I wonder if I'm developing some kind of flower obsession. Went back to Bob's yet again and bought four more red salvias and three more "crystal white" geraniums to fill in the front. On a neighbor's advice, I also picked up some tree spikes, so I can feed my poor sick tree. And now I've decided I need to put in more "gold million" (yes, that's what they're called) to add around the stone Asian shrine. Okay, I'll go get them, but that will be the absolute last until I finish weeding the sides and back (ugh!) and nurse the tree back to health.
Funny--that neighbor, Joe, admired my flowers and remarked that I'd have a patriotic flower display if I added some blue. (Huh? Red, white, yellow, and blue?) When I told him I'm not patriotic, he seemed not to hear. His eyes glazed over and he kept repeating robotically, "patriotic...patriotic...patriotic...." Okay, he didn't say that, but he also didn't respond to my statement; he actually didn't seem to hear it. If he had, I would have told him I consider "patriotism" to be nationalism lite, and what else but nationalism (read "exceptionalism") leads us to murder and plunder around the world?
Do I love my country? No. As somebody said, "Don't love anything that can't love you back." I love my family and many of the other people here and I cherish my home and the flowers out front and I enjoy and appreciate a plethora of other aspects of my life. But "love" my country? Not the way I understand love.
Okay, end of sermonette or diatribe or whatever. Enjoyed a long talk/see last night with daughter Ellen, but was sorry to hear Sebastian and Tillie are sick. S. isn't eating as much, a worrisome symptom, as he'll usually eat his, Tillie's, Ellen's, and anybody else's food he can find, as well as stray bugs and, for all I know, the flowers in her garden.
Flowers? Oh, no!