Steamy

Historic volumes of rain here this month. And the garden is green and muddy. I got out and turned the compost this morning, and it was finally hot and steaming in the middle, recreating nicely. Which seemed an apt metaphor.

Out of the most reviled and repellant stuff comes the most fertile soil, the best tasting food, the loveliest flowers. Out of our current troubles arise potent voices for justice and truth.

Took Moby out, but Spike & Mike spooked him. After they passed by, I picked up Moby and put him, complaining, into a patch of long grass. He hrumphed, but stayed, ate grass, sat, horked, then I brought him in. He's definitely got some vision issues, making him timid outside, much as he still wants to go out, still enjoys it once settled.



Got my Golden Celebration roses! Planted Wednesday. Not much to look at right now, of course. Covered by straw, a few sticks in the mud.



This afternoon, I march For SCIENCE! with a chemical engineer, me in my OR scrubs, to shout for honest data, transparency, truth. Along with a host of others. Taking to the streets is a long used, and often effective way to be heard by those who would prefer not to. Has worked against tyrants before, not 100%, but then it's often a matter of dosage. The world is changing, and the dam(n)s try to stop it, steal, cheat and deny. Because the world will change anyway.

Our game group played last night. Julie of our Solar panels brought us a sprig of rosemary from her garden, she was driving by. Cats were social. All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.