Resistance

Aug. 15th, 2025 03:02 pm
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When I lived in Belgium in my late teens, we were thirty years removed from WWII. Belgium had surrendered before any shots were fired on them, something many older Belgians hated, so they were never the battleground as they had been during WWI. In some ways, WWI had a greater impact on the Brussels that I knew.

Having said that, I met one of Dad's Dutch colleagues who had run errands for the Dutch resistance when he was approximately 11-16. He lived through the famine the Germans helped create by eating tulip bulbs as so many of them did. As many of them did, he died in his early 60s of stomach cancer. There's no proof that the bulbs led to the cancer, but it is a specific cluster.

The Baroness who lived downstairs from us was a full grown woman when the war hit. Her husband (he had some form of senile dementia which made him difficult to talk to, mostly because he spoke nine languages and would drift from one to the other.) was the Belgian ambassador to Germany when the war hit. Previously, he'd been the ambassador to Greece and Spain. Greece wasn't accessible. Spain was. She walked with nine children from Belgium to Spain, helped by people she met on the way. One of the children didn't survive it. But that indomitable woman walked with 8 children across the Pyrenees so that her family couldn't be used to make her husband participate in anti-allied propaganda.

The concierge's husband said, in passing, that working with the resistance in Belgium, was much more fun than school for him, shrugging off the contributions he'd made before he turned 18.

The janitor who went to our school was put into hiding by his parents because they were Jewish. Toward the end of the war he helped get food to people being held in the transit camp near him. There was some cutting wires and getting people out, not many, not often. But he found a way to do something with his local resistance. He lost both parents to the camps.

I'm saying this because people are despairing about what's going on in the U.S., worried that there's no grand general organizing us against our current government. Honestly, if you're not part of the military, there is rarely one leader to get behind to walk us, like Moses, to our promised land.

If you want the equivalent to the DeGaulles and the Queen of the Netherlands -- both in exile, both under threat, both putting backbone into their people from that exile -- then listen to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Bernie Sanders, Pete Buttigieg, and Beto O'Rourke or applaud what Gavin Newsom is doing while recognizing that his stance on our trans friends is terrible.

But most of all remember that Jules, the Baroness, Guillaume, and the school janitor all found small ways to resist, to help prevent worse, to give hope to others during a long war.

Organization is great. Be part of your local Indivisible chapter if there is one (and you have the spoons for it).

But remember that the small things are helpful, too:
A) If you think you see an injustice, record and post it with as much context as you can provide.
B) Write to your Senators and Representatives at both state and federal levels and explain why what they're doing is wrong (or great, if they've done something good. Positive reinforcement won't hurt.).
C) Find out what laws they're trying to pass and be part of the public comments, especially if you think the law is wrong or overreaches governmental rights.
D) Talk to your friends and neighbors about the mid-terms and see if you can strategize to turn out the vote, keep people on the rolls, or protest any laws that might limit voting.
E) Give blood.
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I've begun writing the postcards for Postcards to Swing States. They won't be mailed until October, but I figure writing a few every day will keep my hands from cramping.

I got the wallpaper ordered for my bedroom. I hope I calculated the measurements correctly. It's only on one wall, fortunately. Quick question: should the other walls be painted to match the background color of the wallpaper? or should I pick one of the colors from the pattern?

I've opened boxes with jars for storage and gotten beans, flour, sugar, couscous, etc. off the pantry shelves. Since the pantry is tiny, it's better to have staples in jars near the stove.

I found out that I'm allowed to give blood again. I gave regularly in Belgium and the UK throughout the 1980s. When I got back to the U.S. the worry about mad cow meant I wasn't allowed to donate here. Apparently, they finally relented (in 2023, dammit) and I'm now considered safe to give. Since there's a shortage here, I'm glad I can give again. Sis, is coming with me to the appointment next week.

Other than that, I've been doing some writing.
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The Obituary at the Guardian

He was a great satirist and performer. Apparently, he was a good professor, too. At 97, it's impossible to say that Tom Lehrer was taken from us too soon -- especially since he mostly retired over 60 years ago -- but that doesn't mean that he won't be missed. While he lived, there was always a chance for one more song.







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The Guardian obituary

We didn't have any Cleo Laine albums when I grew up. Most of Dad's jazz was instrumental, though he loved Sarah Vaughn and Ella Fitzgerald.

We arrived in Brussels in 1978. We were staying at the Hotel Arcade Stephanie off the Avenue Louise. We had comfortable rooms and our weird route to Belgium (via York and Horsham) meant we were still awake even though our sponsors thought we needed to sleep off jet lag. So, like all self-respecting Americans we flipped through channels. Dad stopped when he realized there was a Cleo Laine concert on. I was fascinated by the range of her voice and the lyrics of the song being about Shakespeare's Scottish Play. I later found out it was one of a series written by her husband, Johnny Dankworth.



The whole concert was great. Bearing in mind that I was 17, I was shocked that there were mixed race British people.

Legend has it that after she had been singing with the Johnny Dankworth group (not sure if it was a trio, quartet, or quintet in the late 1940s/early 1950s) for about six months, Dankworth realized that she was hesitant about her top range. He called the group together, sans Cleo, and told them to raise the pitch of each song a half step every night. She was up by a fifth before she realized what was happening and Dankworth basically said, "Told you, you had a top range." Laine worked on it, and her voice became an amazingly versatile instrument. She's the only woman ever nominated for a Grammy in the pop, jazz, and classical categories.

In the mid-1950s, the pianist in Dankworth's group was Dudley Moore. He was an organ exhibitioner (scholarship student with an extra requirement) at Magdalen College, Oxford. He fell in love with jazz and earned his pin money with Dankworth. Years later, he did an album with Cleo Laine called "Smilin' Through" which was one of the few albums I bought while I was at University.

This is my favorite song from the album, but the whole thing is really good.




And just to prove she was a woman of great culture:

Health

Jun. 22nd, 2025 07:14 pm
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Those of you who've known me since I lived in Boston -- heck, some of you who've only known me since DC -- probably know that I get bronchitis. A lot. The only reason that I haven't been diagnosed with pneumonia since 2005 is because I've had the shots (and boosters) to prevent it.

What I haven't had -- at least according to one of my Boston doctors -- is asthma.

In the past year I've had 5 bouts of bronchitis and one of tonsilitis with coughing. This isn't good. My primary care sent me to a lung specialist and last week I got a lung function test (Google has failed me as to the actual name of the test) to ascertain whether asthma was an issue.

So. The test uses spirography (Google didn't entirely fail me). I blow into a tube. My base lung function is recorded. Then I blow into it four more times after having various levels of a drug that inhibits lung function. If you don't have asthma, you might feel a little light headed, but it won't cut down your ability to blow out into that tube by much.

I did the baseline. I did the minimal level of the drug. Then I did the second of the four levels. The technician stopped the test and said, "I'm not a doctor. I can't diagnose, but I'm pretty sure that you have asthma." She then gave me the albuterol which should help my problem before I have to drive.

Now, I was a bit surprised that they could tell so quickly, but since my eyes had darkened and I felt like I was going to faint for the first time in nearly 30 years, I was just as happy to stop.

The next morning, I had my official diagnostic meeting with the physician's assistant. The first words out of her mouth were, "I've never seen a test like this." I went from full lung function with none of the drug, to about 95% lung function with the first dose of the inhaled drug. On the second round, I dropped to just under 40% lung function. Apparently, the 40% isn't that rare with the fourth round. It's why you're given albuterol to help you breathe before you're allowed to leave. But dropping that far that quickly is rare.

I'm on a drug called Trelegy which tastes bad, can give me mouth thrush, and makes me feel worse. I haven't had a serious cough since March or April, and that wasn't bad enough to go to the doctor. Since I've been on the new drug, I've been coughing like it's an Olympic sport. It's great for my abs, but the rest of me hurts.

I plan to contact the doctor's office tomorrow to find out whether this is normal in the first week or so of taking the drug. But I started this on Friday. It's Sunday, and I feel worse than I have since my last bout of bronchitis.

Keep your fingers crossed.
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I spent two days in Richmond earlier this month. My sister's friend, with whom we stayed, watched the local news which was a different perspective from Georgia.

There was one brief interview with someone who said (somewhat paraphrased), "We're looking for a test case. If we can find the right test case, we can get Loving overturned and back to the states." It took an age for my jaw to come off the floor.

Look, I knew we were working to keep Obergefell the law of the land. It happened a decade ago. Loving vs Virginia is from 1967. It's the one that overturned anti-miscegnation laws.

Now I was 6 years old and from a family so white that flashbulbs can give us sunburn, but, from the time I was old enough to understand laws, that anti-miscegnation crap was taught as history. (I'm somewhat relieved that Dreamwidth's spell checker doesn't recognize the word.) Don't think this was only in the South; a mixed race friend's parents had to travel from their home in New Jersey to Michigan to be allowed to marry. New Jersey would recognize marriages from other states under "full faith and credit" but wouldn't allow it there.

I have too many friends and acquaintances who could be harmed by these laws. When we protest for freedom to marry for everyone, remember that it's not just the LGBTQIA+ community who is at risk.

When I set my calendar this year, I could have sworn it was for 2025, not 1925.
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1. I am so sorry to hear about Brian Wilson's death. I found out about the Beach Boys at summer camp in the 1970s. [You can do the Virginia Reel to Help Me Rhonda.]

2. I am planning to go to my local "No Kings" protest on Saturday. I'm a little peeved that they scheduled it for the heat of the day. SPF 70, a hat, and a soaker scarf are my friends.

3. I went to Richmond, VA with my sister on Thursday. I flew back on Saturday, and she'll drive back today.

The Frida Kahlo exhibit at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts was pretty good. She'll never be my favorite artist, but having a context to frame her work is very helpful.

I had forgotten what a good small city museum the VMFA is. It has a very famous Mary Cassatt, a collection of Faberge objects which includes several Imperial Easter eggs and silver service as well as jewelry, Egyptian Rooms and a nice (small) sample of Roman Art. I fell in love with a Childe Hassam painting that's unlike most of his work.

Sis and her friend, whom she visits yearly, agreed to go out to Perley's for Jewish Deli food. The matzoh ball soup was some of the best I've ever tasted and the potato latkes had an apricot/apple sauce that tasted great with them, plus some scallion sour cream. They also have house made syrups for sodas, and I can attest that the apricot wasn't too sweet and was very refreshing.

Flying home was a bit of an ordeal. My plane took off on time, 4:15 pm and was supposed to land in Atlanta 1.5 hours later. The pilot attempted to land when cleared, but the turbulence was so bad that he had to pull up. I held the hand of the woman next to me to help calm her down. I've been on roller coasters with less dropping.

We went to Augusta to refuel which took two hours because there were other planes ahead of us. Just as we were about to take off, the storm which had inundated Atlanta hit Augusta. It was another hour before it subsided. By the time we landed in Atlanta most of the food court had shut down for the night, so I was very hungry.

Fortunately, my plane to Savannah had been delayed. It was supposed to take off at 8:18. We were finally allowed to board at 11:20.

In Savannah, I had to try 4 taxi companies before I found one who had a driver willing to pick-up at the airport. I got home at 2 a.m. Not my best flight ever.

Dogs

May. 27th, 2025 11:24 pm
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Nicky and Nora are litter mates. If she had opposable thumbs, Nora would already have taken over the world.

Nicky seems more like a genial surfer dude. But thunder scares him. He also is a very smart dog and has worked out that the safest places from thunder are either the floor of Sis's shower or in the guest bathtub.

Tonight, we were watching tv when an unexpected thunderstorm hit. I heard some noise, and recognized that it was Nick getting into the tub. Bedtime came and Nora goes trotting after Sis, but Nicky has found safety and won't leave it.

The lad will have to put up with my late night visits to the bathroom, which gives me a chance to check on him. But it's still a bit disturbing to suddenly see eyes peering out of the tub.
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On our drive from Toulouse to our first hotel, bunny rabbits came running out of a field to our right. There were more than 20. I came to a full stop and just let them keep running to their hutch to our left. It was amazing, and I'm so grateful that I didn't hit one.

[personal profile] neotoma being so patient pushing the car out of parking spaces. Bless.

Every single meal, but especially the confit de canard and iles flottant of our first night.

It's not my favorite Paris land mark, but seeing the Eiffel Tower so closely was amazing.

The feeling of relief I felt when I realized Notre Dame would be fine.

Having hazelnut/chocolate ice cream from Berthillon.

Get complimented on my French.

Getting to use my little bit of Dutch, briefly.

Now, I know I haven't written much about Iceland -- which was starkly beautiful -- but that's because I managed to slip in the bathtub and sprain my ankle badly enough that I couldn't walk around Reykjavik with [personal profile] neotoma. The bruise on the opposite inner thigh is just now fading.

I do want to go back to Reykjavik at some point. It was stunning.
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It is impossible to go into the caves at Lascaux -- and that's been true since 1963 -- but they have created substitutes over the years. Lascaux IV is the most comprehensive, and it's brilliant.

We decided to go at noon because that was when we could go at our own pace. There were two English language tours in the morning (and two in the afternoon) where we would have had to stay with the group. By arriving at lunchtime, we could get headsets.

The very first area in the cave replica, it talked about a bull to my left. I saw horses, which were also mentioned, but no bull. Then I took a step back and realized that the bull was huge. It was so big (probably 2.5' by just under 4') that my eye rejected it for the smaller horses.

The whole thing was beautiful. The layout got a little claustrophobic, especially with the cane, but I was so glad that I got to see it in context.

There was a room which allowed us to interact with parts of the exhibits in isolation, showing us incised sections that we may have missed or details that don't stand out when it's so far above you.

Before we left we had a cheese plate and a crepe, then went back to the car.

Now this whole "Fabi can't find reverse" meant that [personal profile] neotoma had been helping me out of spots by pushing the car while I had it in neutral and steered. This didn't work once we hit a barred route on our way back -- no suggested detour sign -- and ended up on driveways. We ended up stuck at one house for about half an hour before we made ourselves heard. The gentleman there backed the car up and gave us a better idea of how to get back to where we needed to be (I'd made a reservation at another hotel well in advance including a dinner reservation at the bistro). He also tried to show me what I needed to do to find reverse, but I misunderstood the directions. Also, bless him, he told me I had a very good accent when speaking French. On a wearying afternoon, the compliment meant everything to me.

Two or three towns later, I missed a turn. This time an old man -- probably my age, but we never really see ourselves as old -- called his son who spoke English. They helped us get out of their driveway and back on the correct road, and this time when I was shown how to get the car into reverse, it clicked.

We had a nice evening in a room at the top of a flight of steep stairs, and the dinner at the bistro was nice. There were also some very well behaved dogs at the bistro.

The following morning, after a good buffet breakfast, the woman at the front desk helped us find our way to the autoroute. She wrote down the name of each town we needed where a shift from country road D2 to country road D734 (or whatever the actual route numbers were) would take place. There must have been 8 names. This was where [personal profile] neotoma and I cheered when we found a country road wide enough that there were lines painted on it. I still wasn't going anywhere near 80 kph.

We found the autoroute -- which was a toll road (we took it and prayed it took credit card) -- and spent most of the rest of the drive doing 130 kph (~80 mph). We made it to Toulouse in time for our train to Narbonne. After that we took the "poor man's TGV" back to Paris. They announced when we were going to our top speed of 320 kph (~199 mph), and the countryside passed by swiftly.
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[personal profile] neotoma and I got up early on the Wednesday, found a way to extract our tickets from the kiosks and went from Paris Montparnasse to Toulouse Matabiau. Once there we picked up our very small car.

It took a few minutes for me to realize that I kept putting the car into third gear rather than first, but after the first hour, the fact that it had been 30+ years since I'd driven stick shift wasn't a huge problem. However, I will say that if I see one more traffic circle, I may burst into tears.

Getting out of Toulouse was one traffic circle after another. Then we hit the country roads. First of all, I would like to say that the Dordogne is every bit as beautiful as everyone says. We had glorious sunny weather as we hit the lovely vistas of plowed and planted fields with hills, forest, and poplar wind breaks everywhere we looked.

On the other hand, [personal profile] neotoma learned that I will swear at the car if it's not cooperating (see the 3rd gear vs 1st gear issue), and we both learned that the Dordogne has more hills and curves than the average roller coaster. The posted speed limit for most of it -- unless we were actually going through one of the beautiful 16th or 17th century towns -- was 80 kph (~50 mph). There was no way that I could handle any car at that speed on narrow roads with no shoulders and more curves than Marilyn Monroe. At one point on our second or third day of driving, we actually cheered because we'd finally found a road wide enough to have lane markings.

We found a decent hotel for Wednesday evening, but had some upset because the GPS on neotoma's phone still said we were 2 hours away from Lascaux. It had told us we were 2.5 hours from Lascaux when we first got in the car and we'd been driving for three hours.

The hoteliers told us we were only about 30 minutes away, which proved reasonably accurate when we left the next day. It was a great relief.

France

May. 14th, 2025 11:07 am
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[personal profile] neotoma and I spent 5 May-10 May in France. We also had 11 May in Iceland which [personal profile] neotoma got to see more of than I did. Overall, I think it was a good trip. It was certainly a needed distraction for me from a year which had way too much death in it. [personal profile] neotoma was in a similar boat, so travel seemed like a good thing.

Once I've downloaded my pictures -- I didn't take many -- I'll have a post with them in it. For right now, It's just words.

Our hotel in Paris was clean and conveniently located. We had tickets for a boat tour up the Seine and I invited my friend, Elainasaunt, who lives in Paris to join us. The Paris Metro was as convenient as ever and got us to the Trocadero stop, right by the Eiffel Tower. We were close enough to see the elevator cars do their funicular thing up the leg of the tower where we caught our boat.

After some minor kerfuffle where the boat operators conferred and decided our Expedia purchased tickets were good, we saw Elainasaunt in the distance and got on the boat. We had dressed relatively warmly (I was in a turtleneck that was heavy cotton with about 15% wool content) so chose the top deck. It was a lovely evening, nowhere near sunset and the sights of the city were clear. The music was a little loud, but Elainasaunt kept up a running commentary of what we were seeing. Once I noticed that my fingers were going a bit blue, I asked if we could go in, and the view from the lower deck wasn't as good.

After grabbing our respective metros home, [personal profile] neotoma and I searched for sustenance. There was a little square about a block from the hotel which had several restaurants. Two were very crowded cafes. Two were pizza/pasta joints which just didn't seem right in Paris, and the last one was a small bistro which said they could accommodate us.

[personal profile] neotoma had a pork roulade with mashed potatoes. I had duck confit with roasted potatoes (and the duck was perfect that evening). For dessert, the maitresse (I don't know if she owned the place, but she referred to her chef and her pastry chef, so quite possibly) let us know there was a special of floating island with pistachios. [personal profile] neotoma had never had floating island and it's my favorite dessert. There was only one portion left, but it was more than enough for us to split. It was really delicious.

We also discovered on our walk from the metro that we were pretty close to Notre Dame, so the next day we went. The lines were huge. Too big. The lines for the Sainte Chapelle were also very long. However, there were no lines to speak of for the Memorial des Martyrs de la Deportations. I highly recommend the Wikipedia page which I can't link to because the accent marks mess up the link.

This is part of a small park behind Notre Dame. It honors those, both Jewish and not, who were deported to the work camps in Germany during WWII. It's grey cement with narrow stairways in and out of it. There's one small, barred window low on one wall. Behind is a round room with lists of the camps and quotations, including "Forgive, but never Forget" over the exit door. We went upstairs and explored the two gallery rooms which had pictures, letters, and small mementos of Bergen-Belsen. In all, we spent about an hour there.

We went out to dinner with Elainasaunt again at a small bistrot on the Ile St. Louis, facing the back of Notre Dame. The dinner was very good.

We left Paris early the next morning and went to Toulouse. That saga will be covered tomorrow.

Success!

May. 9th, 2025 11:01 pm
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We are back in Paris, having gone to Toulouse and from there to Lascaux IV. The countryside was beautiful. The driving... More will be said when I am not typing with one finger.

In Paris

May. 6th, 2025 08:09 am
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We are supposed to go to la Vallee de la Vezeres tomorrow (Toulouse, then drive north to Lascaux) but there are train strikes. They're supposed to get worse through the week. *le sigh
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Siderea posted last week asking how people learned the basics of the Constitution/U.S. Government and at what age. I followed up with an email.

Now I went to 5th grade, for the second time, at a Catholic School in Arlington. We weren't Catholic, so my folks asked if Sis and I could be excused from those classes. I was allowed to go the library, and I found a series of biographies aimed at 8-12 year olds. I could read one in an hour and a half. As I got older, I realized they were mostly fiction, but based around typical things a child-teenager would do in that time frame, for their gender, for their economic status. Some things were reasonably accurate to the person, especially if they'd written an autobiography, but it was mostly best guess fiction to get kids interested in history.

Being me, I looked on Amazon to see if the series was still printed. It is. Some of the ones I read are no longer for sale except as antiques (one was going for $139), mostly the ones around the Confederacy. Many new ones have been written. There are two that I'm not certain if I read them: Jim Thorpe and Helen Keller. I know I read something about Jim Thorpe before I was in 7th grade, but I'm not certain it was this series. I know I read The Story of My Life by Helen Keller in either 5th or 6th grade, but I'm uncertain if the reason I read it was because I'd read the Childhood of Famous Americans book about her first.

I've marked people of color with an asterisk. There are more men than women, but the range of women was pretty wide.

When possible, my parents would reinforce something I'd read. For instance, they took me to see Clara Barton's house just outside of DC. Our trip to Philadelphia when I was 11-ish may have been because I'd read about so many of the participants of the Second Continental Congress.

Most of the Confederate ones seem to have quietly fallen off the modern list (Thank $deity). But there's still Robert E. Lee.

“List” )
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The list of Colleges and Universities signing onto the letter is growing. Northeastern finally made it. Boston College still hasn't signed, though I've seen many more Catholic Schools join. Many of the California UCs and State Colleges have joined, but Stanford is missing. I must admit that it being the school where so many tech bros went to learn from the inventor of the transistor, that I'm afraid Elon Musk has had influence there.

George Washington University signed which means the only consortium college missing is Howard. I really hope the HBCUs are planning their own statement.

Duke notwithstanding -- as an "other Ivy" with a pre-eminent law school, they were kind of a given -- the only two schools that I recognize as being part of the Old South, in my mind below the southern border of Virginia, are Agnes Scott College and Carolina Christian College. I'm impressed with how many Virginia schools have signed on, but still bummed that Virginia Tech, where my paternal uncle used to teach, University of Richmond and Hampton College, where my father, great aunt, and grandfather all did their undergraduate degrees, and Longwood, where Sis went for her undergrad, are not signatories. But, I'm still excited that Hollins was one of the originals. Go Great-Great-Grandma!

I don't pretend to have a comprehensive knowledge of every university or college in the country, so if anyone recognizes a name from Kentucky, Missouri, West Virginia, Mississippi, Alabama, South Carolina, Florida (Stetson has now signed), or Texas, please let me know. Agnes Scott got Georgia on the list, but it's the only name I recognize so far.

ETA: the strike throughs. I'm glad BC joined.

ETA2: University of Richmond has signed!!!
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Statement from the Association of American Colleges and Universities.

Could the wording be stronger? Yes. Is it still a good first step? Absolutely.

There are some disappointments. The only University of California branch signing is at Riverside. Duke signed, but I didn't see Stanford. No one expected Columbia to sign, and they didn't, but I was surprised not to see Dartmouth joining with the other Ivies.

But I was also gratified to see American University (Dad for M.A. and Ph.D, me for one year), University of Maryland (me), Boston University (Sis for M.S., Dad as a professor, me as an administrator). Dad's undergraduate school, University of Richmond, and Sis's undergraduate school, Longwood, were not signatories.

University of Virginia may cover Longwood as it's part of the Commonwealth's University system, but I'm doubtful. I was shocked that Northeastern and Emerson didn't join. And somewhat taken aback that I didn't recognize the name of a single HBCU. I know that many black influencers refused to participate -- and encouraged their followers not to participate -- in the April 5 marches because white folks got them into this mess, so there may be an aspect of that. I would hope that the HBCUs will issue their own letter.

The single name that thrilled me the most, though, was Hollins University. It's a private women's college founded under the name Valley Union Seminary in Botetourt Springs, VA in 1841. By the time my great-great-grandmother graduated, it was known as the Hollins Institute. She won a commendation for French, and I still have the French language Bible she was awarded.

The women's colleges were well represented on the list. The only one of the old Seven Sisters whose name I didn't find was Barnard.

I don't know if other Universities can become signatories. It took a year-ish to get all the names on the Declaration of Independence, so I can hope. If it's possible and you don't see the name of your school(s), encourage them to sign. We need to stand together.

ETA: They are accepting signatures and quite a few have added them. MECURTIN: Georgetown has signed. And for my Boston peeps, Emerson has signed. I'm also excited by some of the community colleges that have signed. They're taking a risk. So seeing that Bunker Hill Community College is now on the list makes me very happy.

I was also assuming that the Heidelberg College was somewhere in the U.S., but now I think it's Heidelberg in Germany. Notre Dame de Namur in Belgium has signed.
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The man made mistakes. No one will deny that. But, he later admitted to discounting one group of Church abuse survivors because they were accusing a friend of his. After he saw the evidence, he made a formal public apology to them and had a private audience with them while he was visiting their home country. He was as open as a Pontiff can be about accepting LGBTQIA people as human beings which was a step in the right direction and something a later pope can build on.

He emphasized that life was sacred and told governments not to condemn women who made the choice to abort, but rather to provide better care to them and their children so that the choice might not need to be made. And, like John Paul II, he said, if life is sacred, then the death penalty has got to go. As someone who has been viscerally anti-death penalty at least since I saw the movie Oliver at age 6 or 7, this made me happy even as it outraged many conservative Catholics, especially here in the U.S.

I am not Catholic. I did spend 4 years in Catholic school and took the religion classes. This is deep for world Catholics and we had best hope that we again get a pastoral pope and not an academic/policy pope like Benedict.

In my post from March of 2013, I referred to Pope Francis as a transitional Pope: an Italian, but one from the new world, older so he probably couldn't have too much effect on policy. Instead, he proved to be a robust man who reigned for 13 years. In my opinion, he was a good man for his times, and I hope he's prepared the way for the next pope to be more responsive to the worldwide congregation he'll serve.

If you're interested in the traditions and practicalities for the next few weeks, allow me to recommend the books (and films) of Conclave by Robert Harris which covers the current method for papal election. John Paul renounced the regalia of the papacy. John Paul II expanded the college of cardinals and made changes to the voting pool. If you're over 80, you are still a Prince of the Church, but you have no voice in the conclave. For the older method -- a tradition that goes back at least 500 years and probably longer -- I recommend The Shoes of the Fisherman by Morris West. John Paul II was the last pope to be elected that way. It's also a good read for those who don't remember the Cold War as the tensions of that time come through well.

ETA: Is anyone else worried about J.D. Vance insisting on meeting with Pope Francis yesterday? I mean, the smell of brimstone might have killed him.
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I am not good at this, but I hope that I'll have a crop of something by the end of the summer.

The raised bed exists, but I need more soil before I can plant anything. In Georgia, that means I'm already too late for peas. I'll have at least a few beans of various types though (yard long, lima beans, and October beans) if I'm not completely cack-handed. Okra should still grow. Lettuces. It's a small bed, but if I grid it correctly, it should give us quite a bit for late summer and early autumn. I hope to get the artichoke planted, but I know that I can't expect anything until next summer at the earliest and more likely the summer after that.

In large planters, I have a dwarf Meyer lemon tree and a dwarf finger lime, both of which are self fertilizing.

The Arbor Day Foundation trees arrived on Thursday and the gardener planted them on Friday. Two Kiefer pear trees and two American hazelnuts have been planted. We may get the hazels next year. The pears are like the artichoke, probably two years out.

The front has had the iris, croci, and other bulbs/rhizomes planted. The iris and tuberose should come up this year. They'll be a bit sparse, but they'll all fill in as the years go by. The saffron crocus will be up in the fall and the rest of the bulbs will show up next spring.

One of the Arbor Day Foundation trees has been planted in the front yard. It's a pink dogwood, the one sign of spring I missed when I lived in Europe. Then there are two lilac bushes. They're one of the few types that can even survive in this growing zone, so I hope that I'll have the sweet scent next spring, but more than anything else, the lilacs are a crap shoot. Several roses have been planted on the other side of the front door, all of them scent roses, all of them different heights with different bloom times.

This is my way of protecting my family. Next year, I'll know what I'm doing and can start another raised bed and one of the big bags for potatoes.

Nicky (male dog) had a cyst removed this week. I thought the scar would be about two inches. It's closer to five. Fortunately, it's on a part of his back that he can't reach, so we only put him in the cone of shame (it's really an inflatable donut) when we're not around to keep an eye on him.

Sis turned 61 yesterday. Our dinner reservations were changed by the restaurant from last night to tonight.

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