Rosie, my new walking dog

Rosie is the sweetest dog in the world. She is probably related to Stinkypotamous. Zack would love her. Everyone loves Rosie. People stop by her yard and visit with her. But I'm really lucky, because I finally met her owners, who told me that the children are welcome to come into the yard and play (The People are at work all day) AND that I could walk her any time I liked. The leash is in the outside shed.

So this morning, while it was still cool (with 95% humidity), I took Rosie for a walk. And guess what? She and I are perfect walk partners. She likes to walk along at a brisk pace, with stops for sniffing and marking. She will heel if I ask her to and knows how to stop at intersections, then start when I start up. She doesn't pull on the leash but does like to walk out in front, tracking the scents. She walks the same way Sophie did. She snuffs a bit, the way dogs do if slightly frustrated, when I don't let her go into someone's yard, but she obeys cheerfully. Just that little audible exhalation of breath. So, as long as it's summer and I'm home, I look forward to morning Walks With Rosie.

"Eat, eat, eat, Molt, expand, repeat!"

This title is the lobsters' chant, as reported on NPR's Morning Edition this Tuesday.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=11382976#email

It seems that no one knows how long a lobster can live and how big it can get. I certain;ly don't know, buI I do know, though, that once in a blue moon a bright blue lobster is caught and folks come to marvel. I know also that Warrens' Seafood, a small fish market in a small village near my home town of Riverside, RI, has caught two blue lobsters in recent years. I saw both of them, in two different summers, prowling around in the salt water holding tank next to the cases of littlenecks and steamers, mussels and squid, scrod, mackerel, and what ever else they'd caught.

The blue lobsters are a deep bright blue, deep cerulean, and tinged with the same hints of red and cream like the regular dull dark green ones.

Lobsters are great, boiled quickly (and perhaps cruelly?), and served very simply, either hot with drawn butter to dip in, or chilled, with same and mayo if you like. And good crusty French or Italian bread. You can break off each long thin claw and chew on it from tip to opening, squeezing out the sweet salty juices, A lobster can keep you busy for the better part of an hour, especially with a friend, cool drinks and a pleasant setting. You need no fries, no side orders, though last summer I had a modest looking but perfect dish of grilled zucchini pieces, done with garlic.

I was very lucky last summer, because I happened to be in Plymouth, Mass., a block from Plymouth Rock and the Mayflower replica, at a comfortable restaurant by the harbor, and it was Thursday, their "Twin lobsters for $19.95" night. One to eat and one to take home and chill for lobster salad, or a lobster roll, or plain, with melted butter.

They are usually very expensive, and lots of the people who catch them or live near those fishing villages can't usually afford to eat them.

One summer I had spent a few days in Waldoboro, Maine, and on my way home read that a truckload of Homarus americanus has overturned way up north on Route 1. The lobsters, which had been on their way to restaurants in big cities, were instead distributed throughout the town, to senior centers and all kinds of social agencies. For once, the people up there Down East could have a taste of their prime catch.

Who will protect the children?

It's been said that one daily edition of the New York Times contains more information than a citizen of the world x hundred years ago would ever learn. (Sorry, I can't remember the number, but you get the idea.) Most of us barely have time to skim the surface of the day's news, whether online, on the radio, on TV, or in a newspaper. But since it's school summer vacation I have way too much time to read the paper.
It's sometimes depressing and sometimes very, very worrying. I understand why we need the sports news and the funnies (one reason for getting your local paper) to enable us to lighten up enough to get through the day. Between reading about the threat of extremist terrorism and pedophile rings, I need Sherman's Lagoon. And of course arts and science news.
But here's something practical for all of us that have anything to do with children. We can vote for legislators and presidential candidates who will supply funds for universal health insurance for U.S. children, and we can watch out what we put into their hands to play with.
See those little guys up there on the piano? Most of them were made in China. It says so right on their little backsides. Today's NYT has a huge story about a recall of Thomas the Tank Engine toys, sold by a company called RC2, which started in trading cards but turned to toys for greater profits. The company's way smaller than Mattel and Hasbro, but it sells toys tied in with very popular brand names -- Thomas, Dora the Explorer, John Deere, and Disney, among others. My little granddaughter loves Dora ("Doh-wa"), and I've sprung for aDora toy once or twice. If those brand names sound safe, all-American, and harmless (outside of the branding implications and, of course, choking hazards), think again. The Thomas toys were found to be coated with lead-based paint. A NYT reporter who went to the factory in China to investigate was detained for several hours by a factory manager who didn't want him asking questions.
The Times mentions the Imperfect Parent online magazine and blog for those who want to keep informed on children's safety, nutrition, and other good stuff, and suggests as well that you sign up for immediate notification of recalls at the website of the Consumer Product Safety Commission, the staff of which was cut by more than 10% over the past two years. And I will also recommend that in this time of low governmental priorities for children, we should pay attention to the Children's Defense Fund, which is actively campaigning for health insurance for all of our children.

You know there ain't no devil, only God when He's drunk...

I took the grandsons to the beach. On the way back they took pictures from the car window. US 21 going back north out of Beaufort, SC, offers images just as interesting as the postcard scenes of the shore. The almost-11 year old made sociological observations about the demographically excellent location of an unpretentious Chinese restaurant where you can get enormous servings of Chinese dishes as good as most anywhere else, amounts that could easily feed a family of four on just one dish. We had very good dumplings (eight to a serving), General Tso's chicken, and Moo Shu Shrimp. Did we finish it all? No way.

The beach? The lighthouse? Later

What's it all about?

I'd like to know
What this whole show
Is all about
Before it's out.

Piet Hein, Grooks

The New York Times this week ran a lifestyles feature about a housing development in Arizona where people who love star-watching can buy a first or second home in an area with very little light pollution so that they can stargaze.
NPR this same week aired a report about family homes in Nepal where people develop severe lung disease because they cook indoors on wood fires with inadequate ventilation. They love the wood fires and love to gather around them.
I love to look at the stars and at wood fires. And it's not news that the world is full of inequality, but I still gape at the contrasts and wonder what I'm doing with MY life.