Boomerang

Working on a secret project this week. Don’t want to jinx myself. Wishing myself well. I have a vision.

I started Sunday to focus completely on cleaning the house for a week. To make it sparkle. 

Summer cleaning.

Don’t know how far I’ll get. My back is already aching.

It means ignoring the yard, and spending my energy on INSIDE goals, which is very hard for me to do. 

Multi-tasking never was one of my strong points. I’m more Zen, focusing on what I’m doing at the moment. Now-a-days it’s the only way I can work without getting completely frustrated.

I’ll have to start and end the days with Ibuprofen. Maybe for 6 days it won’t cause side effects. Knock on wood.

And I’ll have to continue my good eating habits. No cookies or candy for this incorrigible sugar addict.

Caffeine is another story. Just bought a new can of Coffee. It’s what i can afford: Folgers French Roast from Kroger, on sale, a dollar off. 

I have a little butterfly garden down by the road, right on the curb. It’s the only place I have any amount of sun. It’s also the area where all the rain seems to flow like a water shed. That spot is where the rain water on our property drains out to the street.

The butterfly garden is only 10 feet by 5 feet.

For such a small spot, I do an extraordinary amount of work on it. This little garden uses up a lot of my energy both physical and mental. I’m always thinking about it.

It started a few years ago, Fall 2009, when Cobb County had its infamous September flood caused simply by too much rain.

The water table went up to heights never before seen, and that’s when my neighbor across the street, Hal, found out his beautiful corner lot had a natural spring on it, right under his house!

It flooded Hal’s property, my front property and one more property downhill.

The spring didn’t stop flowing until June 2010. By that time my whole lawn out by the street was a soggy mess. I’d long since given up on growing grass and went with the flow. I planted a swamp garden.

As my property slowly dried out, I began shifting the plants down to the dwindling wet area. Finally, what remained was the 10’ by 5’ soggy spot that became the butterfly garden. 

That summer I sprinkled several seed packs of giant zinnia flowers and up blossomed a magnificent butterfly garden. The Gulf Fritillary butterflies went crazy for it. The neighbors loved it. Little kids walking to and from the bus enjoyed it. 

The next summer I was asked, would there be a butterfly garden again? Of course! A definite yes.

The recent “Advance Publications” newspaper massacre in Louisiana/Alabama reminds me of the dot-com bust, the post 9/11 airline industry decline, and the housing crisis. Nothing will be the same. 

When I think of these three big changes, I realize nothing will rescue the newspapers. They must evolve through trial and error.

Things won’t be the same.

That said, Advance Publications seems to be making the changes more cruel than necessary!

Even 12 years after the airline industry post 9/11 period, one airline employee I know is still earning 15% less than in 2001. 

Save what money you can. That tired old saying: hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

Today was a sad, sorry day for Southern newspapers in Louisiana & Alabama. Advance Publications, the parent company, made massive layoffs at the Times-Picayune, the Mobile Press-Register, the Birmingham News, and the Huntsville Times. The Mississippi Press in Pascagoula is also involved in some way but I can’t figure out how.

Advance Publications is cutting publication of all the papers mentioned to three days a week. It plans to focus now on the associated newspaper web sites.

It’s very hard to describe. Bad day at Black Rock. Custer’s last stand. Just a bloodbath. A massacre. 

How Advance Publications can live with themselves is beyond me.

Well. Sadness.

My dearest dog, Emma, died on May 25th. It was a horrific day, and the weeks following were very difficult. Missing her presence, her smile, her kisses, her unconditional love.

Suddenly a huge vortex-like hole opened up. 

And then, along with all that, there was the GUILT.

Horrible to find out about my human boundaries — my human foibles & faults, and my just plain errors in judgement — at the expense of my dog. Horrible.

Oh yes I took really good care of her to the very best of my ability. I guess that is all I can do, all any human can do. I guess then, I don’t like being human very much. 

Love love love to all who have a dear pet they adore. Love them like there’s no tomorrow.

Hey, I have a blog!!! My Facebook friends will be thrilled to be rid of my two and three paragraph posts. 

I welcome myself to 2012.