Everything sublime is as difficult as it is rare. Baruch Spinoza

Monday, June 20, 2011


Not in space, but rather in my little patch of earth called home. I have lost my voice, I have lost heart and I have lost drive. So I stay silent, as a person dwelling in the land of malaise is a person to be avoided, unless one is looking to become depressed and miserable.

Therefore, I have devoted my time and limited energy to my flowers, my dogs, horses and Mark; I think in this order. The iris are spent, the peonies pummeled into submission by unrelenting rain, the roses coming into their glory despite the weather. They have given me an excuse to stop in and say hello and sorry. Sorry I have not been more considerate, that I am not visiting and conversing with the few of you who are my friends. My reasoning is, my negative energy spills forth, whether intended or not, and I am unwilling to inflict it upon any of you.

The bright spot in my life is our former governor, Tim Pawlenty, falling flat on his miserable face as he attempts to play in the big leagues of presidential politics! Our other escapee from the asylum, Michelle Bachman, continues to make me shameful of the people in her district who endorse her with their vote. When did mean, vitriolic and uninformed become a virtue to be honored?

So, as the state of our Union makes my head ache and the state of Minnesota prepares for a government shutdown in two weeks, I will smell the roses and reach for the bottle of wine. And continue to resist the urge to whine to the universe.

Without further ado, the flowers of the gardens, which fill my house with heavenly scent and my heart with a much needed joy.