Wednesday morning brought more rain. The good news is we need rain, and it is forecast to end by early morning. I hope to try out the new mower in the garden if it’s dry enough. I’m way behind in the garden now, so we’ll plant what we can.
I went trail walking in the early morning mist for my health. If I can get my heart beating fast enough, for long enough, it is adequate exercise for a person like me. I don’t tire of photographing what I see, so this familiar part of the trail stood out today.
Editor’s Note: Another short post so I can spend time elsewhere. Thanks for reading.
It was raining Monday morning so I drove to Monticello to pick up two 50-pound bags of garden fertilizer. It’s the same locally composted chicken manure I’ve been using since working on the farms, called Healthy Grow 2-4-3. I tried other types of fertilizer and the granulated format makes application easy. I don’t do the science of testing soil pH and selecting an appropriate fertilizer. Basically, I am doing monkey work by mimicking what successful vegetable growers have done at farms where I worked. The yield and quality of produce improved after I began using this fertilizer.
When I arrived at the warehouse, no one was around. I called ahead to determine if they had what I wanted. The trip is 35.3 miles one-way and I didn’t want to make it for nothing. When no person picked up the phone, I went anyway, taking a chance someone would be there. The main building was wide open, so I looked around. I walked through the office and warehouse and found no one. Despite about 20 vehicles in the lot, only two employees were there across the yard where a truck was being loaded. A driver was in his cab picking up a truckload of fertilizer. He asked me what I wanted and I told him. He said they would take care of it.
The office person loaded the truck, made necessary bills of lading, and dispatched the driver. He said it was their busiest day of the year and that he would get my fertilizer. Eventually another office person arrived and did my paperwork while the first loaded the two bags in the back seat of my car. I enjoy this annual pilgrimage to Monticello. What could be better on a rainy day?
It rained all day Monday and the forecast Tuesday was more of the same. The electric mower arrived Monday, so I’ll get that ready for use when the rain lets up. It was a concession to the fact I am aging, and can’t drive the John Deere on the steep side of the road without increased risk of a flip over. With the proper tool, it should be a safer mowing experience.
When it rains I am concerned about the downspouts from the roof getting clogged and flooding the window well on the east side of the house. With all the maple tree seeds flying around, it has gotten clogged previously. When I return from trail walking, I am sure to inspect the roof from the driveway to assess the amount of fallen seeds. Looks like everything went through the downspout so far. As I age, I try to avoid climbing up a ladder to clean the gutters. So far, I am down to once or twice per year. Would like to get that down to zero yet good help is hard to find.
Our community well was out of commission on Monday, which means I got out the large Rubbermaid drinking water container and placed it next to the kitchen sink for handwashing. I also got a gallon jug of store-bought drinking water to use in cooking and for coffee. We tried to use as little water as possible so we didn’t drain the lines. If the community does drain them, there is a public health procedure to follow to make sure unwanted bacteria doesn’t get into the lines and therefore into our vulnerable, unwitting bodies.
As I write on Tuesday morning, my main worries are getting out on the trail between rain showers for a walk. There are plenty of indoor chores to do, including a larger than usual amount of dishes for cleaning because of the water shortage. We actually need the rain, even if I’d rather get the rest of our garden in first.
Not sure what I will do the rest of Tuesday. There is plenty of work, so it will boil down to the most pressing chores. Rainy day or not, answering the question “what’s most important in our lives” is a constant activity. One we should relish while we can answer it.
My electric lawn mower was delayed in shipment. Instead of arriving today, it will be tomorrow. I attempted mowing the garden plot using a trimmer, but it doesn’t get the job done. I will clear off the weed barriers to reuse and be ready when the mower does arrive. I need to think a bit before planting this large plot, anyway.
Toward the west will be cucumbers and summer squash. That much is decided. There are green beans for direct seeding, so there will be a row of those. I need to put celery somewhere. I have chard plants started but not in the ground. The hot peppers and tomatoes aren’t big enough to transplant. I guess I will walk the ground, then walk in the greenhouse and the solution will become obvious.
Below the plastic weed barrier is a life seldom seen. Bugs, ultra-soft earth, evidence of rodents and worms everywhere. Starts of plants went nowhere because of a lack of light. The soil made me sneeze as I unintentionally breathed it in. The weather has been perfect for gardening. Except for a quick trip to town to get a lottery ticket, I was at it all day. I was immersed in it. It was spring, as good as it gets.
Saw this family on the trail Tuesday morning. Spring is definitely here!
Our family was discussing whether or not to stock up on things we commonly use like toilet paper, dried pasta, canned beans, rice, tomato sauce, water and coffee. I hear there may be shortages due to the president’s trade policies. The way we provision in normal times is to constantly have a buffer of pantry items on hand in case we can’t get to the store for a couple of weeks. We didn’t go crazy, yet we won’t run out of toilet tissue or pasta any time soon.
The Congress delayed markup of the reconciliation bill until next week. Bits and pieces are becoming known with the biggest question being what they will do with Medicaid. I wrote Rep. Mariannette Miller-Meeks Tuesday afternoon:
I urge you to avoid changing Medicaid using the reconciliation process. Everyone knows Medicaid reforms are needed. Any changes in Medicaid should be accomplished in regular order in a bipartisan manner. Thank you for reading my email.
At 3:04 p.m. the same day her office responded as follows:
Dear Mr. Deaton, Thank you for contacting me to express your support for Medicaid. Views from fellow Iowans help inform and guide me in Congress, so I greatly appreciate your insight and opinion.
As a physician and former Director of the Iowa Department of Public Health, I understand the crucial role healthcare plays in our lives. I am committed to working with my colleagues in Congress to ensure that state Medicaid programs have the resources they need to help people in need while ensuring the long-term financial viability of this necessary healthcare program.
To that end, I have been working on legislation that will strengthen and streamline Medicaid, such as:
H.R. 1019, the Medicaid Program Improvement Act, which would improve the accuracy and reliability of address information for Medicaid beneficiaries, ensuring seamless access to healthcare services while reducing the chances of people being enrolled in multiple state Medicaid programs.
H.R. 1509, the Accelerating Kids’ Access to Care Act, which would streamline the process for out-of-state pediatric care providers to enroll in another state’s Medicaid program to reduce care delays, while also safeguarding important program integrity measures.
In Congress, I will continue fighting to ensure Iowans have quality access to healthcare.
Thank you again for contacting me. If there is anything I can do to be of assistance, or if you would like to receive my e-newsletter, please visit MillerMeeks.house.gov. You can also follow me on Facebook at facebook.com/RepMMM and on Twitter @RepMMM. Again, I thank you for your opinion and look forward to serving you. Please do not hesitate to contact my office in the future.
She didn’t really address my concern, yet at least someone in their office noted my email. Not holding my breath about “regular order.” Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what kind of partisan cuts Republicans will make when the markup is finished.
I may need another walk along the state park trail.
There is a golden spring season from the appearance of first buds to full leafing out of deciduous trees, flowers, and bushes. Later in May, insects descend upon us and start spoiling the pure beauty of trees especially, but every living plant in our yard. A gardener does the best they can to keep them away from the good stuff. The fragrance and beauty of lilacs is a fleeting spring pleasure.
Spring shows us where nature is if we have the eyes and mind to see it. Our Autumn Blaze maple tree was damaged in the 2020 derecho, and the years since then have taken their toll.The bark is shedding around the main trunk, and there are cracks in the trunk where the derecho twisted the tree around in high winds. I suppose insects crawled into the cracks. The tree can sense something is wrong and this spring grew many more seeds than used to be normal. Their presence indicates the trauma of the derecho and that something is wrong so it needs to propagate. While I may have to climb up on the roof to clean the windblown seeds out of the gutter, the true meaning is that the time left for this tree is limited.
Autumn Blaze Maple tree with seeds on May 5, 2025.
I planted two Green Ash trees before the Emerald Ash Borer was known in popular media to be a threat. The first one succumbed last year and the second did not leaf out this spring. I examined the tree trunks and branches and the tell-tale boring holes where the insects enter underneath the bark are evident everywhere. Luckily the trees are small enough I can remove them myself.
We enjoy the lilac flowers while we can. They are truly a spring blessing.
Over the weekend I assembled the greenhouse, moved trays of seedlings from inside the house, and transplanted tomato starts from channel trays into full-sized blocks. I feel I am way behind on the garden, yet things are moving.
The first day outside is always dicey for the seedlings. It is plenty warm, but the direct sunlight can be strong on them. Lettuce is wilting a bit. I make sure the trays are well watered and cross my fingers, hoping they will recover overnight. I’ll have a better idea how everything went at sunrise this morning after ambient overnight temperatures were in the 40s.
The tray of cruciferous vegetables, kale and collards, is ready to go into the ground. The plot is cleared so I just need to turn it over, fertilize, till the ground, lay down sheets of garden cloth and plant. “Just” is doing a lot of work in this paragraph.
While I enjoy watching seeds grow into vegetables and fruit, I have been less enthusiastic about the garden this year. I plan to cut back by two plots, leaving five. When time allows, the plot by the compost bins will be converted into some kind of storage. In time, I may put up a shed for garden tools. I plan to take better care of the plots that are in production.
I am hoping to get a crop, yet also cut back on the number of varieties. I grow what I can use in the kitchen-garden rather than production of the most produce possible for its own sake. It has me looking at things differently. Any more, I put up tomato sauce and pickles in canning jars and freeze leafy green vegetables to use until the following season. If I have a big garlic or basil crop, I make pesto and freeze pureed garlic and olive oil.
I had a pain in my left hip for the last couple of weeks. Today, I relented and took two ibuprofen after breakfast. It worked. I was able to get through a four-hour shift of loading the greenhouse. I don’t like taking pain medication, but after today’s experience, I might do so again. I find it is a gardener’s friend.
This year should be a good year for apples and pears. Every tree has a lot of blooms, including the two newly planted “replacement” trees. Some days it’s good to just view this fleeting event during which we pray for frost to hold off, pollination to occur, and a bountiful crop.
Red Delicious and Earliblaze apple treesRed DeliciousClose up Red Delicious bloomsMore Red Delicious
Writing space at Five Points in Davenport, Iowa, 1980.
A writer needs a place to work. Somewhere safe, secure, and with adequate room to spread out. I’ve written in my share in public places: restaurants, coffee bars, grocery stores, and parks. These locations serve for a moment, but eventually we need to return to a home base. Since 1974, I found many of them, including my drill sergeant’s office at Fort Jackson, S.C., an apartment not far from the Mississippi River, in the lower level of the first place we lived after our wedding, and others. Five of them stand out.
Five main places I wrote, where I felt I had a writing space, are as follows: In my Bachelor Officer Quarters in Mainz, Germany; my apartment at Five Points in Davenport; my apartment on Market Street in Iowa City; in the garage behind our house when we lived in the Calumet; and finally a very long spell, maybe 30 years, in the room I built on the lower level of our home in Big Grove Township. All of them afforded reasonable quiet, and freedom to write what I wanted. I took advantage of the spaces as best I could.
After seeing the Pablo Picasso retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art in 1980, I became enraptured by his artistic process. Before his 1973 death he was exceedingly successful. David Douglas Duncan’s 1980 book Viva Picasso: A Centennial Celebration 1881-1981 depicts Picasso as he created his work. From these photographs I took inspiration for my own studio stolen from small spaces where a busy family lived.
When I lived near the main railway station in Mainz, Germany, my apartment had two large desks which I pushed together to use as a writing place. My apartment was at the end of the hall in a building called the Bachelor Officers’ Quarters. As a corner room, it was fairly quiet. My schedule had me away from garrison for two to three weeks at a time so part of what I did there was spread out mail and make sure what needed addressing was. I received and wrote a lot of letters. I had a big map of the region pinned to the wall. Next to it was a large bulletin board, and then an American flag I used when we road marched with armored equipment on the German Autobahn. While I wasn’t there much, I felt like a writer when I was.
I left the Smith Corona portable typewriter Mother gave me to use at university in storage and bought a new Olympia portable typewriter in Mainz. I used a blue three-ring, loose leaf binder to keep my journal. The chair had a straight-back, dining room-style. Behind the desk was a bookshelf I made from planks set on wine bottles I had emptied out by drinking the contents. My source of news and information was a multi-function AM-FM radio that could also receive short wave signals. I was still trying to be a musician so I bought an inexpensive guitar at a local music store. In the early years I had no telephone or television. About year into my tour of duty I went to the German phone company and had a land line hooked up, not that anyone called me while I was there. This writing space was my escape from serving in the military.
The image above is my writing space at Five Points in Davenport. I wrote previously about this apartment where I pulled my life together after serving four years in the military. I was determined to be a writer. Note the oak desk. I purchased it when I arrived in Davenport after living in Germany. It followed me until the present day, although it is used mostly for storage and layout space today.
I recently described my apartment on Market Street in Iowa City here. It was a transitional space from youth into marriage, although I had no idea that’s what it was when I lived there. I did know I was a writer.
When we lived in Indiana, the house we bought did not have space for my writing. I moved to the garage. This was problematic when it was cold because there was no insulation. I bought a construction heater and had a local propane service deliver a bottle which I leaned up against an exterior fence. It was very noisy as it burned the fuel.
I’m reading my journals from Indiana and more than any other prior period, I produced writing that stands up to the years since then. I developed the idea that a creative person had to integrate all aspects of their life into one continuous band of creativity. My garage was an escape, yet it brought together my work life, my home life, and everything else I did in the Calumet. This was a significant change.
In a discussion with our child we came up with a name for the place, The Deaton Family Workshop. I did some of my creative work on the word processor we brought from Iowa, which was located inside the house between the dining area and the living room. Still, the garage was my main creative studio.
Finally, There is my current writing space. I use a chair I bought for a dollar at an auction, and a library table inherited from the father-in-law’s estate. I described building this place in a post called, A Place to Write. It has well-served the writing process.
Each place I wrote is important. The hard part was to envision that I am a writer. Working a career in transportation and logistics distracted me from that. Now, though, I can focus on the actual writing. In the main, given a space, that’s what my life has always been about.
Today marks eleven weeks since the inauguration. Who knew we would be where we are? I’m not really sure where we are.
Of the many reckless changes the administration made, the following are most concerning to me: elimination of the Institute of Museum and Library Services; changes to the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.; threatened changes to the Smithsonian Institution; defunding NOAA; vast cuts in medical research funding; all the programmatic changes to Medicaid, Medicare and Social Security; and of course, the reconciliation bill that moved through the U.S. Senate over the weekend providing stunning tax cuts for the well-to-do in society by borrowing money to pay for them. The hits against what we once thought was good keep coming.
On Saturday, millions of people, in all 50 states, demonstrated against the administration’s changes. Crowd estimating is an inexact science yet some say 5 million people showed up. The demonstrations appeared to be peaceful. The president was busy at his golf club, so I doubt he was engaged. The resistance is getting stronger.
The government was stable under Biden. The next president introduced uncertainty about the future. There is no perceptible benefit to the increased instability and uncertainty of our government. We now have a society in which the rich get richer and the rest of us can fight over scraps. Here’s the thing, though. Out of those scraps we will make a meal to nourish and sustain us to make our lives better than we have ever had them. Above all else, we must persist on the path toward righteousness.
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