Water

Every day this summer, since 31.May, I have emptied my small dehumidifier in the basement THREE times a day. Its capacity is 2.5 gallons.
So for 117 days, I've emptied 7.5 gallons a day; total: 877.5 gallons of water. Where does it all come from? ...and where does it go?

Notes from the Laundry Room

It was years ago when I made the rule, "What the laundry lady finds, she keeps."

I had just washed a frog, and dried him, too, from a jeans pocket. Alas. He was dead.

I never mentioned him, until now. I made the rule so that everyone would worry about losing their money, and clean out their own pockets before throwing their clothing in the hamper. Maybe that way, they'd keep their frogs to themselves.

I never came across another frog, but I have washed lots of money. Hairbows, gummy worms, bubble gum, personal notes, matchbox cars, small dolls. DH is famous for leaving a Sharpie in the long, narrow pocket at the knee of his bib overalls. Last night I handed him an adjustable wrench and said, "Here. I washed it for you."

So when I found a $10 bill this morning, it was a great surprise. It's pretty likely that it was my own $10 to start with. But - just the chance that I scored an extra 10 from someone else, makes me smile.

A Simple Life

In a small house. Beans, and rice, and vegetables from the garden. A kitchen table beside a large window that overlooks the stream. A dog at my feet and a cat who comes in and goes out as if she were a person with a schedule.

Books, and music. Well-worn floors and a rug or two. A good fireplace. A good quilt.

No TV. And a black telephone that sits up high, with a heavy receiver and a coiled cord.

Campaigning is HARD Work

The first meeting was at 7am and I have been on the go since!

Just got home for the day -- and have to sell tickets at the ball game @ 6pm. :)

But it's been an amazing day --
Planning Board committee first thing,
then zoomed to Fireman's Memorial,
then appointments for ads.
Lunch with a supporter,
followed by coffee with another (a former mayor); OOPS! coffeehouse was out of campaign cards!
then picked up materials at the printer,
dropped by office supply,
scooped up LO to have eyebrows done,
dropped off more campaign cards by coffeehouse,
then HOME sweet HOME!

My Cat Walks on the Sidewalk

...but he walks right across my sleeping body as if I weren't even there.

Flintstones > Jetsons

DH and I sat on our newly-waxed porch this evening and discussed the movie we watched last night.
"Did you notice the parallels in their lives?" I asked.
Both embarked on food as a release. Both had adoring husbands. Both husbands suggested the Js' media: Paul suggested TV to Julia; Eric suggested blogging to Julie. Both Julie and Julia moaned, "They HATE me!" when faced with rejection. Both husbands listened rationally and explained what was actually happening.
Later I asked DH what his favorite cartoon was when he was a boy. The question was on a Facebook quiz and I wondered what his favorite was. He was unprepared to answer. "Hmm," he said. "I liked Tom & Jerry..."
Me, I was ready. First, when I was little, I loved Yogi Bear. As I got older, I really liked the Jetsons. At age 8 or 9, close to the end of my cartoon times, I liked The Archies. Sang their songs all week at Girl Scout camp that summer.
"Did you ever notice the parallels between the Flintstones and the Jetsons?" I asked. They were the same, just at opposite ends of history.
Yes, he said, but the Jetsons did not have neighbors like Barney and Betty. I like it when we have these sophisticated conversations!

Weather= Mood

So it is a totally gray, still, day. Temp: 83. Humidity: 99%. Not kidding.

I checked the weather website before waxing the outside edge of the front porch this morning. It promised me the chance of rain is only 10% all day long. Yet, I doubt. I waxed on faith, but I doubt.

All of us are droopy. Cats, dog, me. I took my Energy Drink, outside on the lovely, waxed porch, even. Did 45 minutes on the treadmill. Woopee. Still droopy. I think even the birds are droopy; they have not sung all morning.

Oh. I think I'll go put a sign on the porch just in case the mailman comes early. I'd hate for him to slip and mail goes everywhere....

Julie & Julia

DH and I went to see this movie tonight. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. IF you are a foodie, or a Julia buff, or a writer, or a woman. Or a guy who secretly loves Julia (as does my dear DH.) And who can't love some Nora Ephron? She is actually the only screenwriter/director/producer I pay attention to.

The movie (and the book) are about cooking. And aspirations. And BLOGGING. Which is why I am here.

I haven't blogged in so long, my website-filler-inner did not even fill in the words. It has never done that before.

So, yes, I am running for public office. And have a high-schooler who has extra activities every evening but Tuesday. And I'm terrifically busy. Running a campaign and vacuuming pounds of cat hair. Hey! This weekend I stripped and waxed the front porch. For two days. After campaigning AND working the homeless shelter. Whew.

But too busy to BLOG? I should be flogged.

Teensy little writing joke there.

I actually liked the movie, Julie & Julia better than the book, which I have almost never done! but I think it is because it offered insights into Julia's life as well. The movie was a melange of Julie Powell's book by the same name, and Julia Child's book, My Life in France.

So, after countless promises and commitments, to you, dear reader, and to myself, I pledge to blog. No matter how inane, how mundane, how insane, or profane. I. Will. Blog.

Til tomorrow.

63 Days til Election

With only 63 days to election, and only a week to Labor Day, things are heating up in the Blackwell household!

Although we filed for office in July, the campaign "proper" doesn't start in earnest until Labor Day, which is only a week away. Yikes! Here we go! I have that feeling you get at the start of a major roller coaster. What is in store for me on this ride?

In a town where the incumbents rarely have opposition, we have one encumbent stepping down, and a hearty field of 9 new candidates jockeying for his place. Yet the whole council could be ousted, as our local election is "at large," with the top five vote-getters being elected to council. Once elected, the new council appoints the mayor and mayor pro-tem. By tradition, but not by law, they select the person with the most votes for mayor and #2 for mayor pro-tem. But this tradition has never been broken. With a total of 13 candidates for 5 positions, it does indeed promise to be a wild ride.

I've already been overwhelmed by generous donors. By patient mentors. By encouraging friends, and encouraging strangers, who, oddly, know my name but I don't know them.

I've met neighborhood leaders, pastors, police officers, teachers, retired folks, and young folks.

I've attended conferences, meetings, committees, and neighborhood groups -- all in an effort to educate myself on the issues facing every corner of the city..

Some issues I hear over and over. Some are particular to one case or another. What I have learned is that folks are passionate about their city, and they all are eager to talk about it.

If you haven't dropped by my campaign website, take a minute to do so: www.MaggieBlackwellforCouncil.com. It's going to be a wild ride!

Thinking Deep Thoughts...

Well, I have gone and done it again, or should I say, NOT done it again. Too, too much time has passed since my last posting.

After years of intermittent checking on the website, I finally subscribed to The Writer's Almanac, a delightful daily brief written by Garrison Keillor.

I have listened faithfully to Keillor on Saturday nights for about 30 years. He is a tender spirit, a gracious man, and an excellent writer. Although, I must say he must not be the best husband, as he seems to have a string of ex-wives in his wake.

In the mornings I let the doggie out for a tinkle, wind all the clocks, pour my coffee, and then curl up in front of the PC to check my email.

Having only subscribed a few weeks ago, I am still a little surprised every morning when I see the email from them. "Oh!" and I anxiously click on it. I am never disappointed.

Reading The Writer's Almanac is a little like a vacation from the world. He takes me into a world of great people who wrote great things. Or of tragic people who wrote tragic things. Or of painters or scientists with great imaginations. He always includes some little-known fact about them and some trauma or joy or idiosyncracy.

The entire trip takes me about 2 minutes and I feel more literate, more in touch with people who wrote well and accomplished great things.

Here are some things I learned recently:

Alexis de Tocqueville was only 25 when he visited America. His first book was a collaboration with Gustave de Beaumont, whose work was not quite as successful as de Tocqueville's. Their book explored our prison system in the early 19th century, gee, I know nothing about that -- I wonder what they were like? ... and then returned back to Britain to continue to write about the States. Beaumont wrote about slavery and our hypocrisy, Land of the Free vs. slaves, and de Tocqueville wrote about, well, about everything American. At one time, he said,

"An American will build a house in which to pass his old age and sell it before
the roof is on; he will plant a garden and rent it just as the trees are coming
into bearing … he will take up a profession and leave it, settle in one place
and soon go off elsewhere."

And I just about believe he was right. I am trying not to be such a Now Girl.

Lawrence Raab wrote an achingly poignant poem about Ralph Waldo Emerson, who apparently suffered from Alzheimer's in his later years. The poem is entitled, "A Friend's Umbrella," and is definitely worth the time. It appeared in TWA on Wednesday, 29.July.2009.

Astronomer Maria Mitchell discovered a comet in 1847. She was a professor of astronomy at Vassar College. She wrote, "The more we see, the more we are capable of seeing." Take this thought out of astronomy and to the philosphic realm, and it makes perfect sense. The more insight you use into what people are really saying and thinking, the more you can see. It makes perfect sense to me. I wonder which way she really meant it?

And Francis Scott Key, whose birthday is today, wrote a beautiful, and sadly optimistic verse of the national anthem which we never sing:

"And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wiped out their foul footstep's pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. "

Please visit the site and subscribe for yourself. --OR-- you can subscribe to the podcast and listen to Keillor read it for you himself, in his deep and doleful voice. As I said earlier, I am never disappointed.