Herban Sprawl

16 April 2008
Here in the Star City we got a forecast of hard frost for overnight. So last night the whole area was scurrying around covering the things that had come up so early in the season. Our official last date of frost is actually May 15^th, so it isn’t like we should be surprised. My friends Sam and Cindy were fretting about their fruit trees. It seems that out in Botetourt County (bot-uh-tot for you non-natives) they’d had a hard frost the previous night and she thought they may have lost an apple crop.

I made a note to self – the next time I think about donating a set of tired sheets to the Goodwill, I need to forget that and save them for occasions such as this. All of Charlie’s “hair covers” went outside, as did a lot of contractor bags. I just have to hope there is no wind!

So today, I will uncover everything and hope I didn’t lose anything much. There were some vulnerable perennials, but they may bounce back.

Meanwhile, our thoughts are with The House Goddess. Her mother passed away Monday night. She’d been up and down of late and recently was under hospice care. She told her wonderful daughter she was tired and wanted to go home. The divine being was listening. Our dear one is grieving, but feeling grateful her mama didn’t have to suffer any longer. I understand this.

My own mother fell victim to breast cancer in November of 1970, so I get where The H.G.is coming from. There is just that point when you look at your loved one and realize s/he won’t get better and with that realization comes the hope that the suffering will end as soon as possible.

Time to see if Jack Frost did any mischief in the garden. Here’s hoping you all didn’t lose anything, either -

15 April 2008
Happy Birthday to Uncle Bunkie and that stellar musician, Roger Bellow!

This morning’s Roanoke Times gave City Council another lecture on their failure to involve public comment and input into their decision to award a contract for an amphitheater. The paper pointed out that not only did they fail to deliver on their promise to involve the public, but that they had failed to award a contract to a developer who was putting its own money into the project.

At the Friday night panel discussion, Council Member Mason was asked the following:
“The Roanoke Times has been pointed in its criticism of Council’s just barely legal methods of discussing business outside of the Council Chambers. What are you personally doing to improve this situation?”

Let us examine the question first. The person who submitted it was taking for granted that Ms. Mason was doing something to change things. Obviously she figured as a woman, Ms. Mason was likely to be more sensitive to the will of the public and the criticism of the fourth estate. Notice also that the question acknowledged that the discussions were legal – barely, but legal. (I have no doubt they have Mr. Hackworth to thank for that. He’s a diligent kind of guy.)

Now let me relate that Ms. Mason was the consummate politician in her response. She did not refer to the strings of telephone calls that routinely take place to insure a council majority, nor did she refer to the emails that just skirt the legality of the situation. Rather, she credited Mr. Hackworth for seeing to it that they went into executive session for matters such as personnel decisions and to discuss contracts so that they could maintain the upper hand in negotiations and get the taxpayers the best deals possible.

What’s wrong with this answer and why were the cynics in the group so well rewarded?

For one thing, it’s clear she’s playing on a Little League team where the boys set the rules and she’s going along with them. For another, she knew good and well that the paper was saying Council wasn’t involving the public in the process of deciding how money should or should not be spent. Council was not allowing the public the opportunity to weigh in on the site for the amphitheater, and that these exclusionary tactics are likely to unseat the current mayor and jeopardize the anointed candidates to Council.

Earlier in the week I had made my decision, somewhat reluctantly, to support former mayor David Bowers in his campaign to return as the Star City’s mayor. Reluctant only because he’s backed the wrong horses a few times. But then another thing happened that got my attention.

I was patronized by City Manager Darlene Burcham, as were all the other people present at the business meeting of the AAUW of VA convention. She spoke to us “as a woman balancing career and family,” She never in a million years would have given that kind of namby-pamby baloney to a group of businessmen visiting our community. I know she thought she was sticking to our theme of the balancing act, but it was so patronizing that I wanted to stand up and say, “What the hell do you mean your grandkids are allowed to barge in on official meetings? What kind of business are you running down there on my nickel? We don’t pay you to play grandma on the city’s time! You’d fire a city employee for doing that and don’t say you wouldn’t! The entire city knows how you run city hall!”

That did it. I shot off an email to Mr. Bowers, reminded him of my loyalty in the past, and gave him permission to plant one of his bright yellow signs in my yard, along with a few admonishments. (Old school teachers always do that kind of thing.)

I want progress on City Council, but I also want public input into the projects that are going to cost the taxpayers. I want the city to be cost-efficient, but I also want our residents to have the services they deserve. The amphitheater is window dressing. We already have the Jefferson Center, the Civic Center and the high school stadiums for venues. We need better bus routes, we need services closer to the VA for our homeless veterans, and we need economic development.

My one caution to Mr. Bowers is this: do not align yourself with that other guy seeking to retain his seat on council. As a city teacher, I was bitten by that snake on more than one occasion. If I have to bring you an entire contingent of teachers and past school board members who know the truth about him, I will. Pay attention, Mr. Bowers. Do your homework and you’ll soon be cutting ribbons again.

14 April 2008

The convention is over, the Friday night program grabbed a lot of positive feedback and the Herb Society’s tea in honor of Don Haney and Tom Hamlin went swimmingly. Today the “Breckinridge Retired Teachers Association” met for lunch and now it’s time to take a deep breath and get started on the next project.

I spent a little time catching up with the local news last night and this morning. Here in the Star City we are in the midst of local elections for mayor and city council. A few years back, we elected a team of independents who campaigned on the platform of progressive change for the city. It was a good idea at the time, however that team no longer listens to anyone besides the city manager and a select few businesspeople. Certainly not the voters!

Here is the thing that I have been mulling. It’s a social justice issue, but it’s also an economic issue: Public transportation.

Friends of mine who work for non-profits tell me that the single biggest problem they have in job placement for their clients is transportation. It isn’t just a city issue, but a regional issue. Some of the prospective employers are located in pockets not served by Valley Metro. Worse, third shift workers do not have benefit of public transportation.

With gasoline at record highs and no end in sight, even those who own cars are hard pressed to use them for long distances. Public transportation must be the solution and the problem is how to make local officials see this as an integral part of our community’s well-being.

At our panel discussion, Council Member Mason said she thought Valley Metro was doing a good job of making sure the elderly had services. However, an informal poll of the delegation from the Roanoke Valley did not agree. In my own case, were I to take a job downtown, I would have to take a lovely walk to the end of my street to U.S. 221, which I would have to cross without benefit of a traffic light, and then I’d have to hike up a hill that doesn’t have a sidewalk. The bus stop nearest my home is across the highway from the Shenandoah Life home office. There is no way an elderly person with any infirmities could do that. I don’t even want to do it!

People living on the edge of economic viability need to be able to get to jobs. Often the better paying ones are in the areas not served, such as in Roanoke County. Additionally, often the entry-level positions are third shift hours, when there are no buses even if the business is on a bus route. What I want to see is some intensive regional cooperation in extending the reach of the transportation system. If we can put together a regional package for the Smart Bus that goes back and forth to the New River Valley, then it stands to reason we can have that kind of teamwork to help those who live here and need a ride to work.

If we can fork over the money to have a free bus from the hospital to the city market, for well-paid Carilion staff, then we should be doing better when it comes to getting our working poor to work.

11 April 2008

Herban Sprawl is likely to be quiet for the next few days. The AAUW-VA convention is here in the Star City for the weekend and yours truly will be busy with her program tonight and attending the workshops the rest of the weekend.

American Association of University Women is worth Googling and one of these days, when I get around to reading this WordPress for Dummies book that’s staring me in the face, I’ll figure how to post links (and pictures, Kay).

Meanwhile, tonight’s program, which I will be moderating, is Gender Politics: The Balancing Act. Our committee was honored to be asked to provide this program, and if the questions submitted by our members are any indication, the discussion will be lively and thought-provoking.

Meanwhile, I have a thought for the residents of the Star City: council elections are getting interesting. Think outside the box. When I get clear of this weekend’s activities, I’ll have much more to say on the subject. Let’s just say this old broad’s patience has worn thin and it’s time to start aiming that 7th grade teacher “look” at a few embarrassments.

Have a great weekend - Talk atcha soon!

10 April 2008

We had a wonderful sunny Hump Day yesterday and I dropped everything and went outside to weed. As a middle-aged gardener, I guess I’ve learned a thing or two over the years. What gives me a big smile, though, is when I learn something new.

I was perched on my hill, cleaning out what used to be my prairie garden. The Stella d’Oros needed to be cleaned out and I was careful to weed around the purple coneflowers. I also was careful with what I think might be Queen of the Prairie. If it is, it has migrated a bit, but the leaves do look right. I guess I’ll know soon enough. Suddenly I heard a big bird racket. Looked up and here were two red-bellied woodpeckers playing cops and robbers in the neighbor’s tree.

Sometimes it’s a good thing to just sit back and enjoy nature. I couldn’t help but wish I had my camera with me, but then I would have been too busy to just watch them. Paying attention, I have learned, is always a good idea. Paying attention to one’s body is very, very smart. I had already huffed and puffed to the top with a load of rose branches that I’d stabbed and carried with the manure fork. (It’s a good idea to do the really hard stuff first and get it over with.)

Being vigilant while scooping up mulch with the manure fork is also advisable. You can do some real damage if you twist the wrong way. And, this being the South, using a euphemism for a manure fork is also smart. Mulch spreader is what the sign said at the hardware store. Sure.

My lower back isn’t yelling at me, so I must have done something right today. I dragged two big ole contractor bags to the curb, and that was tough work. They weren’t even full, but I knew enough to cut my losses because Big Kitty’s aches and pains don’t need one more insult. All told, it was a productive day.

A few years back Stephanie gave me a glorious Michael Graves garden bag. I can’t bring myself to use it for its purpose because I don’t want to get it dirty. Instead, I dug out a little bag that is just large enough for my field journal, pen, Fresh Produce go cup, a pack of Kleenex and the camera. Next time the woodpeckers give me a show, I’ll be ready!

6 April 2008

I went to the dentist today for the semi-annual cleaning and check-up. When it comes to dentists, I have to say I have been luckier than most, and as a result, I never mind going. The current one is really the coolest of the cool, though. I call him Dr. Birkenstock.

Dr.B. is a tree-huggin’ modern kind of dentist. He cheerily proclaimed, “I love teeth!” to me this morning, and it’s true. He volunteers his time and services to bring dental care to the far corners of the earth. He teaches dentistry, and he was busy pulling all the metal out our mouths before we had sense enough to ask for it. I don’t have crowns. I have inlays. They cost a ton, but so far I’ve avoided the business of root canals and other atrocities to the mouth. I credit Dr. Birkenstock with keeping on top of this, and with staying ahead of the curve on technique.

This morning he said he’s been working with the group that opposes developing the land on the Star City’s most visible natural asset: Mill Mountain. The thing about Mill Mountain is that it is home to  the giant neon star. All previous attempts at commercial ventures up there have failed. The last big thing was an old hotel called Rockledge Manor, and it burned to the ground. Some say it was a blessing.

I haven’t said anything about my position on this issue in this space but I think I owe it to my terrific tooth guy and the others he’s working with (some are well-known to me) to speak up. And here it is: putting a restaurant up there is a dumb idea. The little SoRo snots who dreamed up this goofy idea (probably over martinis) are from families that have always gotten their way in this town. Don’t ask me why – it isn’t like they are particularly the cream of the crop or anything. So they think that if they have suggested it as a way to ‘keep our young people here in Roanoke’ then the city fathers and mother should jump at this opportunity. Noblesse oblige and all that.

The heirs of the gentleman who donated the land to the city have said they don’t favor the plan. All hinges on their blessing. If they have a lick of sense they’ll turn down any development up there. The star is enough of a man-made blight, but it grows on you. The zoo manages, but life isn’t easy for them up there, either.

The kids changed what they are calling their grand scheme – it’s now a community center, but that’s only to go along with some of the language in Mr. Fishburn’s bequest. Bottom line is that it’s a restaurant. Aside from the environmental problems this poses, there are also some practical considerations such as how to get food service up that mountain road when the parkway is closed and the way up from town is impassable.

Remembering that this town virtually shuts down at Robin Reed’s mere mention of a possible snow shower, it seems unlikely that trucks bearing produce, meat, fish and seafood, and other important groceries are going to be able to grind up there with any facility. And there is no way to know in advance that the wedding party can’t get up there because of an ice storm.

Beyond that, the economy is in the cellar right now. The focus needs to be on making sure we have jobs for everyone, that our schools are properly funded, and that we have enough teachers to go around. We need to take care of more pressing issues than this. We have struggling arts organizations that need help – these are the things that those young ‘uns need to spend their energy and spare change on. Never mind cocktails on a deck on our mountain.

6 April 2008

Well, it’s déjà vu all over again, here in the Star City, where the City Council spends too much time on the phone –with each other – and the view is obstructed by the interests of a handful of businesses. This time around, it is the gentleman they selected to replace the defrocked councilman who ran up his city charge account and was asked to resign.

The nominee is a really great guy, as it happens, and as it also happens, it isn’t like he didn’t know the conflict of interest bells were going to be tolling all over town. I’m sorry it’s happened, but then again, that’s what happens when you have the blind leading the blind on Council. The part that puzzles me is the city attorney’s role in this.

First off, let me say, I have had my differences with Mr. Hackworth, but it was never over issues pertaining to his job. As far as I have been able to tell, he’s done his job very well. And that’s what’s got my eyebrow raised inquisitively. Either they totally ignored his advice and nominated Mr. Nash anyway, or for some reason, he missed the critical matters with regard to how Mr. Nash earns his living and how that precluded him from being selected to serve on Council. I wonder if they’re all busy watching Gene Kelly and Ann Miller movies, because it’s clear to me they’re gonna be doing some tricky footwork to get out of this mess!

The cynic in me says they did this on purpose so they could turn around and nominate another candidate who was actually better suited to follow along with them and would help them keep their misguided majority. The optimist in me says they will do the right thing and ask Mr. Nash to please accept their apologies, but they will need to rescind the nomination. The pessimist says they will jump through all sorts of hoops to get a variance so he can serve. If that’s the case, they definitely have something up their sleeves that the taxpayers will not like. The Mayor’s reading of Sin in the Second City was superfluous. He needs to read Boss by Mike Royko, because if he’s making Hizzoner da Late Mare his role model, he can’t let the city manager run the machine for him. Even that dope Mikie Bilandic knew that!

Meanwhile, the bloggers are having a field day with this, and sometimes I wonder if Council’s sole purpose at this point is to provide entertainment for us. If that’s the case, they need to hire some better writers. Any volunteers?

5 April 2008

I spent a nippy Friday working on a project for the Herb Society talk I’ll be doing later in the month. I was doing a net search for a few items and while I was at it, downloaded the current season catalogs from The Mecca of Bureau County, Hornbaker Gardens and DeBaggio Herbs. The former is where Uncle Doc takes me for my annual R&R trip, and the latter is an herb grower’s paradise.

I noted that Tom DeBaggio has, in spite of the debilitations of his Alzheimer’s, written another book, When It Gets Dark. In her article, One Writer’s Legacy, Madonna Dries Christensen says that Tom would spend an hour and sometimes more trying to remember a word he needed and how to spell it. I have his first book, Losing My Mind. I haven’t read it yet. I know I’ll cry a lot.

At age 57, the once vibrant, wiry man with the salt and pepper hair and mustache and twinkling Italian eyes was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Noah Adams from NPR has been following the case and last interviewed the family a year ago this month. Why Tom DeBaggio you might wonder?

He was a newspaper writer who left that profession to follow his heart - he began to grow herbs for a living. On the tiny lot in Arlington he managed to cram in a greenhouse and sales area. He wrote wonderful articles for the fledgling Herb Companion, and the catalogs for his herb business always had a great piece by “Old Peeps.” A shy man, he became an authority of rosemary varieties, even propagating a few of his own varieties. He wrote a number of good books on herbs, the last being a huge tome he wrote with Art Tucker, The Big Book of Herbs.

This is the year I’d like to make a pilgrimage to the current DeBaggio Herbs in Louden County. The last time I was there was with Anna. They had just opened that location and it was pretty wonderful. I came back with a number of pelargoniums. (Scented geraniums for you lay people.) It’s time to go again and to feel the spirit of Tom.

In our world of plants, the late Adelma Simmons stands at the top of the mountain, an elfin woman with an iron will and big ideas. Oh, yes, there were others, but she made herbs commercially popular. Tom DeBaggio took herb growing to the next level, horticulturally, and it is to him that I owe my own perseverance at gardening. His articles inspired me and when I had the chance to tell him about one in particular, I was rewarded with those “gypsy eyes’

Today is the grand opening and sale at Walters’ Greenhouse, the herb mecca here in the Star City region. I need a few things, but I really do have to save my cash for a trip to Louden. Oh, Clar-iii-ice! Call the tanker and fill up the Cadillac!

4 April 2008

You see all kinds at Wally World. Here in the Star City we several from which to choose, but the one that has the most interesting clientele is the one that sits between our two power zipcodes. The last time I was there, I saw a woman with a pair of red stiletto heeled boots that had leather bows running in a spiral up the leg. They were clearly Italian. I could almost smell and feel the buttery texture. She even had a matching bag. But I gotta say, those stilettos stole the show – had to be 4 or more inches.

Then there was the bleach blonde (she needs Remona – her dye jobs are much more subtle) in the white Benz, waiting for a space next to the handicapped spaces, blocking all the traffic. Red Rocket has been to Chicago enough to have gotten an attitude. She slipped by the po’ thang who wasn’t going to be able to walk more than ten feet to the door, and into a spot three away. I was in and doing serious damage before she even got parked.

The purpose of my latest visit was a 3-way compact fluorescent bulb. I’d just seen the power bill from since I’ve been down here in Ten Cornstalk Studio, painting and making cards and generally having fun. I quite literally sucked in my breath and waited for a thunderbolt from Mom. (“Whaddya think I’m doing? Working for Illinois Power?”) I don’t like these bulbs because I don’t think they’re as bright. I also never turn on the fluorescent ceiling lights. I get headaches from them. So, I am switching out my incandescents for these stupid things and hoping for the best. I can’t change the full-spectrum bulbs over my drawing table, however, because they give me the best light to see color. Unfortunately, I think they may be the culprits in the power usage.

We were having one of those rainy days where the rain is mostly an annoyance and you wish it would just come down steadily, heavily and thoroughly. It was a good day to be down here with projects, and having to go to Lowe’s, Wally and Staples was inconvenient. I’m on my third package of 200 page protectors for the paper clutter project (recipes, dontcha know), and when it brightens up, I will need contractor bags for the yard detritus.

Yeah, yeah, here I am, going green with my light bulbs and then buying 42 gal. 3 mil contractor bags for my weeds. Bags that will decompose when my great niece is a great great grandmother!

Well, I hate it when I drag them over surfaces that tear them and then the weeds go everywhere. And furthermore, I’m going to swipe some tie wraps from Big Kitty because I can’t find twist ties that are long enough to go around these big boys. Who knows. Maybe an archeologist will find compost in them some day!

My last item was a gift for the hostas: a giant bag of diatomaceous earth, a particularly hateful substance if you are a slug. I owe the hostas about four years worth of favors, so there it is.

3 April 2008
I went outside yesterday to cut back my horribly messy Apothecary’s roses before they got going too far. It became a bit of an ‘and then and then’ project, but not really. Instead I found my mind wandering, as it does when I garden, and I also found many surprises to delight me.

I had just migrated to the herb garden and was filling a contractor’s trash bag with weeds and dead junk. I was cleaning the Bergartten sage and thinking how I would never, ever get those nice mounds like at Buffalo Springs. Then I noticed my old “sage ordinaire.” Last year I had whacked him back ruthlessly and this season he’s looking very, very nice. He’s about 20 years old, so I consider myself fortunate he’s still willing to hang in there with me.

I was weeding in the herbs last summer when I realized I had a companion – a box turtle. I had been watching the Rosemary and Thyme series from Netflix, so I named her for Rosemary Boxer. Later in the summer she had gone uphill a bit and I nearly stepped on her when I was cleaning out another bed. I moved her back to the herbs and that’s when I saw that her rear left foot had been mangled. A little net search also told me she was the culprit in taking single bites of my maters! I wonder if Rosemary will return. Tim Belcher says she likely will move on. I’m going to keep an eye out for her, though and if she comes back, I think I will dig a shallow hole for a plastic saucer and make her a little wading pool.

After a while, a failed effort to drag the rose canes to the top of the hill for trash pick-up caused me to give up a little and I just wandered around to see what was what. It wasn’t long before I dashed back inside for a field journal. The list of what had emerged is long – hostas, daylilies, tarragon, Oriental and Asiatic lilies, aquilegia, acchillea, echinacea, campion, centaurea ‘Montana,’ forget-me-nots, sweet woodruff, nepeta, coreopsis, rudbeckia, liatris, muscari…

I had just finished admiring the hostas, popping up in their pots, yet again, when I turned to see if the bleeding heart had emerged. No, but there was the lily of the valley I had carefully nicked from the front yard of my childhood home. Once upon a time it had been growing on the east side of my grandmother’s house, in a patch of hostas. The hostas I dug up never made it, but there were her lilies.

That’s when I decided to make my annual Marfisa Memorial Violet nosegay. I had to hunt around because last year I did too good a job in eradicating them! I had been dumping grass clippings along one side of our house in order to kill weeds the cheap and easy way. Well, I didn’t kill anything much – they’d emerged but the downside was that I didn’t have many violet blooms and the sweet heart-shaped leaves were a little small. Mom used to put hers in a little crystal and silver cigarette urn. I put mine in a little cut glass vase we got as a wedding gift.

My yard is still a mess, but there’s time. The violets smell divine!