a redefinition

Some time ago I said I didn't love my country, I feared it. At the time I was defining "my country" as the political entity of the United States, its government, its relationships to the world, its relationships to its (my) people.

Something has changed. I don't know what changed or why, but the word doesn't seem to mean that any more. It sems to mean the things that, at that time, I said I did love: the land, the people, the history, the culture. Some of all that is damaged or diseased or dysfunctional, but I do love those things (maybe not more than I love the whole world. Probably not more than I love the whole world. But there's something specific in my love for what's nearer, for what I know).

I don't think much else has changed. I think my love of country is fiercer, maybe, because of the horrible danger we're in. But not fiercer in a martial way.

Anyway. I'm not excepting myself from statements other people make about loving their country any more. I'm still no patriot, sorry, I can't see a patriot as anything other than a nationalist, and I know that there are people who use the word differently, but the word will never be available to me.

On other fronts, chapter eight is up. I finally figured out how to make the chapter descriuptions hide until you mouse over the chapter links. It works in IE. If it doesn't work in Nestcape, Mozilla anything, or whatever, let me know, okay?


Technology is such an adventure.

Every mother's son

Tell me, can you remain calm while discussing with your son whether he needs to be prepared for cholera? Also, I worry that he's taking too much stuff. Or not enough. His pack is too heavy. But what if? -- what if? You know, nobody ever talks about how the volunteers in these disaster scenes get fed.

On other fronts, Emma's fees were almost as much less than I expected as her books cost. Almost. We've spent $334 on the first quarter and she has not gotten them all yet. The Porter core course requires five books and a reader -- I guess I'm glad she's not in Stevenson, which has a year-long core course and thirteen books in the first quarter.

On still other fronts, it's not even the middle of September and I've already made two apple pies and three messes of applesauce. The most recent applesauce was the best: two Pippins from the tree, a Mackintosh from the store, a pear, and unfiltered apple juice. The best apples are beyond my reach, even with a ladder. We should chasten that tree.