I just got off the phone with Cary, who organizes the book group at our local library branch, and felt encouraged by our discussion of politics. I like encouragement. There is so much I read in places like Salon about the political disaster awaiting the American left that I particularly enjoyed Cary’s sober assessment. Lots of work ahead, but not as hopeless as many imagine.

Just this morning I read Chauncey Devega’s reminder about the simultaneously mesmerizing and disorienting nature of proto-fascist discourse. And believe me, I was all ears. And then there was Cary suggesting that the Trumpistas are getting a bit tired of the lack of a visible leader. And then there is the matter of sheer attention span. It’s been a while. Some of the thrill may be gone. Maybe it’s time for the right to stock up on guns, dig an underground shelter and watch a lot of Internet…until 2028 I don’t know. But more positively stated, Cary did hold forth on the nature of leadership. That one person setting a good example can undo 1000 bad examples. Not sure if I believe this. But doesn’t matter. Sometimes a good example is all one can do.

It’s raining. Almost all the time. This is a moment that makes me want to drive to Marin County, the western part, particularly the road along Nicasio Reservoir. The latter is a very shallow lake, one that drains a bit of county acreage to provide water for the towns of Point Reyes Station, inverness, and so on. And when Jane and I drove by in early November, the Water District lake had shrunk to something like 20% of its normal size. Not now. Whatever the current condition, it will be much fuller. The waters may be almost lapping over the spillway. What an image. This is what it is to live in the arid West. Water is precious. Rain is a miracle. And one learns to be grateful. Never a bad idea in any case.

Still, I must admit, the constantly gray skies are a bit wearying. A regular burst of sunny blue, say just after lunch each afternoon, would be welcome. I could sit in my greenhouse, enjoy the captured solar energy, stare at the lettuce and the sprouts of cauliflower, and feel the agricultural bounty. And the mystery. The garden giveth and taketh away. The comings and goings of our backyard crops are unpredictable. Mostly because the pests are always one step ahead of us, the growers. At this moment the fava beans are pretty safe. They are outside, no longer in the greenhouse, sitting in growing bags. 

I only discovered the latter fairly recently. Lightweight alternatives to pots. And grow bags have other characteristics, supposedly. One is that being cloth, when root hairs reach the edges of the growing environment they do microscopic reconnaissance, sending out probes between fibers of the weave. Once those root hairs reach the outside world, they detect the air, and give up. Not so with clay or plastic pots. As everyone knows there, roots reach the bottom and start going around in circles. Desperate for escape. Desperate for more soil, more water, more everything. But with growing bags, as the garden websites say, the roots are “air trimmed.”

Actually, if you want to know, this isn’t always good. Yes, there may be no root ball at the bottom of your growing container, but there are also may not be much of anything else. Such as potatoes. I am unconvinced that this is a good environment for growing potatoes. I think that the root hairs reach the outside world, send a message back through to the potatoes

that amounts to “give up.”

To put it simply, I am stuck at home more these days. Jane is too. And it’s kind of enjoyable most of the time. I will be glad when Christmas is over. Merry jingle seems to mostly be happening elsewhere. Jane is simply working very hard.

She is also the bearer of bad COVID-19 news. All hopes for an indoor nativity play have been dashed by the pandemic. Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, I plan to journey down to her church and see the little kids with halos tell the story. Out on the sidewalk, that is. Jane has secured an urban bale of hay and had a carpenter build a small stable and manger. Pretty cool. See you there.