looking out my bathroom in the early morning i am likely to see the bunnies eating my neighbor's attempt at green beans, and the local humming birds visiting the last remnants of my lilies, and basking in the sound of the doves cooing from the local high spots, trees, pecker poles, rough tops, it makes no difference to them.
wheat harvest is underway. combines cut and thresh the wheat, and big diesels haul it to the elevators. giant balers swoop down upon the straw, and popping out 1100 lb. bales at a prodigious rate, leaving the fields covered with a short slick stubble.
not the bustle of the old days, when large crews of men did the work now done by giant machines .... the old wooden boat, steel men saying. and, all that. still and all, there is a certain romance in men and women harvesting the bounty of the growing season.
the apples are starting to color and put on size, and soon they will be harvested, and the walla walla valley will settle into a more leisurely pursuit , of the tourist dolor, at the tasting rooms and wine cellars. years ago a sophisticated lady these parts dressed in creased blue jeans and white linen shirts, nowadays they wear slinky dresses and are oh so very sophisticated. it all reminds me of the old joke about " ... not knowing how to spell sophisticate, and now i are one."
oh, well, times change.
sometimes i pity you slickers, caught up in your b.l.m. and riot pursuits. i wouldn't worry about it much, enjoy the sound of breaking plateglass, and the crackle of flames. your collectivist chains will sit lightly on your shoulders, and your burdens will decrease in time, as the revolution devours its own. it always does. ask robespierre. and, trotsky, and the provisional soviets. read emma goldman, describing the delights of the bolsheviks, as they ate their former allies. ice picks in the eyeballs, anyone?
john jay @ 07.18.2020
p.s. somebody told me this morning about a faculty senate proposing that their university kick out any professor (and/or student, presumably) they label as a racist. let the fun begin. it will devolve into a power brawl. no rage, like the rage of sissies.