Procrastination Flowers

We put in some flowers this weekend. Procrastination is my middle name. I got 40 bucks worth of perennials, all discounted by 30%.

Sometimes it pays to wait.

Pictures coming when they spread and grow a bit. They look really nice. If I can keep jack from walking through the flowers, my life will be good. And if the morning glories grow up the post this year ... last year they pooped out. The year prior they were extraordinary.

This year I got red and white ones.

Oh -- and I have some clematis growing that I never noticed before. I always knew the vine was out there, but didn't know what it was supposed to do. This year it has given me one purple blossom. And I loved it.

And my strawberries are ready. Next -- blueberries and black razz. Can't wait to make those pancakes!

---

I'm a little nervous.

On a professional level, I'm about to open myself up to my students and have them READ my journal. The course that I was supposed to design and co-teach last summer was back burnered and waylaid. It's running now. And our orientation for the participants is tomorrow. CM will go over using Blackboard and the course readings and requirements. I will introduce them to blogging, concepts and tools... set them up with Journalspace accounts and pat them on the heads.

I considered starting a third journal, just for class. I pondered the authenticity of doing that -- meaning I'd be a big fat phony in a lot of ways. Part of my philosophy in writing and journaling and blogging is to be honest, out there, and at times if that means I place myself in a position where people may think less of me, I guess that's a price to pay for being a genuine and honest participant in community.

The course focuses on concepts, community, man in machine, machine in man, how it all works together... and for two years I've been one of the many voices in the wilderness. I've yet to piss anyone off too completely, but like I say in my disclaimer, I may have said something at a time of anger or in the heat of thought processing, but most likely, I'm over it. You shouldn't be mad at me or hold it against me. If I'm over it, you should be too. And if you think it's something we should discuss or you feel I owe you an apology -- just tell me. I'm easily humbled.

But not humbled enough to pull the journal down or create an alternative persona for the purposes of the class.

So, IDS271 students, if you're here -- welcome. Read. Hopefully enjoy. And start counting monkeys.

Yesterday was an interesting day. Our neighbors had a big party for their daughter's 2nd birthday. It was an outright blast. Geoff loved playing with all the kids and S&C's friends are entertaining. I sat with the neighbor on their other side (Megan and Matt's dad) and we caught up with life and all. We don't see one another too often, and he's a laugh riot. So it was fun to spend time with him.

We then went to a reception for our new pastor at our church. She gives her first service (and yes, I said she. I don't think it's going to be quite like the Vicar of Dibley, but a woman pastor in our 130 year history is certainly a change of pace) on July 6th, while we're in Maine. We'll miss her first service so we wanted to make a point to meet her at the reception. She's coming up from the church we used to run our Coffeehouse out of back in the day where she was the associate pastor.

She seems really cool, very smart, stylie and funny. Hopefully a blessing and a great new start for our tiny Episcopal parish.

And, the greatest thing about being Episcopalian -- beer and wine at shindigs. Booyeah! Nothing stuck up and holier than though about us! My buddy Scott who is Lutheran refers to us as Whiskeypalians... and that doesn't bother me, one shotglass worth.

The reception was in an old house in downtown, right on the Merrimack. The house itself knocked my socks off, but what was more amazing was the rise of the hill behind the house, and the gorgeous slope down to the water's edge, and the gardens... I could live there. I told the owners "when you sell, call me. I'll find the money to buy this off of you come hell or high water."

It's been their family house for ages. I doubt they'd sell it out of the family... but it doesn't hurt to ask.

The Way Out Inn, with Riparian Entertainments on a Grand Scale. Can you hear Mrs. Bucket (it's pronounced BOUQUET!!!) welcoming her guests now? Yes, yes indeed, my candlelight suppers waterside will be the envy of all the old townies. Do come in.

Snap -- fantasy over.

Jessie and Lee Lee return tomorrow. I'm getting the cap on the truck tomorrow. Doug's working locally tomorrow in area nursing homes shadowing someone... and then tomorrow night we do the orientation and set up for our snoodents.

Wish me luck. I'm anticipating a sleepless, or at least a restless, night. Sigh.

More later -- over and out.