Watching the British police bash protesters over the head with billy clubs is not an edifying activity. Neither is reading about Michelle Obama’s wardrobe. Therefore I intend to skip further media’s regurgitation of events peripheral to the G20 conference. For heavens sakes, 720, 000 jobs just vanished from the American private sector and TV talking heads are discussing similarities between Mrs. Obama’s and Mme Sarkozy’s fashion style. Is something wrong with this picture?
Voltaire was right. One must cultivate one’s garden. Planting a veggie garden these troubled days is not only an economic necessity, it is a way of holding on to the sense that while the world may be out of control there at least one aspect of one’s life that is manageable–never mind the vagaries of the weather and the appettite of the resident deer herd. Today, I planted Asian veggies. Ice storms may blast my crops, Bambi may eat the lot. If that happens, I will replant. Heck, my First Lady dresses stylishly, non? What is more, she is prettier than the Queen.