A gray morning here--not that I'm complaining, mind you! We've had a tenth of an inch of rain already this morning and there's more on the way, courtesy of a monsoon-like tropical depression in the Gulf that is sending bands of rain across the Texas coastal plain and into the Hill Country. Sadly, the weather system is also bringing oil to the Texas beaches and wetlands. And yesterday, a good piece of AP reporting turned up a story on 27,000 abandoned oil wells in the Gulf, any of which may be leaking oil. Disastrous neglect by both industry and regulators.
But in the midst of all this gloom, sunflowers brighten my day. My life is like that these days, it seems. Bad news all around, but patches of pure pleasure. Bill and I just got back from Illinois, where we gathered over the holiday with children, grandchildren, and dear friends. A long drive (and too many oil-miles), but it was worth it for the time together, connecting, reconnecting, finding new common interests and concerns, restoring old ones. Precious.
Book report. Another bit of brightness: I finished The Darling Dahlias and the Naked Ladies a couple of days before we left. It flew off to New York via the Internet--such a delight, not to have to print 350 pages, wrap, and ship. All I have to do is hit "send" and off it goes. (A special treat for me, since I'm old enough to remember submitting my work, typed on an old Royal, with carbons. Whew.)
Also bright: the reviews of the first book in the series, The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree, which won a starred review from Booklist, one of the few remaining print review publications. These days, authors can't take anything for granted, so I feel very grateful for the Booklist review.The book is also available on Kindle, I'm glad to say: Penguin and Amazon resolved the differences of opinion that led to the holdup of Holly Blues in April.
Next up on the writing desk: the final book (the wedding book) in the Beatrix Potter series, The Tale of Castle Cottage. It's due to my editor's computer in mid-October, so I'll be spending the summer right here at my desktop. Not a bad place to be, actually, with temperatures regularly topping 100.
Garden stuff. It rained while we were gone, so the garden is doing better than I expected for early July--and certainly better than the last two droughty Julys. I still have a few tomatoes, the zukes and peppers are producing, and the May beans look as if they might make a crop. Best: the sweet potatoes (planted about 3 weeks ago) are starting to push out new foliage. I've never cooked the leaves, but I understand that they're edible. I think I'll try them tonight. Check out the sweet potato link, which includes photos of ornamental sweet potatoes, which I love: I have planters of Black Heart and Marguerite on our deck. And here's some information I turned up in a Slow Cook post cooking the leaves, if you're inclined to run out to your garden and nip a few.
What I'm knitting. Bill did the driving on this trip, while I knitted: string bags right now--teaching myself some new knitting tricks. I used plain old cotton string (which I found in the garden shed, hiding under some newspapers) instead of the #10 crochet thread in the pattern. Worked very well. Have some new Peaches 'N' Cream cotton--we'll see how that works.
What I'm reading. On our four-day drive to Illinois and back, while Bill was driving and I was knitting, I was listening to several very fine books. The Man Who Loved Books Too Much, an abridged (sadly) edition of Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel, and Crude World: The Violent Twilight of Oil, by Peter Maass (still not finished with this one). In e-book format, I also read Pandora's Seed: The Unforeseen Cost of Civilization (first chapters great, final chapters a disappointment). Oh, and Diet for a Hot Planet, by Anna Lappe (which I'm reviewing for Story Circle--I'll post that link when it's up.) Best of the lot: Maass's book, a must-read if you're concerned about peak oil and the direction that our oil-based culture is heading.
Reading note: This lifestyle [based on cheap fossil fuels] is going to change, whether we want it to or not, whether Chevron and Exxon want it to or not . . . The question is whether this lifestyle will change with extreme disruption when the price of oil returns to triple digits and goes beyond the $147-a-barrel record set in 2008, or when global warming means a portion of Manhattan is under water, or–-and this is what I hope happens–our society truly recognizes these threats and begins the painful and costly adjustments necessary for radical shifts toward renewable energy as well as conservation and efficiency.--Peter Maass