Rosie 2, Nature 0 -- September 2008

Howdy!

The Wild keeps calling, and Rosie keeps answering. This time it was a possum. Sunday night we had let the dogs out after dark, as we always do, for one last romp, and Rosie did not come back in quickly, as she usually does, nor when she was called. I grabbed one of our flashlights (do you know where yours are, and do the batteries really work? It’s an Ohio necessity), and went outside to find Rosie standing over the corpse of a possum, gloating. (And do not expect me to write “opossum,” as they are just possums here, or sometimes “vittles.”) After we hauled her inside, Stephen tried to brave it out and suggested that maybe Rosie hadn’t killed it, and that maybe it had just sort of crawled into the middle of our lawn and died. At which point our proud, dark-brown warrior queen promptly barfed up a mass of grey fur, which seemed fairly conclusive. Maisie just looked embarrassed by the whole thing.

Nature is fighting back, however. We had purchased a second bird feeder, inexpensive, plastic with short perches, as a number of large birds were crowding our primary one. Within a few days, the plastic had been pecked to bits and the perches detached. The squirrels, for whom we are kind enough to supply dried corncobs, have learned that it is much easier to unclasp the holders from their hooks, knocking them to the ground, and dine from there. Sometimes they will even take the entire holder with them, and we find it later under a shrub. Our attempt at a compost pile has become something of the neighborhood buffet: no matter how deep we dig in the eggshells or produce, we find bits later, somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

Local politics remain just as messy. The consternation now is about the non-smoking ban that was put into place just last year in Ohio, and is being considered for Kentucky. The ban won in an election in 2006 by a good-sized majority, which is surprising because this state also has one of the higher percentages of smokers in the U.S. (Likewise, obesity and illiteracy, though I am not suggested that there is necessarily causality among the three.) People are still in an uproar, however, and there are constant letters to the paper, etc. The consensus seems to be that the people have had some “right” taken away. One man wrote a lengthy letter about how he had served in two wars, so consequently should be allowed to smoke wherever he pleases, which logic I cannot quite follow, but which did lead to my getting another letter published, thus:

The writer of the letter “Ban should exempt Veterans” (July 23) states: “I disagree with the law because it takes away my right to make a decision myself.” Isn’t that exactly what laws do? Does the writer believe that he should be allowed to drive at any speed, not stop at intersections, or walk around in public naked? After all, he should be allowed to make those decisions for himself!

My letter provoked a great deal of online discussion through the paper’s website, mostly people going off about which side of the smoking argument they support, which really was not my theme at all. One person suggested that I was an idiot, because speeding is illegal and smoking is not. I defended myself by explaining that I had not written “speeding,” but “drive at any speed,” because both driving and smoking are legal, but with certain restrictions, so I felt my analogy was apt. Another man wrote that I was clearly ignorant, as are all letter writers (and by extension, everyone?) from Greenhills. He might have had more credibility, but he wrote Greenhills as two words twice, and misspelled the words argument, privilege, and from.

Anyway, despite a majority vote, many of these vocal opponents now want to have the vote overturned. Ironically, one of the other hot topics, although to a much lesser extant, is California’s and Massachusetts’ stances on gay marriage. The over-riding cry is: the people of California voted against gay marriage, so that should be it, no activist judges! Apparently, the message is, if affects “us” (smoking) ignore the vote; if it affects “them” (gay marriage) the people must be heard! Whatever.

In other news, we attended the hundred-and-somethingth annual Hamilton County Fair. We had read that attendance was down considerably; perhaps it was due to this year’s theme: “A Rural Fair for an Urban Society,” which to me sounds more like a doctoral dissertation than a fun family outing. What happened to “Cow-abunga!” or “Let’s Pig Out at the Fair”? No matter what the theme, it was dismal. I had laid out my plan to Stephen on the way: I wanted to ride a rusty ride, win an ugly stuffed toy, eat something unhealthy, and pet an enormous animal. If I could somehow combine two or more of those things, even better. Although the heat was ungodly (prize-winning chickens lying on their sides panting in their coops, curdled blue-ribbon desserts, wilted arrangements), I don’t think it made much difference. The whole thing was just dusty and meager and sad. The signs in the “Crafts” area were written by hand in marker on what looked like the back of box lids. The “Fine Art” photographs and drawings were hung askew on pegboard, over what looked like dirt planter boxes (why?) with no sense to groupings; those with ribbons were obscured, as the ribbons were hung on the same hook as the art! Many things only had a few entries, so nearly everyone “won”: the gardening section looked like someone had just made a few cuttings of whatever was in bloom in their yard that morning, and stuck them into empty beer bottles. We briefly considered entering in nearly every category next year (barring livestock) to see if we could sweep the whole thing, but decided against it. Although if you feel the need for any glory, feel free to send us photos, drawings, crafts, “collections,” vegetables, preserves, etc for next year as we can almost certainly guarantee you a prize.

That’s all for now.

Love, Rob't