The Beauty of Conquest

As promised, I took Gavin and Lael to Fort Nisqually yesterday. I’ve been there before, but I was still quite impressed by their garden, particularly that the garden which is supposedly “authentic” contained these beautiful flowers:

It felt eerie to look up from the flowers to see the cannon standing guard over them from the watchtower:

Is it reassuring or troubling that these outposts of civilization brought flowers thousands of miles for their garden? How could someone who loved such beauty so viciously exploit the local Indians?

Alien or Predator?

I have more than enough trouble trying to keep up my yard, so I don’t readily volunteer to take care of anyone else’s yard, but since I had to take care of Dawn and Rich’s yard, I thought I’d take some pictures while I was watering.

I don’t know what this flower is, but I’m strangely fond of it — though I’m not exactly sure what that might reveal about me and my personality.

Her Majesty

I’m beginning to remember why I gradually slipped out of the practice of meditating regularly and why many religions don’t allow their ministers or monks to have families.

It’s hard to serve more than one master at a time.

I haven’t managed to meditate once since the grand kids have come to stay. By the time Lael decides that she’s willing to go to sleep, I’m ready for bed, too.

I also know why she’s been so slow to learn to talk. She doesn’t need to. She simply points her hand to indicate what she wants and mumbles “directions” until you fetch what she wants.

If you decide she shouldn’t have what she wants, you’ve got an entirely different problem, one that’s likely to keep you awake at night.

Do I have to say, “I’m Lovin’ It!?”