Invigoration and enervation...

Okay, I didn't post last Saturday. But we were there lifting, toting, bending, scooping, pushing and pulling. Art is turning over the whole dang thing about 12" down. He got through about 1/4 in 90 minutes of intensive grunting. I -- on the other hand -- did rake-out duty to separate weedies from earth and level things a bit before Art turns all that over...I'm sure it makes sense somehow.

I like this woman's sign.

Off home we ran to shower then head for our Downtown LA Peace March. Our first! We are generally quiet people (no laughing!) so we felt pretty out of our element. To alleviate our timidness at yelling our feelings about this atrocious [blood for oil] business, I drafted us into a drill team called the "Marching Waitresses." Although there wasn't a waitress that I could find it was silly enough to get attention. We wore red and white polk-a-dot aprons. Here was the first part our call out/call back:

We are marching waitresses
Serving our country and land
The best way we can fill our goal
Is bring our soldiers home!

Youngsters and oldsters were there, but no families -- no in-betweenies. It got me to thinking that we are as a country certainly upset by this war, but we aren't losing sons (and daughters) in a draft like we were in Viet Nam.

I remember my mom was a Goldwater Republican but declared she'd move my two younger brothers to Canada before she'd let them be drafted. Fortunately, she never had to face that choice. But many did.

Now with our all-volunteer army, we don't feel like we're losing 'personally'. We have to believe this war is personal somehow or there will never be the fervent outcry big enough and loud enough to stop it and then help Iraq some other, less ravaging, way out of the mess we've made for them.

Hmmmm...Gardening and whirled peas. You get it all right here.