Good Tuesday, Everyone.  Oh, what a storm we had yesterday evening.  The weather people had warned that the line of thunderstorms was coming in "at highway speed."  And it did.  The wind drove the rain sideways--and I do mean sideways.  It looked like some of the pictures we get from hurricane coverage.  Usually, our fence protects the patio from winds.  But I cringed as I watched it whip my strawberries on the fence and the tansy which is, for now, the tallest plant in the gardens.  The lower level plants were also pummeled.  I checked everything this morning.  The borage was badly beaten down but it may come back, and the chocolate mint and lemon basil were a bit bedraggled.  Otherwise I have a couple of plants that need a bit of support. The forecast for today calls for more thunderstorms this afternoon.

Our news showed this story last night but left everything as a mystery--no possible explanations given.

Hi, Kay.  I wish I could say I paid all my student loans back.  Unfortunately all of the jobs I had before (reluctantly) retiring paid much less than the payments would have been--or I was unemployed.  I consider my last stint in academe the worst "investment" I ever made.  The only reason austerity hasn't hit us harder is pure, dumb luck.  Mom has good health insurance thanks to her late husband (although that is getting more expensive) and I have no long term health problems.  Our combined social security is just enough--if those bastards in Washington don't muck it up.  I don't mind the idea of Taco Bell or McDonalds or any of the fast food places.  I just don't really want to eat there.  What we cook up here at home tastes so much better.  Mom is much more finicky, especially about anything resembling Mexican or TexMex.  Me?  Not so much.  I figure, if you aren't expecting authentic Mexican, you won't be disappointed.

We paid a visit to our little farm market this morning.  We got some nice red tomatoes and green tomatoes, and some lettuce.  Had a nice conversation with the vender who remarked on the egg cartons Mom carried.  We were taking them to another vender who re-uses them for the eggs he brings to the market.  The eggs we get are from a farm that keeps its hens cage free and doesn't use antibiotics.  The man we talked to has been involved in "organic" production of eggs and veggies since before we had a word for it.  He remembered when, only fourteen years ago, he couldn't sell eggs from his free range hens at any price as the customers rejected "that organic shit."  Now they ask how long he has engaged in organic agriculture.  All his life, he says.  His mother and grandmother were Cherokee/Cheyenne and used what we now call organic practices.  He asked his mother once why she didn't use modern methods and chemicals.  She told him "If the Sky Father didn't make it, don't put it in Mother Earth."  She asked him if he thought they took the toxic chemicals and shot them to the moon.  He said, "of course not."  "So where are they?" she asked.  "You are walking on it and eating it.  Some day it will kill you."  We are Blackfoot/Shawnee (plus Scots, Irish, English, French, and Dutch) and we thoroughly agree.