Urban Mulcher

Teague and I spent some time outdoors today in the "backyard". I put it in quotes to signify that the idea that our 200 square foot patio, situated in the canyon of inner-city row-houses, that it is yard-like in some way is somehow suspect. The previous owner, a wildly A-type personality by all reports, with a serious green thumb, had maintained the back patio as a very nice perennial garden, which I have mostly let go to seed. I mean, I do try, but what springs up each year is mostly a mystery to me. For instance, there is this incredible plant that blooms each spring called a "Bleeding Heart" (spectablis dicentra), but I was basically ready to yank the thing out of the ground, because honestly, it looks kind of like weed to me when it is not blooming. I'm glad that I held off though, because it looks fantastic in the spring (see a representative photo below), though it kind of dies off later in the summer and looks lame the rest of the year. But anyway, I let Teague crawl around out on the patio, and he got into the flower beds and crawled around in there and got really filthy, but seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He has never really tried to eat dirt or sand or anything, which I chalk up to his deep, innate intelligence. Every time a plane flew over, he got really interested and spent time trying to spot it, grunting to me by way of trying to alert me to its presence.

The main thing I'm trying to do is to start a compost pile in the backyard. I have been thinking about this for a while, and came across an article by a woman who was doing "urban composting" using a large plastic container http://www.yougrowgirl.com/garden/urbancomposting.php .So, I had been thinking about doing this myself, though I so far have hesitated to go out and buy anything new. We are in extreme budget conservation mode these days in the Furtherdad household, and all purchases are examined closely. But then, the other day I came home from a walk with Teague and Mumi the Killer Spaniel to discover that our neighbors had thrown out as garbage the exact kind of container I needed, a large "Rubbermaid" container with a lid that clamps downs. It was cracked along the bottom, but this is perfect because you need to let water drain out the bottom anyway! So, I raided their trash, dragged the container to the backyard and started planning the compost. We now have a sealable plastic container that sits by the sink where we collect organic scraps like coffee grounds, egg shells, fruit rinds, vegetable peelings, etc. I'm starting to mix it in with other yard waste in the bin. I'm totally impatient though. After two days of adding to the bin I started going out there fully expecting to see this great, black, organic mix of humus. Of course there are still just wet leaves and garbage in there! Also, I realize that starting your compost at the beginning of winter isn't exactly the most ideal time, but so what, I'm ready for the spring I guess, plus, what with global warming, I'm sure we will have plenty of above freezing days this winter!

Secret Meetings with Cats and Birds

Furtherdad walks Mumi the Killer Spaniel on Sunday nights. Sunday is my wife Mira's "TV night". She has a lineup of shows she likes to watch, starting with 60 Minutes, and she feels justified in this indulgence insofar as we don't really watch much television otherwise. I sit and watch a couple of the shows with her, and wouldn't feel the least bit annoyed at any of this if she didn't have to wrap it up with "Desperate Housewives" at the end of the night. When this particular show comes on is when I make my hasty exit, and head out the door with Mumi for canine adventures in the dark streets. It is really saying something indeed, that I prefer the company of the hound to watching this particular show.

Speaking of walking, Teague is SO close to walking. Today, all day, he seemed to be making attempts, flirting just at the edges of this new ability. For instance, this morning when I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, he was standing there next to me, holding onto my leg, and he then slowly, tentatively, he took his hands off my leg to where he balanced on his own, looking at me then with a sly smile on his face, and finally taking one small step away, but suddenly he became aware of his precarious state of balance, and plopped down onto his diapered butt, looking up afterwards with a big smile, both of us laughing and my praising him extravagantly.

There is a crazy lady in our neighborhood named Sophi. Well, maybe not crazy, but perhaps old beyond caring, old to the point of decay, or something like that. She is always disheveled, with wild hair, her rumpled, worn clothes are stained with grease, her face is hirsute and typically flecked with crumbs of some sort, with only a few teeth left now, and always carrying around a few plastic bags filled with cans of food, bread crusts, and whatever else that she feeds to various stray cats and the legions of pigeons that terrorize the neighborhood. The way I came to talk to her in the first place is that she saw me walking Mumi the Killer Spaniel on the street and Sophi fell immediately, and deeply in love with the dog, and they have been illicit lovers ever since. Whenever Sophi sees Mumi on the street she coos with joy and they begin to kiss- I'm not kidding, to the point where Mumi's dog tongue is in Sophi's mouth, and Sophi does not recoil. It is truly a disgusting sight, I must say. But then I find it funny, because whenever we see Sophi, and I have Teague with me, say, in the backpack or stroller, Sophi fails to react at all to the beautiful, handsome, charming child, and instead immediately begins to molest the dog....

But then, one day I'm down in the public market, walking through the many stalls with the massive variety of prepared foods, delicacies, produce, cheeses, chocolates, EVERYTHING, and of course absolutely jammed with people, tanks of fish, neon signs buzzing, fresh aroma of bread, sushi on the left, burritos on my right, Amish butchers, kosher foods, Indian, Mexican, etc, and then through all of it I hear sweet piano music coming from nearby, and as I weave my way through the crowd, I look and behold...old SOPHI sitting at a battered piano, playing away, with a tip jar on top. Of course I walked up and dropped a bill into the bowl, and though I tried to catch her, eye, she didn't seem to recognize me- without the dog, I guess. Next time I saw her I asked her about her piano playing at the market, and we talked for a while about music, since I also play classical piano. She loves Chopin and so do I, and so now when she sees me, she still doesn't pay much attention to Teague, but after making out with Mumi the dog for a while, she'll typically ask me if I've been playing any Chopin.

The only reason that I'm thinking about this tonight is that I happened to pass by Sophi's house tonight when walking the dog. She lives about a block and a half away from us. I discovered where she lives because she has her piano situated right in front of her window on the ground floor of her house, and if you saunter by and look through the ground level windows (as I am helplessly drawn to do, as eyes in the dark are drawn to the warmth and light of unguarded interiors), one can't help but see her sitting there playing. Tonight, I was walking Mumi along the street where Sophi lives. The rain of the last few days had cleared off, leaving a light strata of clouds, just barely concealing a waxing moon, near full. From across the street I could see doddering Sophi through her window, hunched over at her piano. She was playing Chopin's second Nocturne, a piece that I also attempt to play, and the sweet and familiar melody tinkled crystal in the night air. So strange to think that this was the same woman I see with her crazy-toothed smile, peddling her bicycle at 2 mph down the street on the way to her secret meetings with cats and birds.

Global warmth

I can't help but admit that I'm feeling pretty fine these warm and rainy post election days- giddy even. I'm stunned that our flowers look so great up on the top deck, even now in November. Perhaps this is another awesome benefit of global warming...flowers into December! I imagine there have been times at this latitude where early November could be covered in snow- but not this year. So we have a new president and that kicks ass! I'm so psyched for things to be different, for an administration that can bring progress and good will to the country, after 8 looooong years of war, secrecy, and expanding executive power. And while I'm just a crazy-assed liberal for sure, I truly believe that this administration will be good for children, health-care, and the environment, which are things we can all care about that if improved will boost the quality of life for everyone in this country.

On election night I ran upstairs at midnight and woke up Teague and brought him down to watch Obama's acceptance speech. I was kind of loaded, to tell the truth, having spent the better part of the night across the street drinking beers at an election watch party. The Obama supporters outnumbered the McCain supporters at the party, but the atmosphere was congenial and everyone there imbibed, laughed and enjoyed the suspense. The end came suddenly, and half out of my mind with excitement, I ran home before Obama came on, because in fact people were kind of obnoxious at the party, flipping that channel all over the place, providing ludicrous critiques of hair and fashion, and anyway, I wanted to be with Mira and Teague at this historic time. So, I dragged the poor little guy down out of bed and he was dazed and baffled for sure to find himself up at that late hour. He quickly warmed to the situation though, and began to cavort about the room, throwing books and blocks around, glancing only occasionally at the television screen, and exhibiting very little interest in the oration. Still, he was there for it in case he ever cares about such things in the future. My folks woke me up for the moon landing, and though it is only a very faint fog in my mind decades later, I'm glad they sensed the import of it and woke me, and it makes me feel good for reasons I can't quite explain. Finally, I'm just really proud that my boy will grow up in a world where it just seems natural that anyone can be President, no matter color or creed (and let's hope gender someday), for it will never have seemed otherwise for him.