's not just lawn mowers and trucks that are red and shiny. How about my festering flesh?

Yuck! I look like the village leper but I guess it serves me right for "playing" in the poison ivy. You know me: live dangerously. (It actually looks worse than it feels.)


(*1) I myself became expert at doing this when I drove Triumphs and MGs all those years ago. This is one of the many beauties of standard shift vehicles.
(*2) The further irony here is that Bob had taken the ruck to be serviced the day before. He had had an oil change and an "all points check". Battery good, truck seemed fine and ready to go, so this wasn't some kind-of-expected "oh we should have maintained it better" episode.

Red 'n Shiny: Part 1

Look what we bought! For all kinds of reasons... primarily because our old mower was having "issues". Like not mowing well (at all!!) and being so bloody hard to push I thought I'd kill myself mowing the lawn and I actually am one of the very few remaining people who admits to LIKE mowing the lawn.(*1) So a new mower it is!
But the way we paid for the mower was another story. I would have happily used my/our bank debit card as that way it's paid for, no bill arrives in the mail and that's that. But earlier in the week, I had received a surly missive from Chase Bank stating that my credit limit was being lowered because I didn't use the card. (Which made no sense at all and I worried my credit would be "dinged".) After several wasted hours of attempting to call them ("Due to COVID 19, our call centers are staffed at lower levels..") and "visit the website" which only circled me around and around with nothing resembling what I need to know at all) I vowed to visit in person our local branch. I called to get the hours of operation and was apprised of the intelligence that due to COVID 19, this branch was only open for safe deposit boxes. I was losing it at this point and was ready to cancel the card (which would have "dinged" my credit...) but I actually reached a representative on yet another phone call. He basically informed me that because I had called, my credit limit would not be lowered (*2) and that I should USE THE CARD. Hence purchasing the mower with the Visa...
Anyway, the mower is a swell addition to our arsenal of power tools. We're keeping the old mower to do rough stuff like run over rocks and mow the horse field. We haven't had to use it yet as we had just mowed the lawn (based on Bob's Moon Calendar so as to inhibit new growth) but I'm actually anticipating a glorious, effortless experience. This new has many bells and whistles: it's self propelled and has an electric starter (no more chord pulling!) and bags and mulches and will probably sing us to sleep, too.

(*1) I realize there are all kinds of (almost) political and moral reasons for despising lawns nowadays. The main one is that so many people use lawn chemicals to attain that perfect greensward, and often the lawn is a bizarre mono-crop and unhealthy to begin with. We will never apply evil chemistry to our lawn, which remains a lovely and durable carpet of clover, dandelions, various plantains, knuckleheads, and other denizens of the so-called broad leaf weeds so reviled by turf purists. But I also remain entirely in the camp that asserts nothing sets up a garden bed better than a lovely green lawn.
(*2) These are the things that drive me crazeee. (Quoting Big Audio Dynamite (*3)). So my credit score- if lowered- could be re-raised but I'd have to under go a new credit check and that would "ding" my credit. And we all know that the credit card company is hoping that we'll use their card, carry a balance and wrack up those charming fees that make them money.
(*3) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jy44Fm-CS04&t=50s

Black Lives Matter

 I know I am in the company of many when I say how disturbing the murder of George Floyd was. The video of him saying, "I can't breathe", (echoing Eric Garner's very words from several years earlier), and the fact that three fellow officers stood by and enabled this brutal crime had sickened me and made me despair. But then to hear The Orange Menace somehow imply that, "It was a great day for George Floyd" and how George Floyd be "happy" that unemployment figures had fallen and the economy looked to be recovering made me feel crazy. I almost cried. The man was murdered...
On Sunday, I ran out to our local Stop and Shop to pick up a few items. I bought what I needed and as I exited the parking lot onto the main road, I spotted a gathering of people. I knew what was up and drove home quickly (as I had butter and several other perishable items in the car) and grabbed Bob, who was mowing the lawn.
"Quick!", I implored Bob, "There's a Black Lives Matter protest rally!" The week before there had (apparently) been one- that we missed- and it had made the local paper. I had vowed if there was another one, we'd attend.
We got there a few minutes late, having missed a brief introduction or speaker, but we took our places along the side of the road, holding up signs printed with the names of African American citizens who had been murdered by police and racist vigilantes. *(1)

(Not great pictures but the sun was really bright and I find phone photography especially challenging outdoors. And then you have to type in tiny letters...) I was so happy that Bob and I were able to stand along side fellow towns people (259 of us!!) and make a show of support for justice and change. This is a town that often votes rethuglican!
Many people passing in cars honked support and flashed fists and peace signs. There were also several tense moments where angry looking men in large trucks gunned their engines in an aggressive fashion; you had to think of previous protests where people drove cars and trucks into the crowd! But civility prevailed and several police officers even attended and offered bottles of water and thanked us for gathering (!!!). A woman standing next to us told Bob that the week before, three police cars had cruised past slowly, in an intimidating manner. I'm sure glad they changed their tone!
We will go again next week if there are further protests. It made me feel that we can do something to change the system. Hopefully, real change will finally occur.

*(1) And yes we all stood at least 6 feet apart and everyone wore masks.

Behind the Green Door

Hahhahahaa! Isn't that the name of a 1970's porn movie? (*1) Well, behind this green door there is our living room and- nothing to see here! Anyway, the picture is simply to show our attempt at a "classic" "formal" container planting by our front door as we're clearly such classic, formal individuals!
So as a complete break from the COVID 19 crisis and the newly minted crisis of The Orange Menace threatening to call in the military to squelch protesters after a million too many deaths of Black Americans at the hands of racists, I've been gardening! And making ART! Two entirely wholesome activities that help keep me from having panic attacks...(*2). I'm sure I have company in alternately despairing over the violence and hatred in this country and trying to avoid the news altogether.
So here are some recent wholesome activity updates:

Here's a view of the newly weeded and resurrected Blue Garden. This are was so full of escaped run-amok Blue Lyme Grass (elymus arenarius to those with a penchant for Latin) which does tend towards being an aggressive- but attractive!- grass. I dug up about three hundred cubic miles of the stuff and re-planted it in two metal surrounds. Hopefully, I can enjoy its powdery blueness while controlling its zeal to conquer. I also planted two more sky blue truly beautiful Delphinium; a close up please!

And that color is accurate. I am holding off planting the deep purple Delphinium here as we're still enjoying its company on the terrace in a pot. The Blue Garden is an endlessly entertaining exercise in pigment restraint; so few flowers are really blue. Most tend towards a smudgy off-lavendar kind of shade. As most of you will notice that I tend to be pretty rampant in my color interactions in other parts of the garden. In general, I like a lot of color.
But what else did I rip out beside Blue Lyme Grass? This bed was (and parts still are!) totally overrun with poison ivy. The bane of my gardening existence! Here's a lovely shot of what I'm up against:

Weaving its evil way through everything. I carefully donned dirty clothes, latex gloves and tall boots and commenced to rip it out. Then I stuffed it all in a trash bag and left it to rot. I carefully peeled all my clothes off, jettisoned them to the washing machine and scrubbed my hands, wrist and face (as I knew I touched it) with Dawn dish soap. It was interesting because I think the poison ivy juices that contacted my face wanted to erupt, but couldn't so my face felt "funny" for a day and then nothing happened. But look at knee where I had a tear in my pants:

I got a minor case there! I wish I had thought to wash my knee. But I'll live and I did remove most of that noxious weed. Not bad for a day's digging.





(*1) Yup! A "classic" of the kind (apparently).
(*2) And no, I am not denying the awfulness of what is occurring. You know me: I have three pieces going in my studio- directly in response to The Orange Menace and his evil ways! The newest one is "Human Scum", inspired by his description of Never Trumper Republicans. Really?