blueberry dreams
In the paraphrased words of T. Boone Pickens, “We own 3% of the oil reserves in the World yet we use 20% of the World’s oil. We can’t drill our way out of our dependency on foreign oil.” That is the simplest statement yet made concerning the problem – and from a wildcatter and newly-minted leader in energy technology, no less. If nothing else sticks in your craw when it comes to this particular issue during this election season, remember the harbinger: we can’t drill our way out.
L. has moved onto her second week of summer day camp. Last week’s Whirlygigs and Wild Things run by the Smithsonian received mediocre reviews. If I were to guess, I’d say she’d give it a B. I think she enjoyed riding the Metro to camp everyday more than the camp itself. Now that it’s over I can tell you that she successfully rode from West Falls Church to the Smithsonian all by herself every morning. That’s not something you can reveal early on because people worry. I know from my Omaha-Chicago Amtrak trips in the late 70s that kids can function just fine on their own; we can even catch cabs at the train station and find our way to the North side.
This week she’s doing digital movies and claymation at the Sidwell School in NW DC. Unfortunately, there’s no Metro stop nearby so we’re driving her into the heart of the D.C. beast each morning to drop her off in the golden Mercedes. After the first day it’s apparent this camp is much more to her liking, at least if one were to base it on her excitement yesterday afternoon.
X has gone off this morning to buy some blueberry plants. We looked at some scruffy, street-wise plants last weekend but her initial impression was to bypass them and look around some more this week. It wasn’t until we were at least three blocks away from those scrubs that she realized maybe they were what she wanted all along – tough, hardscrabble plants. I tend to agree because if these plants were sitting in a Home Depot parking lot sprouting blueberries then they must be quality. I don’t think you want to buy specially raised, manicured, soft suburban blueberry plants. Much like me, once they are taken away from the comfortable life they’ve led they tend to get grumpy. Updates to follow.
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