I shot these images Tuesday, I think, and they seem pathetically out of date. Daffodils are not just budding anymore, but many clusters are adding splashes of yellow to gardens in Cedar Rapids.
Crocuses are in full bloom. Project beautify the yard was, I think, a smashing success. I worried a bit because when I first stated planting crocus bulbs last fall, I did it one at a time, but quickly grew tired and bored and started planting them in groups. Then I worried that come spring, the odd scattered patches of color would make the yard look like it had some weird sort of crocus mange.
Although I also hoped it would look cool. It’s dangerous for me to pass these judgments, particularly on my own plantings, but I’m gonna come down on the cool side. The flowers look nice.
Anyway, I shot the flowers Tuesday thinking that I would comment on the southern primaries. So far the mid nation, from Iowa down through Mississippi, is looking like a solid slab of Santorum purple. Yippee. Apparently Midwestern Republicans are way more interested in ideological purity than electoral success, and Mitt’s inevitable ascendance to the GOP crown has been put off a bit.
At least Newt didn’t roar back.
Anyway, Santorum is a bit like the Sarah Palin of 2012, to me. He’s passionately supported by people who seem more than a bit on the fringe. And I find myself barely able to listen. With Sarah, it was her gosh-darn, heard at Wal-Mart folksy Midwestern/Alaska voice forming those rolled weird syllables that never seemed to string together in complete thoughts. With Santorum, it’s his whiny sounding, peevish bluster that seems a bit like a rather nasty gym teacher or unpopular football coach.
Not, I concede, that the sound of politicians voices are fair or important ways to judge the content of what they say. By all accounts I’ve read, Lincoln’s voice was high and rather unpleasant. So it’s not of any great consequence that I always think Rick Santorum is disappointed in my blocking.
So, here are some flowers. Out of date, as any analysis I might offer of the Republican race is. I give up. I don’t know why Newt is still running. I don’t know why anybody would consider voting for Mr. Sweater Vest Crazy Guy. I don’t know why the Romney Robot is both the only likely nominee, but also the man Republicans just can’t bring themselves to embrace. I don’t know why some seemingly bright young people embrace the 18th century ravings of Ron Paul. Dudes, this is the Republican field?
I need to tune out. I think I’ll just go smell some flowers.