Tuesday, March 17, 2026

Web Log for 3.16.26

And a happy St Patrick's Day to all of you who are and are not Irish, even if you're reading this at home, looking out at Big Snow. I felt so much better, this weekend, I did some serious spring cleaning--emptying and scrubbing down a shelving unit, rearranging the shelves, rethinking what to store on them. All the rest of that wall needs is an opportunity to take down, launder, and rehang the curtains. I now have only 35 walls and the floors left to spring-clean. When I get seriously into spring-cleaning I can make it last into July. 

One link and a couple of rants...

Communication, Serious Problems In 

This one was prompted by something posted on a forum, long enough ago that, if you think you know the family, you probably don't. Here's the problem:

You are well over age 70, maybe 80 or even 90, and married to a person with advanced dementia. Your spouse does usually remember who you are and where things are in your home. New memories of who other people are and where other places are don't seem to take. When, for example, you take your spouse to see the dentist next week, you know your spouse will not recognize the dentist but will take your word that this person is a dentist, and will forget, on the way home, having just been to the dentist, and may mumble something like "My teeth feel funny. I should see the dentist." 

Your spouse has a sister who is the bossy type and would be delighted to declare that you're no longer competent to care for your spouse. You don't have children, so sister would be the next candidate to be your spouse's legal guardian. Sister is not very patient and would probably shove your spouse into one of those nursing homes where you've heard senile patients wailing "Help! Take me out of here!" when you've visited friends. Your spouse does not have all that much money, but sister would just love to find a way to get what your spouse does have willed to her.

Sister was not told when the dentist's appointment is, but sister issued one of those invitations that really amount to orders or even threats. You and your spouse must come to dinner and see their new furniture.

"Maybe on Friday?" you say. "Allowing a day to recover from the dental operation? The dentist is thirty miles in the opposite direction from your house. On Wednesday and probably even Thursday we'll both be tired."

Sister says, "No, I insist! You must be the first guests to have dinner in the new dining room!" with a grin like a shark.

You are a Christian, so dropping something into sister's tea, hiring someone to make sure your spouse inherits from her rather than vice versa, or even setting fire to the new curtains is not an option. What do you do?

Logic, Male 

I know it's meant to be funny. Is it funny? How often do things like this actually happen?


Weather 

So far it's not Big Snow, but it's wet snow, freezing and clinging to the pink petals that had just started to cover the Feral Elberta Peach Tree. A feral peach tree that bears fruit that can be identified with a commercial variety is a freak of nature few people live to see--usually, if a peach pit that rolls where gravity takes it sprouts into a tree at all, any fruit it bears are little green knobs--but even the Feral Elberta Peach Tree will have a hard year. 

Book Review: The Changeling

Title: The Changeling

Author: Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Date: 1970

Publisher: Atheneum / Scholastic Book Services

ISBN: none

Length: 232 pages

Illustrations: drawings by Alton Raible

Quote: “[A] changeling comes when some other creatures, gnomes or witches or fairies or trolls, steal a human baby and put one of their own babies in its place...when the babies are just a few hours old...Aunt Evaline and I think I might be a wood nymph or a water sprite.”

Martha is the shy, quiet baby sister in a family of high achievers. Ivy is the creative, idealistic baby sister in a family of tough guys and alcoholics. The Changeling is the story of their friendship, which lasts all through their school years and culminates when the girls have to find out who really committed a crime (a mean girl in their class has accused them).

It’s chick-lit; what Snyder’s son categorized as a “sad story about girls” when he demanded that she write Black and Blue Magic, a funny story about a boy. It doesn’t really fit into the stereotype of what children in any particular grade ought to be reading; too slow-paced and emotional for most middle school readers, too chaste and simply told for most teenagers. (Even in grade ten, Ivy and Martha don’t seem to think their lives need any romance.) It can be read as Snyder’s reaction to the elitist bigotry of which some Americans hadn’t even become ashamed in 1970: adults think Kelly, who belongs to a “nice” middle-class family like Martha’s, would be an appropriate friend for Martha, but Kelly is thoroughly hateful; adults think Ivy would be a bad influence, but she’s as good a friend as a little girl can be.

It is, however, the reality-based story behind Snyder’s venture into fantasy, a few years later, in Below the Root. Some readers may find these stories interesting enough to compare and contrast and consider how Snyder had developed as a writer during the years between these two novels. In The Changeling Ivy invents, Martha co-writes, and they act out as a dance, the story of the Tree People; in Below the Root the story reappears as an independent fantasy adventure. Both novels contain embedded anti-drug messages. Which way of embedding an anti-drug message in a story works for you?

For me The Changeling is also useful as a study of the two healthy introverted traits that frequently appear in females. The physical traits that produce LBS and HSP personalities hadn’t been scientifically identified yet, but it’s obvious that Martha, who is neither stupid nor hypothyroid but consistently “slower” than her siblings, has a long brain stem and Ivy, who tells stories and becomes a dancer, has high sensory perceptivity. By now my sister has managed to find educational picture books about introversion for preliterate children. Verbally talented introverts may still prefer to read a story about the adventures of two school-aged introverts, rather than a picture book aimed at younger children. So, although The Changeling was among Snyder’s slower-selling books and may not be easy to find, it’s still worth buying for an introverted little girl. 

Or for yourself, if you were once an introverted little girl (or boy) and still enjoy a simple story that’s not about adultery or murder. Like most novels aimed at child readers, it’s not complex enough to draw adults back again and again, but the plot takes enough turns to get an adult through a few hours of down time. 

The Prescheduled Petfinder Post

It's Monday afternoon and big, fluffy flakes are falling outside. Schools are closed. Businesses are closing. The US Congress has closed for this snowstorm. This web site made it through one Big Snow and Freeze with never a blink. Can we be so fortunate again this winter? With God all things are possible. Can people in the vicinities of zipcodes 10101, 20202, and 30303 be so fortunate? Probably not all of them will be. So, on the probability that all three Petfinder lists of animals seeking homes won't be updated tonight or tomorrow, and having prescheduled a batch of butterfly posts, I might as well preschedule tomorrow's Petfinder post. 

Petfinder's dog pages seem to have been programmed to scold me about warning people to avoid phishing scams by not giving out personal information. Dog rescuers want to know they're sending dogs to people who can keep them and work with them, all the dogs' web pages said today. Do would-be adopters even have fenced yards? So, fine. Send them a snapshot of your fenced yard, dog pen, doghouse--that's relevant. If you ever took in a dumpster dog, trained him, and sold him as a working dog, send before-and-after pictures of the dog. Do not transmit information that identifies private individuals through the Internet. If people in these organizations want to feel that they're not sending dogs they have spent some time petting and vetting and socializing and de-flea-ing to a total stranger, that's reasonable. Get to know them in real life. Do not type any private person's real name, including your vet's real name, into a computer that connects to the Internet. Do not even suggest that people still have phones, now that so many of us think e-mail is quite enough to have--much less ask for a private person's phone number. Organizations can give out office phone numbers if they still use phones, but should anticipate that if private people call their phone lines, these days, it'll be from a store. 

Organizations should, meanwhile, disclose when and where animals came into the custody of the organization. That information may help people track beloved pets who've been lost or stolen. One dog mentioned below was found "by a river" somewhere near some headquarters of an organization that has headquarters in half a dozen places. People want to know not only which river, but which was the nearest bridge. That information does not identify a person whose identity could be stolen; it only helps people locate missing pets.

And organizations that seriously want to place pets should make sure the people they're asking for money feel like honored patrons, not like petitioners--or like victims of scams. If you want to meet people face to face, why don't you give them directions to your home? Exactly. Don't ask potential adopters where to find their homes, either. Organization headquarters are a good place to meet.

Zipcode 10101: Encore from NYC 


There are Queen Cats who rule with an iron claw, but the most effective Queen Cats are the sweethearts who are so lovable, when they're pleased with their subjects, that everyone wants to please them. Encore is that kind of cat. Thought to be about five years old, she charms--and dominates--other cats and dogs as well as people. She is a "talkative" cat with a pleasant little meow her humans say they like to hear. 

Hero from New York or Canada or Maybe California 


The organization has bases on both coasts. They don't say exactly where Hero comes from. They say he's "simple-minded," that it's always a new adventure for him. He follows better trained dogs' examples, though, and wants to please everybody. He is a stray or abandoned dog who may have had no training or not made much progress. Though he's not extra-large the organization stress how much fun he is outdoors and want to be sure he's going to a home with a big fenced yard. 

Zipcode 20202: Malcolm from Virginia by way of DC 



Neutered early and still only about a year old, Malcolm is described as shy at first but affectionate when he gets to know people. He may bump his head against your leg as a signal that he'd like to be petted. He is described as clean, at least for a tomcat. He behaves well with other animals and they think he'd behave well with children, too, if they're taught to respect his boundaries.

Kim from Mexico by way of DC


The web page tells it like it is. Kim is a stray. She was sick, in mortal danger; they took her to a vet who pulled her through. She's had vaccinations against further diseases. She's not been trained, not even house trained. They want her to be adopted by people who can rescue a dog, not merely shop for a pet. You should send photos of the big fenced yard and roomy doghouse where you can keep her. (She weighs about 32 pounds and is only a year old, so she might grow bigger,) She's super-photogenic, thought to be a mix of clever Border Collie and lovable Labrador Retriever, but she has a lot to learn.

Zipcode 30303: Harvey from Chattanooga 


Here's another case where the organization is in Atlanta but the animal is in Chattanooga and can be delivered to other places for the right person. Harvey is described as cautious until he gets to know a place and its people, then showing a personality modelled on a Queen Cat's, as if there were such a thing as a king cat. (He is not, technically, even a tomcat. Neutered male cats can be called gibs, with a hard G as in Gibson, or as in gift.) He's gracious, sociable, purry, and cuddly. You'll want to please him. You'll need to watch closely for ways to please him other than overfeeding him. And someone has already sponsored Harvey for adoption! They don't say what the remaining adoption fee will be. It should be in two figures.

Before discussing this week's winning dog, I should mention that it's the second place winner. The first place winner would have been a bonded team of dogs, but www.joyfulpets.com is a weird site. The organization actually said they DON'T want their animal pictures shared or reblogged. Funny things happen in cyberspace and it's possible that a blog post brought them a lot of spam...but it's more likely that they're up to something of which some blogger, possibly I, disapproved. 

Nadia from Mississippi 


Where she's really from, who knows? She'd be coming to you from Mississippi. People who are too cheap to have their terriers spayed dump the poor things out, pregnant and scared, at crossroads in any old place that's farther from their home than they believe a dog can run. I've seen it done when the dog was so close to term she couldn't even jump over the drainage ditch. The dogs are even more afraid to go to strange people for help than people are to get close to a strange dog, so in many cases they just run till they can run no further, for days, months, having things thrown at them, being shot at, "bumped" by cars (often run over), bitten by other dogs, maybe trying to rear their puppies and not being able to feed them...There's a place in the afterlife, no doubt, where the humans who do that get to live the dumped-out dog experience. Their ancestors look down on them and yell, "Hit'm again!" 

Nadia is thought to be more Staffordshire bull terrier than pit bull terrier. There are differences, but dogcatchers chasing a stray who's been reported annoying other people's pets don't see them. Nadia's lucky she wasn't shot. A foster family who have worked hard to help her recover from wounds, starvation, and fear think she could still be a wonderful pet for the right people. (Staffordshire terriers are often listed among the most lovable dog breeds, usually a few slots down below Boston terriers.) They show some anxiety about making sure they do send her to the right people. They recommend that she be the only pet in the family. They are willing to bring her to where you are, even up North, if convinced that you're the right person because this dog's profile is not the most adoption-magnetic, but they want to feel that they know you first. Send them a photo of your big fenced yard, and an indication of your plans for what happens to your pet if anything happens to you, if you want to take a chance on this dog. If I wanted to adopt her, I'd go out to Mississippi and meet her. 

Monday, March 16, 2026

Book Review: The Seven T's

Title: The Seven T’s

Author: Judy Collins

Date: 2007

Publisher: Tarcher (paperback)

ISBN: 978-1585424955

Some books are so lyrical that they suggest song lyrics by way of a review. Judy Collins, whose son had died long before my husband died, wrote two books on the grief experience that I read during my own grief experience. This one is recommended; the other one is not.

Many people have appreciated this book in the last twenty years, and this year the paperback edition is available as a "purchase" for thirty days with free returns.

When I read this book, a summary of its contents popped out in verse form:

Judy Collins
long bereaved
gives seven T’s
to those who’ve grieved:

Tell the Truth
yes, he was fine
but wasn’t perfect
or divine

Trust good friends
this too will pass
light a candle
say a Mass

Get Therapy
don’t have to pay
for the best, but get
some anyway

Treasure the memories:
good times gone,
unlike the dead,
live on and on

so don’t drown memories
stay alive
care for yourself
stay sober, Thrive

Treat yourself well
get food and rest
a good turn daily
and all the rest

Transcend the grief
that never dies
but it can brighten
not dim eyes
 

Sunday's Book Review: Prayer

Title: Prayer

Author: George Arthur Buttrick

Date: 1942, 1970

Publisher: Whitmore & Stone (1942), Abingdon

ISBN: 0-687-33361 (sic)

Length: 345 pages text, 22 pages endnotes, 14-page index

Quote: “Those who pray are the real light-bearers in any age Perhaps by these pages some may be added to their bright company.”

This book is a classic. It doesn't really need a review, but it deserves a few remarks...

British-born George Buttrick, a Presbyterian minister, finished his distinguished career at Harvard. He was editor-in-chief of The Interpreter’s Bible (which is, like Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s Woman’s Bible, neither a translation nor a revision but a commentary on the Bible). He wrote several books that were successful in their time; the one that’s been reprinted, and cited by contemporary writers such as Richard J. Foster, is titled simply Prayer.

Perhaps the best way to describe Buttrick’s writing style is to remind readers that he was a Late Victorian, contemporary to George Bernard Shaw, G.K. Chesterton, Rudyard Kipling, C.S. Lewis, and H.G. Wells. Although the Scopes Trial took place while Buttrick was a relatively young pastor, he doesn’t debate about evolution, or challenge the psychoanalytical theories that, in their crude and extreme form, reduced all religious faith to projections from the subconscious mind. For him Freud and Jung, and even Hitler and Stalin, were living men—men to be prayed for. Authors that are seldom read or cited by the present generation, MĂ©nĂ©goz and Masefield, Santayana and Sidney Lanier, were the trendy and even bestselling authors he quoted.

So, he came of age in a period when religious writers were expected to risk a little high-flown rhetoric. What topic could be “worthier” of the highest-flying rhetoric than prayer? Buttrick even says that public prayer “should not be ancient or modern, but...the language of a devotional poem,” and in Prayer his language is sometimes really poetic and sometimes just delightfully archaic. “Prayer, far from being superfluous, is the proper air of thought and labor. For man’s toil without prayer is finally meaningless, unrenewed, undedicate—a treadmill drudgery or a suicidal snare.” Buttrick quotes poems, and flights of poetic language, from other writers, and offers as many memorable, quotable, poetic lines of his own for others to quote from him. The twentieth-century misbelief that a Real Man should be ill at ease with abstractions, emotions, or words of more than two syllables, had no hold on him. He was not at all afraid that someone might think he was venting his own emotions rather than giving readers data or showing them pictures. Venting and directing emotions is, after all, one of the purposes of praying—and, for Buttrick, it seems also to have been one of the purposes of writing about prayer.

Prayer is very much a product of its time. As such, it sheds light on its time that may surprise the contemporary reader. Were Americans really solidly united in supporting “The Allies” in 1942? Americans were pretty solidly united in supporting U.S. troops and giving no visible aid and comfort to the enemy...but let Buttrick testify: “Letters pour in upon Amer­ican Christian agencies to urge special days of united prayer for peace,"”he says on page 136 of the 1970 paperback edition. “Several suggest prayers for Brit­ish victory, though a few hint that God this time may be on Germany’s side.” And he asks “whether the hasty assumptions in the proposed prayers can ever be upheld...It is assumed, first, that certain nations are almost black in character and others almost white, and that we have power to read the inmost character of nations.” Historians now agree that things going on in Germany, and in Russia, at this time were morally intolerable. In 1942 it was possible for American Christians to suspect that what information had leaked out to us, about the war crimes of either country or about our own, was partisan propaganda that real pacifists were best advised to ignore. Note also that a victory for “The Allies” was still seen as “British victory,” rather than “our victory.” Even in 1942, and even though he was born British, Buttrick couldn’t bring himself to agree “that God’s purposes are wrought through the mass killings of war.”

Prayer is not a “Progressive” political tract, but it reflects the “Progressive” sense of morality, the perception “that we must build a better world.” It also reflects the psychological fashions of the early Advertising Age, the fear of “the dangers of introversion.” In the early twentieth century many people accepted some version of an idea of the primacy of the collective. “[P]sychology now assures us that our consciousness was not first individual and then by deduction social. It seems likelier that we were first social—that we became aware of ourselves only by...the friction and cooperation of other wills,” as Buttrick puts it on page 109. By the 1970s even avowed collectivist philosophies would come to admit that “we are born screaming ‘Ow’ and ‘I’,” but many of Buttrick’s generation were prepared to believe even in telepathy as a possible means by which infant humans could be “first social.” Buttrick was one of those Christians who accept the trendy ideas of the period, without question, in their eagerness to formulate Christian responses to the trendy ideas.

His book is dated by his desire to be trendy. Few would now argue that we are “first social”; what previous generations called “telepathy” most of us now chalk up to subtle communication via “body language” and pheromones, and we now recognize a clear difference between true introversion, an hereditary trait with a physical basis, and the withdrawal and alienation produced by psychotic conditions. Meanwhile, he seems to be addressing both a literal-minded and barely literate audience who imagined that prayer ought to enable them to do anything, and another literal-minded and barely literate audience who had concluded prematurely that if God didn’t answer their prayers with an audible voice God didn’t exist and prayer was useless. Buttrick could not have anticipated that neurologists would locate a “spiritual center” in the brain, that by now atheists would be arguing that religion was a disturbance of the spiritual neurons and Christians would be arguing that animals who keep the use of their eyes are animals that sometimes see light. And introverts in search of a respectful, appreciative spiritual teacher won’t find one here; Buttrick writes as if he came closer, in his lifetime, to being a self-hating introvert than to being a self-actualizing one.

All this can, of course, be understood in its historical context. What Buttrick has to offer is encouragement to Christians praying privately (with emphasis on the psychological benefits of regular prayer to those who pray), and clear instructions for Christians, such as ministers, who are called to pray aloud for a group. Preferring that prayer leaders and ministers recite or even read other people’s prayers rather than offer the “irreverence” of an awkward ad-lib, he then offers an outline for group prayers in church.

Anyone who has ever been embarrassed into awkwardness, or avoided a religious meeting from fear that some clumsy extrovert will demand that everyone pray aloud, will be helped by Buttrick’s advice that public prayers be planned, outlined, and “wrought” into a form that will be uplifting, rather than boring or distracting, to the audience. He even supplies a few examples—not too long to memorize. And how do we know whether the “working” of a prayer is merely a performance, or an act of real worship? By the experience of regular private prayer, of course. I started to type the list of seven prayers Buttrick recommends for a church service and the page on which the short list of five appears, but the younger self who used to be dismayed by the demand that everyone pray aloud for the group said, “No! Young Christians need to read the whole book.” In order to understand exactly what Buttrick means by the list of five you need to have absorbed the chapters that explain these forms of prayer, and practiced each form of prayer in private.

Prayer is an interesting book, well written, and worth the attention of any Christian. I think it will be most useful to Christians who need some preparation for public prayer. One can pray privately without reading any book on prayer, but in order to pray publicly many of us need guidance.

Butterfly of the Week: Acraea Swordtail

Graphium ridleyanus should logically be called Ridley's Graphium in English, but its standard English name is Acraea Swordtail. It does not belong to the genus Acraea. It does not have sword-shaped tails on its wings, either. The tailless African Graphiums are sometimes called Ladies, and this species is sometimes called the Red Lady.


Photo by Jakob, May 2014.

Acraea was the name of a minor character in Greek mythology, a water spirit who worked as a servant to Hera. It also meant "from the heights" and was used as a name for shrines and temples built on hilltops, and for the goddesses worshipped there; there were Hera Acraea, Aphrodite Acraea, Artemis Acraea, and Athena Acraea, and probably more. The Acraea Swordtail is, however, so called because it mimics some butterflies in the genus Acraea, and they mimic it, in Mullerian or reciprocal mimicry, where each species is somewhat toxic to predators in a different way, and each gets some additional protection from resembling the other.

Acraea egina and A. perenna are the Brush-Footed Butterfly species Graphium ridleyanus most resembles. In this series I try to show only one butterfly species per post, but you might want to visit



Ridley was the name of an entomologist who collected several African butterflies for study by Europeans, before succumbing to a tropical disease. Colleagues who named this species in his honor said that he "fell victim to the climate of western Africa." 


Photo by Rogerio Ferreira, February 2019, Angola.

Graphium ridleyanus lives in central Africa. Countries where it's been found include Angola, Burundi, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Chad, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Malawi, Nigeria, Rwanda, Sao Tome e Principe, Sudan, Tanzania, Uganda, and Zambia. It has been reported in Benin and Sierra Leone, but these reports are now considered to have been erroneous--either the butterflies were misidentified or they were not where they were supposed to be. Graphium ridleyanus is found in the borders between forests and savannas. 

It looks very similar to, and as if it might be able to crossbreed with, Graphium angolanus, G. endochus, G. morania, G. schaffgotschi, and G. taboranus.

A popular species, Graphium ridleyanus has inspired many arts and crafts designs, including postage stamps.


At the time of writing this stamp was for sale on Etsy. By the time this post goes live it won't be there any more.

Sites for carcass traffic are abundant. This web site runs over and drips with scorn for the sort of butterfly "collectors" who would rather buy carcasses of big showy exotic butterflies than learn anything useful about their own local species. We collect butterflies in a more tidy and sustainable way now, with cameras--and photos of Graphium ridleyanus for sale are also abundant on the Internet.

Spots and colors are variable. In some individuals the base color of the wings can be described as black, in some as brown, in some as pale sepia. Some have pink, red, or orange patches on the wings and some have yellow or off-white. Both sexes can be darker or more pinkish. Wings can be scantly scaled and translucent. Males and females have slightly different patterns of spots, and some variations have been given subspecies names: infuscatus, fumatus, fumosus, rosa, semivitreus, describing wing coloration, and njami and hecqueti, referring to places. A gallery of color patterns is available for viewing at 



Both males and females have been found but males are much more easily found. They like to hang out at puddles, alone or in groups, often with other Graphiums. Males slurp up brackish or polluted water, storing mineral salts in their bodies and returning filtered liquid to the soil. Though not common they can seem excessively "friendly" to humans, willing to perch on our skin and slurp up sweat. 


Photo from the African Butterfly Database at https://abdb-africa.org/species/Graphium_ridleyanus

Its host plant is thought to be Monanthotaxis laurentii

There is still room for African students to become famous by learning the basic facts about this species' life history.

Sunday, March 15, 2026

Web Log Weekender for 3.13-14.26

With a silly meme and a burst of Bad Poetry,,,

Mothers Day 

Worth printing and saving for Mothers Day...Mothers don't need costumes. They all fight crime as superheroines.


As usual, thanks to Joe Jackson for a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon.

Writing 

All whose brains are not in comas
Know the uses and merits of commas.
Even theatrical performers
See that the little things spare us dramas.
This web site favors Oxford Commas
Without which some sentences are alarmers...


No need to be commie about commas.
Help yourself to all you need.
Each item in a list gets a comma
Unless they're numbered, one-two-three'd,
Though not all pauses for breath require commas.
(Some fear these marks of punctuation breed.)

Commas are common in English writing
Because they so often come in so handy.
Not quite in every sentence alighting,
They're sprinkled about like bits of candy.
Use them precisely, to enlighten,
So that they always look fine and dandy.

Commas separate phrases and clauses
(For clauses, they also need a conjunction).
They spell out the subtle little pauses,
As when names are spoken with due compunction.
A leap from "I want" right off "Santa Claus" is
A sign of an ethical dysfunction:

Dere santa claus I want a REAL racing car not just a Toy & 
& ALL the Boxes of Legos in the Store
& a Thorobred Horse not just a Pony &
hey I'm not finish I want a lot more

Comments, if short, may be marked by commas:
Interrupting a quote to say "he said";
Annotating: "They eloped, as in Shakespeare's dramas,
When her parents advised them not to wed";
Though if items are long phrases like a farmer's
To-do list, use semicolons instead.

Commas make our communication
Easier, though this poem, for one,
Was written less for clarification
Than for five minutes of chortles and fun.
If you need further education,
Grammar sites show how commas' 
Pretty little tricks,
Clever little tricks,
Easy ways to fix
A sentence, should be done.

Friday, March 13, 2026

Bad Poetry: The World Is Burning, But...

This poem was prompted by Magaly Guerrero, cancer warrior, at Poets & Storytellers United: Write a poem containing the words "the world is burning, but..."  

We live in interesting times.
Too many people have too many cancers.
The foreign news is simply terrible.
Where is peace found? There are no answers.
The campaign lies were just unbearable.
Bestsellers' Substacks are not earning.
Publishers charge to read our rhymes.
Oh yes, dear friends, the world is burning,

But still the small green leaves of spring
Are growing even on sprayed hedges.
Migrating birds begin to sing
On their way back to their own ledges.
By the lake rushes, cattails, sedges
Count fifty years of poison spraying,
Many dead stalks pale round the edges,
And still in green defiance swaying

Murmur that Life still rides above
Cruelty, greed, war, rape, pollution.
Babies and puppies say even Love
May yet deliver restitution.
Spring's first mosquito said, flying by,
"I'm the least wanted thing of the season.
Throw me to the spider, if I must die;
For living Life always has a reason."

Crocus are purple below the hedge.
Daffodils' gold is soon to follow.
Irides show green knife blades' edge
To chickadee, junco, swift, and swallow.
What the old people call redbud winter
Can only temper the way to spring;
Juts from the pathway like a splinter;
And on we go, and still we sing.

("What? No kittens?" my cat Serena would have said, if she knew how to read, if she'd been in the office, which she doesn't and wasn't. "How can you think of things that are painful and things that are wonderful without kittens?"

Serena's viable kittens have been born early in the year, but this year's Big Deep Freeze seemed to put her off the whole idea. I'm warning people who want kittens not to expect one this year. 

"An e-friend," I said, "lost a cat this winter. So then she had room to adopt two kittens. She says they're wild in the sense of being full of instincts and energy, but very friendly and cuddly when they stop running around like Berserkers."


(Kitten photo by the writer known as Priscilla Bird)

There.

Book Review: The Darling Buds of May

Title: The Darling Buds of May

Author: H.E. Bates

Date: 1958

Publisher: Curtis / Atlantic Monthly

ISBN: none

Length: 219 pages

Quote: “After distributing the eight ice creams—they were the largest vanilla, chocolate and raspberry super-bumpers, each in yellow, brown and almost purple stripes—Pop Larkin climbed up into the cab of the gentian-blue, home-painted thirty-hundredweight truck, laughing happily. ‘Perfick wevver!’”

It was often claimed in the 1950s that British Humour was too obscure and topical to be funny in other countries. The Darling Buds of May appears to be an example. I think the gross-outs grossly outweigh the laughs, but this is not a novel in which characters develop; it’s a rather violent satire on the changes in the British class system after the war. The Larkins don’t have to be tacky in a funny way. The mere idea of these tacky people emerging from the London slums to earn and spend obscene amounts of money, in tacky ways, is the joke.

There’s a plot, sort of. Mariette, the eldest of the six Larkin children, reports that she’s going to have a baby and has no idea who the father might be. This may just possibly be a trick, because an attractive young man, Sidney Charlton, tax collector, is in the neighborhood…and sure enough, he’s due to call on the Larkins, who never pay any taxes. The Larkins are migrant laborers, but they’re well paid. The landed gentry among whom they work are impoverished by having to pay income and property taxes, while the Larkins are paid cash every day, keep no records, spend their money as fast as they get it, and think their life is “perfick” if people just “use [their] loaf” (head) and live irresponsibly from day to day. The landed gentry might resent Pop Larkin enough to turn him in if he weren’t constantly treating them to party foods, cocktails, and in some cases illicit erotic thrills that their “background” would not allow them to get for themselves. Charlton is supposed to gather evidence for the prosecution of Pop Larkin, but instead he lets the Larkins seduce him into their lifestyle of carnality.

If you were one of the people who resented people like Larkin it’s probably terribly, caustically funny. If you think the blame belongs to the Welfare State for not allowing the gentry their chance to teach Larkin about the benefits of temperance, it’s sort of funny, too; I chortled. If you like the kind of escape fiction where everybody has fun and nobody gets badly hurt, you might enjoy The Darling Buds of May. If you believe that fictional sinners ought to be punished, you won’t like this novel at all…in fact I acquired it because a censorious library-goer in North Carolina hated it enough to damage my copy. Let’s just say that the Larkins, father and daughter, get off much, much easier than moralists would say they deserve.

Book Review: Holy Radishes

Title: Holy Radishes

Author: Roberto G. FernĂ¡ndez

Date: 1995

Publisher: Arte Publico

ISBN: 1-55885-076-7

Length: 298 pages

Quote: “On the first page was her favorite picture: ‘1940 Yacht Club Dance.’”

This is a novel about Nellie, one of the nightclub dancers in the Yacht Club in 1940, and her family, and why she moved from Cuba to Florida—and why she wants to go back. Nellie has had a long and frankly improbable life, and although, in the kitchen, sometimes she wishes to “turn the bell pepper into Delfina, the onion into Tomasa, and the garlic clove into Agripina,” the person from her past whom she really can’t forget is her pet pig, Rigoletto. People keep telling her different stories about what happened to him and whether he might still be alive. Nellie would never knowingly have hurt her pig but, according to one story, when they all got hungry enough that nobody else could bear to continue feeding him, Nellie ate her share of him with gusto.

Nellie knows her parents are dead, and her husband has an idiotic midlife crush on a gum-chewing girl. What she has left to look forward to is going back to Cuba, and although Cuba has not improved much since she left...this is a comic novel, so you have some idea how it’s going to end.

What you’ll like—if you like it—is the wackiness of this story. People act shamefully and nobly but mostly they act comically. This is not the true story of a Cuban immigrant, nor is it a composite story from several Cuban immigrants. It’s a parable, or a parody, or both. The light down there is tropical, colors seem brighter, birds and flowers and especially insects grow bigger, the reality can be strange and silly enough...but Holy Radishes is over-the-top silly. It’s Macondo redux, Cuban immigrant stories as they might have been narrated by a GarcĂ­a MĂ¡rquez character who’d eaten beans before bed.

What you’ll not like is that those lively bean dreams can be pretty horrific when you think about them, and some of these are. Someone who might have been shot, or declared and then rendered insane, in real Cuba, appears in this novel as having been basically left to die of thirst but then thrown from a tower window onto a rocky beach. Someone who might say ugly things about Cubans or refuse to rent a house to one, in real Florida, appears in this novel leading a pack of scumbags to burn down a whole neighborhood with blazing arrows. It’s funny because it’s cartoonish, like a Dali painting; if this story were remotely lifelike, like a Dali painting, it would be horrible.

Nevertheless, Nellie’s undying love for her pet pig will conquer all in the end. Many find this novel amusing, overall. You might too.

Web Log for 3.12.26

Whoa Nelly! Seventy thousand page views, Google says we got on Tuesday. And a good two-thirds of them appeared to be in the United States, too; the rest scattered around the world in a reasonable way, with about as many views from Russia as we got on an average day when Google was publishing this web site in Russian. Maybe they've started again. I don't want to know. I know robot translation made the French and Spanish editions of my blog look very strange. Maybe that's the attraction for our Russian readers. Maybe the Russian edition is a real laugh riot.

Some of the extra readers have to be hackers and spammers. 

Some of them are here because Tuesday's post was furiously, and intentionally, controversial. Yes, I know the Bitter Clingers to Glyphosate are going to hate me. They already do. I don't care how they feel. Facts first. I want all of The Nephews to have long healthy lives. 

Happily, several views, according to Google, "referred from" sites where I posted comments using links back to this site, and are welcome as the flowers. Most of those comments were not terribly controversial. 

I did reminisce a bit, at one site, about the homelessness crisis in Washington, DC, and the peculiar fact that doing what seemed to solve the problem there actually seemed to double the problem within the years. It should have been more easily predicted. Mitch Snyder, speaking on behalf of a homeless population most of whose worst problem really was that their rent had just been raised beyond their salaries, said that the city needed to give everyone a place to stay. Mayor Marion Barry, a brilliant man in his way, agreed to give every homeless Washingtonian a decent place to stay, often a motel suite with a kitchenette for those living with children. It really worked, for a while. Then word got about. 

My adoptive brother, who was homeless for a year or so after a disabling accident, was trying to avoid his old roommate from the shelter where they'd stayed. Being small and young, they'd watched out for each other, but the roommate hadn't dropped out of university. He identified as a Communist--the Cold War was still on. He wanted to be a full-time career homeless bum, and had come all the way from San Francisco to take advantage of Washington's wonderful new policy of housing the homeless. 

Quite a few people had come to Washington for that reason. Every homeless Washingtonian now had a nice place to stay, and the streets were fuller than ever of more conspicuous and objectionable homeless people. Your typical homeless Washingtonian was embarrassed not to have a home and tried to keep out of everyone's way after work. The new homeless population would throw their sleeping bags right in front of a major tourist attraction, beg for spare change when our homeless population were on their jobs or looking for their next jobs...

Some of them were even Washingtonians; the signs that advertised them as "Homeless & Hungry" were outright lies. I found one begging on the street in Georgetown, during the month when I had, at the very last minute, found a room for rent that I could afford in the neighborhood I wanted. "You can follow me home if you want to," I said. "The landlady won't allow men inside the house, but I can bring a meal out on the porch. We can talk to some people about a place to stay tonight."

"Actually I'm not hungry. Do I look hungry?" he said. (He was not one of the obese people you see everywhere now, but he would have looked better after losing ten or twenty pounds.) "Actually I have a place to stay, though it's not really a home. My wife's in it. She nags. I'm working on a divorce. Actually I just panhandle for fun, seeing how much money I can make this way. Actually I'm going to spend it on beer. I probably will go back to the old bleep's house tonight, once I'm too drunk to care what she says."

If either Snyder or Barry was surprised by this kind of thing, they shouldn't have been. I wasn't. 

Animals 

Having said that Kristi Noem doesn't look ugly, I've been reminded of the scandalette created when she chose to publish, in a memoir, the story of her having SHOT a PUPPY. As usual the attackers left out key elements of the story. The puppy called Cricket had been rejected by other people who thought it was vicious; it had attacked humans, though not yet seriously harmed anyone; when it "ruined the hunt" when she was trying to teach it to hunt wild fowl, it became frustrated and started killing a nearby family's chickens. Noem shot the dog on the spot because that is what responsible dog owners do if their dog has attacked a person or a domestic animal, and the family are watching. Yes, the dog might be put in a shelter and placed in some other family, though it sounds as if another family would have been more disappointed--and endangered--than Noem's were. But if your dog has killed someone's chickens and the person is watching, first you kill the dog, then you pay for the chickens. Those chickens might have been pets, too. Their humans might want to watch that dog die. Or they might stop you, in which case you can put the dog in a shelter with a clear conscience--if the shelter will have it, which the shelter probably won't. Often taking an animal who behaves badly to a shelter is just adding the price of gas to the price of a bullet.

Should it have occurred to Noem that puppies, like small children, tend to "ruin" things they're allowed to join, the very first time, and Cricket might have learned better in a training situation than on a hunt with a lot of unfamiliar humans and older dogs? Yes. Retrievers have a natural talent for retrieving, pointers have a natural talent for pointing, hounds have a natural talent for hounding, but they need some guidance to learn to do those things well. But stupid puppy mistakes are one thing, and biting people and killing chickens is another thing.

Is it more humane to have an animal euthanized by injection than to shoot it? Depends on the skills of the person shooting. I've seen injections fail to kill an animal right away, too. 

I hear the story more as a tragedy than as an outrage. I will, however, allow that it's an ugly story. There are animals even animal lovers can't love. 

Another sad and ugly story is that this story was part of what got Noem the job that made her famous. We as a nation still think that the people who do responsible jobs need to be able to kill. A friend once told me, "I wouldn't vote for you for President. The President may need to be tough and mean. You're too tender-hearted. I'd vote for my ex-wife for President. I'd vote for Hillary Clinton." We did re-elect a President who cried in public, in a dignified and manly way, when a young civilian was killed. We probably wouldn't elect one who showed any hesitation or remorse about killing, e.g., Khamenei, who might not have been a threat to us, but then again he might...

Christians believe that one day we may live in a better world where sweet, tender-hearted, gentle souls can be our leaders. Nobody believes that that day has come. If Noem had gone all Nice Girl, "Oh the poor baby dog just didn't know what to do," etc., etc., some people who've never lived with chickens might liiike her more...but she wouldn't have been elected Governor, nor appointed head of Homeland Security. She would have convinced everybody that she was an excellent choice for a pink-collar job, and been an office manager or junior partner today.  


(Do I always endorse every controversial thing women do? By no means. But when women are being bashed and trashed in the media I do think long and hard about whether they're being judged by the sort of standards I think ought to apply to me or to any of The Nephews who happens to be a niece. If a woman did in fact drop a bomb on a primary school, bash away.)

Cybersecurity 

For a lot of left-wingers, the issue that matters to most people, be it climate change or cybersecurity or civil rights or whatever else, is secondary to their primary goal of "revolution." I hope Cindy Cohn is not just another one of those. Her organization may be worthwhile.


Social Media 

Barkley's Human summarizes why Linked In is such a dead bore.


Google says several people have generated this kind of memes and credits this specific meme to Ulrik Aerenlund on Linked In, with a hint that Linda Adamkovicova may have started the series with a meme where the dog barked at the mail carrier. 

Google also classifies my comment on Vince Staten's blog post as a joke. The plagiarism-bot's sense of humor is not quite up to human standards.

Songs, Inane 

I like some of Crosby's, Stills', and Nash's songs, but just listen to this one...


and see if you don't start thinking of reprises:

My house
is a very, very, very fine house
with three cats in the yard
(more than David Crosby's got)
and I write better songs than he does, too.
If you don't think so,
whatcha gonna do? 

At least that one's not about living off a rich housemate. 

Then again, at least Crosby appreciated that the proper place of cats, in any place where anyone would want to live, is in the yard. 

Sports

Vince Staten...George Peters of Kingsport, mentioned here, was not a close relative of George Peters of Gate City. The one I knew had a younger brother, not a twin. But although neither "George" nor "Peters" by itself has ever been on a list of the most common names, "George Peters" used to be one of the ten most common combinations of given names and family names in North America.

Thursday, March 12, 2026

Petfinder Post: Things That Can Cause an Energy Surge

This week we consider animals who are--currently--bubbly and bouncy and full of energy. Animals likely to energize you.


(More information about Fennel, a sweet and spicy puppy, below.)

Keeping them full of energy is a different problem. Small dogs and cats can get adequate exercise indoors but you need a pet-proofed room where they can bounce off the walls, and things they can climb or jump onto/over/through. Average to large dogs need yards they can run around and guard. Dogs and cats sleep a lot and often prefer to sleep near their humans, and two animals may get a reasonable amount of exercise playing in a pet playroom, but pets really like to exercise with their humans. In fact that may be the only way you can get a Garfield-type pet to take exercise at all. As they grow older, animals will grow dozier.  Some develop disabilities; some still like a good brisk walk four or five times a day, up to the end. Adopting another animal just to meet your exercise needs during your pet's last days may seem cruel; you may want to consider walking with someone else's dog, and the vet may be able to recommend someone who needs this kind of help.

It's better to maintain your energy level with those brisk daily walks than it is to find it suddenly kickstarted by unpleasantness...


My home office is carpet-free; I like rugs that can be washed...so what gives me an unpleasant, but quick, energy surge is when the cats inadvertently do something that generates a power surge for the computers. 

If I do think "That could cost MONEY!" before I think "...and it could even hurt you," that's not so much a matter of priorities as it is of probabilities. Electrical wiring causing shocks or fires, these days, is rare. Anything at all causing a computer to spend a long expensive time in the repair shop is, unfortunately, not rare. The industry wants us to have to replace computers every few years. We need to be holding their feet to the legislative fire about this.

Anyway, this week's energetic and lovable pets:

Zipcode 10101: Buttercup from NYC  


About seven months old, Buttercup was found abandoned in a box with her sisters Blossom and Bubbles. The shelter didn't demand that they be adopted together and, in fact, it looks as if Bubbles has already been adopted on her own.  Blossom, a pale orange tabby, very pretty, could still be adopted together with Buttercup. They are still kittens; they still need kitten companionship for ideal behavioral results. They are cautious around new people, but not in the way really feral kittens are. They've been pets before; they'll be pets again. They get along well with older cats, too.

Ringo from Puerto Rico by way of NYC 


A batch of baby retrievers were found abandoned on a street in Puerto Rico. Ringo is one of them. Thought to be just two months old, barely old enough to adopt, he has a lot of growing and learning to do. If your family are used to living with puppies, this little orphan is guaranteed to bring snuggles, laughter, and adventures to your home. Retrievers are generally energetic dogs who take their humans for lots of long brisk walks.

Zipcode 20202: Harrington from DC 


He doesn't come with a sibling, but the organization offers a discount if you adopt another kitten along with him. Harrington is a last summer's kitten described as a "Velcro cat" who loves to snuggle  and stick close to his chosen human. He likes to chase toys, too.

Alice from DC 


New Petfinder has a serious glitch. When you search for dogs in Washington, DC, the system throws in dogs in Washington state. I finally found a dog who was actually in DC by typing in a Maryland zipcode, instead. Alice is currently being kept on Oglethorpe Street, NW. Thought to be part terrier and part retriever, she's just a puppy, likely to grow into those paws. She will need some training. 

Zipcode 30303: Shiraz from Chattanooga 


The organization is in Atlanta. The cat is in Chattanooga. They will ship her to other States if the right person is waiting for her, but why not enjoy a tour of the rolling hills of Tennessee? Shiraz shows indications of being a future Queen Cat. For now, she's a bouncy-pouncy kitten who likes to play, needs another kitten to play with, and would like to snuggle up beside her human for a cat nap. 

Fennel from Atlanta 



Not only a puppy, but an Australian Shepherd puppy. This breed is known for their high energy. They herd their humans out for a nice long brisk walk every four hours. They are smart, pretty, usually  goodnatured dogs. They can be big enough and herd people with enough determination to frighten some people who probably shouldn't have adopted a dog in the first place, but the reason why so many of them are in shelters probably has more to do with their demanding a bathroom break four hours after bedtime. Humans normally sleep about three hours at a time so being asked to get up four hours after bedtime can feel unreasonable. However, knowledge of this potential problem is power. If you want a dog who will help you rev up your metabolism, lose weight, and meet "dog pawsitive" people wherever you go, you might plan to sleep in two or three separate installments. It's the price of living with a dog who is generally clean, sensitive, and quiet as a cat, while being as handsome, bold, and energetic as a Collie. 

Young as he is, Fennel is reportedly making good progress in basic puppy lessons--things like house training, crate training, leash training. He gets along well with people and other dogs. He likes to stay close to his favorite human, napping on, beside, or under the same piece of furniture.