Well, I sort of have 7 volunteers for tonight, so they gave us a space at the Twilight Criterium, which then becomes a need for more volunteers. Laura the intern and I were there from 6 to 10 last night and we sold $35 in raffle tickets. I could have written a check for that much and stayed home. Although maybe the publicity about the bike ride is worth something too. I had some feedback that a) the ride was on a weekend that was too busy (too many other rides, we should move it to June) and b) it should be round-trip, with rides of varying lengths, which I had also thought. So maybe no one will sign up. Two people have. This wasn't my idea; I am just helping--it was given to me the way it is and I don't know enough about bike rides to have said, "we need to change it."

Ray and I were home for a couple hours in the afternoon. He went to sleep and I had to go without him. I called my parents as I was heading out and my Mom said my Dad is really sick: diarrhea and vomiting; he thinks it's the flu. I hate to think of her trying to take care of him or clean up after him; it's just physically too hard for her. And I sure hope she doesn't get it. I meant to call again later, but it was 9:30 and I didn't want to wake her. This is why I would like them to be in a place like Talmadge Terrace; I would worry less and have less of an obligation. Now I need to go over there early this morning (how early?) and make sure everything is all right. I am not sure my Mom can even call me on the cell phone.

I was supposed to see a show at Town and Gown and go to the homecoming picnic today, plus a couple of other things. There is the farmers' market and there was a protest of the new anti-immigration law. How can people be so hateful? The young intern who was sitting with me said, "if they are illegal, they shouldn't be allowed to go to school." I said, "when your ancestors came, there probably was no such thing as legal or illegal." It seems so un-American to me to be against anyone coming in to this country. She had all sorts of stories that the immigrants in Arizona were doing criminal acts, stealing from farmers who had to patrol with guns, which is why they had to pass that law. Funny, that's not what I heard...Oh, it's so hopeless. If I can't even talk to one quasi-sympathetic young woman, how can we ever change things?

The weather is gorgeous, the garden is doing well, and I want to bake some things and clean my house. Instead, I will go sit at a table for 10 hours, trying to sell raffle tickets for a bike, talk about the race in three weeks, and be friendly.

Up and down today. The weather was gorgeous: cool and sunny and breezy, high in the low 70s, and it must have been low humidity, because it felt great. No wind damage in our yard or neighborhood that I could find.

I dropped Ray off at work about 10:30 and went to the Land Trust. A community service worker (people with DUI, mostly students, can be sentenced to community service and are anxious to get hours) had agreed to come by about 11 and help me mail letters to potential sponsors. He never showed and I didn't quite get them all done before the mailman came; most of them were done, but a few more got postage after he left, because I was waiting for the community service worker to do it.

The good news is ALT can have a table at the Twilight Criterium bike race this weekend, for free, if we come up with 8 volunteers for 5 hours Saturday night. So far, I have only 3: Heather, Ray and me. And really, I am not that crazy about standing on my feet for 5 hours and telling people they can or can't cross the street between laps. Then we have to figure out how to staff the table we earned, and prepare materials for it.

Becky and I had lunch; she is heading out of town for a horse show this weekend, a big one for Lara. We had fun, but felt guilty for not visiting Bertha this week. I haven't even heard anything about her in the last few days.

At 5, I had a massage from Beth B., a choir member, who donated it as a prize to the person who recruited the most new tenors and basses this fall. I recruited Ray (or Amber did); Rosemary recruited Don, but his attendance is a little spotty and Rosemary didn't care about the prizes. It was a great massage, involving elbows and lavender oil among other things. I felt kind of bad, getting it for free, and didn't even have any cash for a tip. I thought $1 was worse than nothing. And writing a check for a tip seemed weird. I will have to go back and pay full price and give her an extravagant tip.

Ray had the Democratic committee meeting at 6; I went to pick him up and it was still going full strong, so we didn't get home until 7:45, at which point I was practically too hungry to eat and ate leftovers from the night before, plus some peas from the garden. It was practically dark while I was picking them and then had to shell and cook them. They were delicious and enough for a small serving, but not very filling. Also, the last of the chocolate torte with some ice cream. But I am starving now.

A little TV and a lot of sleep, but I am still tired and somewhat sore and feel stressed about this bike ride, 3 weeks from tomorrow. We have a few sponsors, mostly in-kind donors, and only two riders registered. Although they tell me that is normal; most people will wait, but we have to proceed as if we knew they would come. Phew.

I felt a little off today; maybe it was partly the impending stormy weather. Cloudy and warm and windy all day. There was a lot to do at ALT. The posters finally appeared--they are lovely. I took them to two bike shops. I also had a computer student to fit in. Ray had a late faculty meeting, so we didn't get home in time to make supper for potluck, but did make supper for us, using up the chicken we cooked a few days ago. We were a few minutes late to choir and only stayed an hour because we will be away when they sing the end of the month.

Lying awake at 3 am, I watch the sky. It is bright behind the interesting heavy clouds. Lightning flashes frequently. I can hear the wind through the cracked-open windows, in keeping with proper tornado precautions.

Earlier, we watched the Weather Channel. Tornado warnings were outlined on the map in red. "Take cover," the man said, gleefully admiring the size and shape of the storm in 3D--the traditional funnel-shaped cloud of a tornado on the ground, which we can see, thanks to radar and technology. It is tall and changes quickly. "It will be there in 2 minutes, go to shelter," he tells residents of Cedartown, Buchanan (pronounced Buck-a-nin), Polar Springs. Towns I have never visited or even heard of are in the path of destruction, an hour to the northwest. The announcer cannot help himself, he is as excited as a boy to have such awe-full weather to report. "Don't try to watch; you cannot judge the power and speed of a tornado by looking. Don't take pictures. Seek safety. This is very dangerous weather." he announces. Hail as big as baseballs, he says. The Birmingham weather station is closed, they have gone to their shelter and warnings are being issued from Tuscaloosa.

So we wait. We go to bed and wake up when the phone rings. A tornado has been sighted. The university warning system has called to tell us to go to shelter. Ray turns on the TV; it is in the southeast corner of the county; we are in the northwest.

As I watch the sky from my bed, I hear faint sounds, strange noises and people yelling far away, but then I realize it is the TV. "What are you watching?" I call down."Hellboy." he answers. I would rather watch the sky and I shut the bedroom door to block out the sounds. As I doze off, he joins me and we are safe. The breezes are cooler now and calmer. I am glad to miss the danger; my house will not be torn down, my chicken coop carried off, my life disrupted.

I was counting on the rain for my garden, though. The young plants are standing expectantly, waiting, weeded and mulched: the broccoli faces exposed, the tomatoes tied to their supports with white strips torn from an old t-shirt. The strawberries are small and not as juicy as they would be after the rain, the lettuce ready to eat will taste better with more rain. The asparagus is shooting up; we get a few stalks every day and have to save them up for a serving. Maybe rain will increase their number. Peas on their vines reaching toward the sky, climbing above the top of their fences. The flat pods will fill out faster and be tastier if we have rain.

But it is quiet now. For three days, storms have been predicted. Twice, I heard thunder, saw dark clouds, and felt wind, but no rain came. Today, the plants will have to be watered. It is a lot of work and not as thorough as a soaking rain, but it must be done.

We are lucky, we do not have to live off the garden as our pioneer ancestors did and people in poverty around the world. And we have water that comes out of a hose whenever we want. But it still must be done if the vegetables are to survive and thrive.

broccoli

 Yesterday morning, I did a little weeding, still waiting for the rain to come. Spent time at the Land Trust, working on the bike ride and the volunteer mowing program. Attended my first staff meeting and have some things to work on now.

Went to writing class, where I read the poem posted yesterday about Anger. People were very receptive and urged me to publish it widely and mail it to representatives. "The power of the pen." Another participant read a short story about working in Africa to prevent malaria that should also be published widely, saving children with mosquito netting.

peas

 After that, I went home and spent another hour or so working outside and some time on the computer. Then picked up Ray and went downtown to eat at NONA, the restaurant that replaced Harry Bissett's. Same chef, same manager, new owners. Great food, we had so much fun. Becky and Kent, Deb and John, Ray and I. We even were singing about dessert time, as we were the only ones in the upstairs dining room. I had exquisite scallops, a mojito. We had two bottles of white Cotes du Rhone and three desserts. The warm pecan pie with Chantilly cream was awesomely good. And we were still home by 9:30. I read for a bit to stop the room from swirling...I'm glad I had Ray to drive me home.

My anger is not the white-hot anger of justice, striding through the city righting wrongs and saving the world.

Mine is a bilious green, whiny and self-pitying, complaining and jealous.

Why is the world full of people who do the wrong thing? They drive big expensive cars that use a lot of precious gas; spend money on the wrong things and hurt others with words and guns.

Why can't they see it? How can I change this world? I am without hope. I will be long dead when the worst comes, but it is unbearably sad to realize that our society is too shallow to face our flaws and remedy them for future generations.

We can create so much that is clever and beautiful and inexpensive--surely we could create a society that is loving and safe and sustainable. Why don't we? Greed--does it all boil down to greed?

Most of the people I know are generous and compassionate--why would they want a world of hate and waste? How do happy laughing children turn into CEOs that make millions? Millions. How can one person's work be worth a million times more than another's? And how can I help make it stop?

We have enough food, we have enough money; we just need to find the way to share it.

I'm thinking of my friend Janna right now. Her Mom is in the hospital, her condition "tenuous." She may have pneumonia. One of the things I never thought about before--how do you diagnose someone who can't talk (Bertha had a stroke a few weeks ago). It is really hard for her to communicate; I have visited her a few times since then and it seems clear to me that her mind is pretty good, but her body won't let her get the words out or do anything: read, turn off the TV or change the channel. Every once in a while she would come out with a more or less full sentence that I could figure out and I had to wonder at how hard that was for her. "Do you like Janna's new hair color?" she asked me. I was kind of taken aback until I realized this had happened a few months ago. I said yes I did, very much. She said Ron liked it too. Anyway, that may be the last conversation I have with Bertha and I am comfortable with that.

But it has led me to think about many things, relating to end-of-life health care and money. I do not hesitate to say that if I am a vegetable and the doctors agree there is no chance of recovery, I do not want to be kept alive. But what if I am still me, but can't move or talk or eat or read--do I want to live? I think maybe the will to survive is pretty strong, even in cases like that. And who can judge for another the quality of life that they are living? But, the problem is, it costs a lot of money to help someone like that, trying to keep them comfortable (and alive) and even working on rehabilitation. Is it right to use that money for that purpose, when it could be feeding the hungry or keeping a baby alive who has health problems, but may improve and live a "good" long life? Who gets to decide? I'm sure we as a country have enough money to do both, if we stopped doing some other things, like killing people in far-away places, or paying CEO's millions of dollars. If we asked the billionaires, "would you like to use our money to keep old people alive a few more weeks?" what would they say? Not unless it's me...or my family... maybe?

There have also been more deadly tornadoes and I think the weather here today could be dangerous. I was weeding yesterday morning and evening, when it wasn't too hot, and hoping for rain. We had a couple episodes of thunder and wind in the late afternoon, but no rain yet.

Ray had another breakfast date and drove himself in the truck. Then he stayed late for a gathering with the same candidate at Little Kings, coming home about 7 or so, so he was gone 12 hours, which is fine but different. I dawdled in the garden, on my walk, in the bath, on the computer, and drove myself to ALT about 10:30. Not much to do there, but did have another conversation with Nancy about my job and she has prepared a job description for me, with my input, so that's good. Heather had jury duty, of all things. I had good leftovers for lunch from Easter dinner: roll with ham and jello salad.

I took some frozen yellow beans out to make supper with the chicken we cooked a few days ago. It was pretty good and low in carbs. (Except for the ice cream and brownie I had for dessert). I talked to Janna before bedtime and was ready to head over there, but her Mom was admitted to the ICU and stabilized and she hasn't heard anything yet this morning; the doctor should call soon. It's complicated because Ron is having surgery this morning to remove a growth in his foot, and maybe his sigmoid bone or part of it--a bone Ray didn't know existed. Ron has been in a lot of pain and it would be hard to reschedule. With a case like Bertha's, you just don't know how long the process will take. She could be stable for days and it doesn't always make sense to put your life on hold. Of course, this is the end of the semester for Janna (and Ray), so the last few classes, exams and papers to correct.

I slept pretty well, except for dreams of sailing this morning, perhaps related to watching the end of 2012 the other night.

Easter Sunday was pleasant, high in the 80s. I got up and made pancakes--and ate some of them before Ray got up. I made the frosting and frosted the chocolate torte, which was not very sweet. Is that what makes it a torte? I prepared the four pounds of asparagus we had bought Saturday night at Kroger. They were kind of sad, so I snapped off about half of each stalk before blanching them in boiling water with salt. I went for a quick walk and visited the gardens and chicken coop, garnering one egg. Then I put the rolls in to bake while I showered.

Ray and I headed out to the service, with chocolate torte, asparagus (blanched) and warm rolls. It was very crowded and went well. My parents were there, but they left before we got a chance to talk. We sang, "We rise again," one of my favorite songs with lots of high notes and multiple parts.

At one, we  headed to Deb and John's. My parents were already there. It was another lovely day. First, we dyed eggs. Then, we ate and ate. It was delicious. When we were thinking we couldn't eat it all, Janna and Ron arrived. Bertha was resting. Then we had desserts. Everybody gradually left. Ray and I stayed and walked around the block with Deb and John and the three dogs.

We were home about 6:30 or so and I worked some in the garden. I was a little hungry, but didn't know what to eat. Ate a little charoset and yogurt and a banana. We watched some TV, including the end of 2012, which we didn't really mean to, but it was on when we were going to bed. So we ended up staying up later than intended and then my adrenaline kept me up and I read for a while until I calmed down, until Ray said the light was keeping him awake. Then I lay there for a while and it was probably after midnight before I went to sleep. Then Ray got up about 4, but I managed to stay in bed and go back to sleep until almost 7.