When life gives you lemons

My lemon tree is feeling the brunt of the drought. With water restrictions we are not watering as much and our darling lemon tree is going dormant. It never goes dormant so I'm hoping that is what it has decided to do and not the alternative; dying and I just can't think of that right now. It's a good old tree and in '07 it had some problems but came back to us after a severe trimming so I hope it will be resurrected, yet again.

This solid old tree has given us lemons year round for the thirty-six years we've lived here. The track, built in 1965, could very well have been built on an existing lemon grove. The parcel of land east of us, now a large apartment complex and huge grocery chain store, once had citrus groves. When we moved here developers were in the process of removing the trees to build these two project. So much of the valley was walnuts or citrus so this tree could be much older than the track itself.

Life without this dear old friend would be sad indeed for it's supplied many memories. Every year we make lemonade for 4th of July and, in it's hay day, supplied neighbors and friends with bags full of lemons. Our spring brings the most blossoms and on a warm day the scent from the tree can be almost overpowering but comforting in a way. Spring has a way of doing that, reminding us everything will continue on it's cycle again. I hope the old lemon tree has not forgotten that promise and next spring will bring forth the bounty of years past.

Mi Doyers: poor Joe

The Dodgers acquired John Garland in a trade with the Diamondbacks for "a player to be named later." For a while I hoped that player would be John Garland but he actually pitched a decent game in Pittsburgh last night. Now if only the other players could have helped. Two errors led to three unearned runs and a loss.

The Pirates record: seventeen consecutive losing seasons and the Dodgers can't beat them? Poor Joe, he just shakes his head. He must sleep with a bottle of Maalox. Not only are his players being dumb during the game one of his star pitcher, Clayton Kershaw, is out with a shoulder separation. And, how did he injure himself? Ran into a fence at practice. He's a pitcher for god's sake. What's he doing running around in the outfield?

Nothing better to do than annoy the cats

Some bizarre pong game. Even has sound effects.

Dude!

If your baggy-half-masted jeans are riding so far below your BVDs that we can see skid-marks-- you are no longer making a fashion statement but a statement on your hygiene. Dude?!

How many fingers?

Let me confess. I'm not proud of the fact that I've driven while under the influence but I did. It was a very long time ago when I was young and feeling invincible. WRONG. But I was lucky and nothing bad happened. Lucky. Now me, or my beloved, would not think of slipping behind the wheel while impaired; most of our friends, same thing. Good for us but what about other people? This young Dr., with a promising career, kills a young girl with an equally promising career; what a waste. Drunk Dr. kills young ballerina.

This is all relevant after being at the Greek Theater to a concert last week. Great to see Dave Matthews Band again thanks to my generous darling daughter. Now, I have no problem with people having fun and if that includes drinking or getting high, don't care. You don't bother me and listening to DMB in concert includes whatever you imbibe, I'm OK with that. But what would possess you to get behind the wheel of your car and drive away?

Anyone who's attended the Greek knows the "stacked" parking sucks, but they eventually do get you out. So while waiting for cars to move in the gridlock that is so, Greek, we saw a number of people having no business getting behind the wheel of their cars. It would be safe to say if you can't maneuver over a small two-and-half-foot picket fence; give up the keys to someone who can. If you have to shake your head to focus; get in the damn backseat and sleep it off. If your friend says, how many fingers and you think he's an alien with more than five; dude, you're drunk.

If LA were smart, they'd have a cattle pen with cots and coffee and offer that to concert goers. Five buck, sleep it off and avoid a ticket or the horror of a lifetime of guilt for killing another DMB fan. The exit should be a two-and-half-foot picket fence. Can't get over? More coffee.

Health care; it really is up to you

Tell your member of Congress to get off their butt and support the President. They did it for Bush when they allocated billions (I still shake my head at that) to fund an immoral war in Iraq. Let's doing something for our kids and assure they will have health insurance in the future. We owe it to them for letting Bush ruin this country.

Sign the letter!

Wait a minute …

… wasn't she just a baby? What happened?

A different Day of Rememberance

Today brings back some very strong memories for many folks and I'm no different. September 11, 2001-- I would normally make that date a link but it might be insulting to anyone alive 8 years ago. If you do not know what happened on that date then good for you because the common consciousness will never let us forget.

This post's purpose is to remember what happened on September 12, 2008. Remembering some anniversaries are not happy; but necessary. It has been a year since the train wreck and to be honest, I don't really want to remember. Remembering gives me a the hollow feeling I felt after the crash. I wasn't even on the Metrolink 111 when it crashed though many Friday afternoons I had been. Fifteen minutes longer in court kept me alive and with my family; fifteen minutes earlier would have had me on that train.

My heart aches for the survivors and relatives of the dead because of what they went through, and more than likely what they still experience, was far worse than I can imagine. Living in Simi Valley you can hear the train whistle as it cuts through the heart of the valley going east. The freight that crashed into the Metrolink comes through about 4:15 and thankfully I notice it less these days. To some it's a constant reminder of what happened last year.

My wish is for peace to find these survivors and relatives and for other to remember, albeit a struggle sometimes, how precious is our time together.

Liar?

My sister is a passionate person and her blog sums up this situation so I won't do anything other than post a link to it.

Mind if I'm a bit appalled?

If she calls you a dope, she's pretty spot-on and she's feisty, too; you'd love her.

Get your fact of the day

Until someone proves them wrong, I love Factcheck.org.

This little factoid caught my eye. This fact is for the last 20 years and they say nothing of what the enrollment difference is from last year but this is an encouraging fact that there has been an increase.

There are an estimated 19 million students enrolled in U.S. colleges and universities this fall. That’s a 41 percent increase from 20 years ago.

Source: Census Bureau

Help me out

Please, I'm begging you, someone tell me why you would NOT want the President of these United States to speak to your child? A bright person who was not handed his education, nor did he waste it, giving an articulate account of his experiences and how important it is to stay in school; this is not good enough for your children? This is not a good enough role model for them?

Please do explain because my senses have been numbed by the last administration and their eight years of folly.

Almost all alone on your birthday

What the heck happened to Admission Day in California? September 9th was always a holiday when I was a kid but it's sort of disappeared from the state radar. The state offices will be closed for Labor Day but open for Admission Day. This has become a non-holiday relegated to a small celebration on the capital steps with a few songs and some ice-cream and cake. No whoopla, not even an Admission Day sale; we have sales for every holiday.

How would you feel if no one remembered your birthday? So here sits a 159 year-old in the corner of the nursing home–on life support–wearing a party hat and no big party. "Boy, says the state, I hope I live to be 160, maybe then they'll do something for the old girl."

Jeeze, I hope she lives another year, too, don't you?