In the midnight hour she cried "Moore, Moore, Moore"
This whole issue over whether or not the decision to give Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11" the Palm D'Or was political or not is a little silly. Everyone knows that Quentin Tarantino adores movies and has little or no interest in politics. He would be hard pressed to conjur up Kerry's first name. So why the speculation? http://www.ohio.com/mld/ohio/living/8781630.htm?1c
I cannot remember a time when the country was so polarized politically. The extent of extreme negative feeling and verging on fanatical positive feeling for Bush floors me. Where are the sound and civilized center voices? In Los Angeles, the support for Kerry is being whipped up with a fervor usually reserved for religious figures (did you see that the dear old Pope called America a "soul-less" place today - well, duh!) People are coming out of the woodwork, snapping themselves out of their apathy to lend support and the mighty $$$ to ensure that their lives will no longer be determined by our favorite good ol' boy nutjob currently residing in the White House. And who can blame them? Our fearless leaders -- Dubya and Arnie. Ouch. My English friends are (quite rightly so) laughing at me.

ps. I like this blogging so much that I can hardly stop myself -- will it be as addictive as my camera phone I wonder?

American Idol-ize
Minx was thrilled to see herself on American Idol. Only one hour and eleven minutes into the show, and there she is, grining and waving and jumping up and down in her little orange skirt, right behind that hideously likeable Ryan Seacrest. Little thing, all excited to see Fantay-zee-aah, screaming till she was hoarse. And Fantasia didn't let us down... she sang, and I had goosebumps and rubbed my arms, hoping no-one would notice, but Ned did, and he looked at me and rolled his eyes, (as one does when one is fourteen and one's mother is a "complete dork"). It does slightly worry me that Minky thinks that Ryan Seacrest is hot. I mean, he isn't. He is about the most bland embodiment of mediocrity this side of cheese wiz. WITH hair gel. But then again, what do I know? I think that guy from The Darkness is hot.

Olive Trees and Flax
Today, the Friday of Memorial Weekend, I have temporarily staved off insanity with olive trees, white roses and dark red flax. Fruit trees too, layered one by one on the hillside, meyer lemon and orange and guava and plum. They are frail and somewhat pathetic now but will grow big and strong by next year. Olive trees are soothing. The color is soothing, that pale mossy gray-green, and the sounds of the leaves in the breeze...just a slight whistle. I climbed onto the dirt-covered hillside and surveyed the trees from my new vantage-point, as my feet sank into the dirt and for once I felt connected to something. Immature apricots serve as perfect throw toys for the dogs and we amused ourselves that way, the dogs and I, me sitting in the dirt and throwing hard green apricots and the dogs running after them and bringing them back to me breathless and smiling. The spotted dog is an idiot. Of this I'm sure. But the most charismatic, charming idiot ever. She grins at me and spins in circles and groans in pleasure when I touch her. The spotted dog is my friend. I pick her up in my arms and she dangles their, like a colt, awkward and miserable and desperate to please, with legs akimbo and the smile never leaving her face. Spotted dogs come from God. There is no doubt. Spotted dogs, olives, flax, hard green apricots and the whistling wind.

What on earth is the whistling wind?

Lisa has a parrot called Scarlett. A bright green bird that whistles like a street sweeper in London at girls in short skirts. Of course, vanity-thy-name-is-woman I turned round, surprised and eyelashes batting, thinking a man was indeed whistling at me! I'm about as nutty as my dog. Maybe that's why I feel I understand her.

Can we discuss my undying fascination with the brilliance of the human mind? Not mine, of course, but in general? Or is that another topic?

We must focus on tomorrow's picnic. Fried chicken and crabcakes and meatloaf and potato salad I'm thinking. Lovely thick homemade mayonnaise over sweet little new potatoes, and some chives on top? Sweet potato fries. Lebanese cucumbers. Sweet tomato sald with that rich green virgin olive oil. I love olive oil. Swirled it into Trader Joe's hummus last night and made it taste perfectly middle eastern and exotic.

Spotted dog: