Partly closed buildings exhibit unexpected signs to herd the after-hours crowd, at least around here, gently.
I confess that I read GWTW at least twice and maybe three times before I was twenty, and mostly for the racy, romantic parts. Much of the rest went right by me.
Tonight I listened to four interesting contemporary women authors discuss Scah-lett, Melanie, the guys, and Margaret’s characters in general, along with other topics related to the book, over at the Atlanta History Center, which is currently showcasing Peggy Marsh and her MS.*
Afterwards, my chauffeur took me home down Peachtree, which was the perfect cap for the evening.
* I couldn’t photograph Peggy’s desk, which would have been my choice for tonight’s visual; it’s tiny, perfect for the closet where she stored it in their small apartment in a building on Peachtree. The desk, quite properly, is front-and-center in the exhibit.
I’m hopeful again. I found a perfect bloom on one pepper plant!
Page One, the documentary about the NYTimes and new media, etc.…
Opening nationwide on Friday. Worth your time.
However, the discussants we heard tonight after the movie did not grasp the crucial issue of how Internet news consumers are to tell if what is out there to be read is true, partly true, totally agenda-driven—where the content is along that continuum.
I proposed to my audience of one that perhaps True Journalists could get a seal or special flag like your bank has for online transactions. Opens a can of worms, of course, but it’s better than the panel’s answer: consumers will need to be discerning.
Not. An. Answer.
Even if that’s the way it plays out, it’s not a good scenario.
Visual miscellany from recent road-time….
I apologize for being distracted by this-and-that all day, and not preparing adequately for making my daily entry.
I think this is Japanese yew (Taxus cuspidata). This specimen is sure productive early in the summer season, but I guess it takes a while for the fruit to mature.
I see colorful blotches headed our way…and I’m hearing the first sky-audio. No lightning yet out the window, but the meteorological maps show it’s a matter of time.
Overnight rain decorated the redbud leaves (and more), magnifying pores and veins.
Anyway, it kept the heat at bay for a while. Steamily, but not…as hot…as fast.
I held out such hope for my peppers this year, but apparently a crop is not to be.
Shrunken raisiny-wrinkled, olive pit-sized fruit do not edibles make.
I had wondered if we had enough bees to pollinate the flowers, but apparently that’s not the problem.
Totally different celebration this evening, this time at our place. So, long story short, we celebrated with a friend temporarily holed up at our place, with a version of this cacciatora.
One of The Most Elegant birthday cakes I’ve ever had—strawberry-whipped cream white cake. Oh, yum.
What does it mean that the fennel has fallen atop the bee balm—and now the bees are on the fennel blooms and not the bee balm?
This is the third summer for the fennel, which we did not grow in mid-Michigan gardens. Of course, it is only in its third summer because I have not harvested the bulbs.
I’m not used to vegetables that overwinter.