Today I planted azaleas, geraniums, and petunias, but it wasn’t because of Earth Day; it was because these are the three plants that don’t hate me.
I’ve never made a point of remembering Earth Day—but that doesn’t mean I’m in favor of deterioration of the environment. On the contrary, we are stewards of the planet, and do well to keep it clean. Besides, I’m already doing what I can to reduce my footprint; dieting off and on should at least reduce the depth.
But really, who wants to honor a holiday founded by a guy named Gaylord? I’d rather honor Good Friday, Amen. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” (Today is a day founded by the GoodLord.)
Another reason I’m not on board with the hubbub is that the U. N. named it International Mother Earth Day. The earth isn’t my mother. My mom is the kind, clever rascal that lives next door.
I confess, though: I did ooh & ahh over this week’s interactive Google logo. (Sneezing Baby Panda, FTW!) And our family is modifying our recycling, after reading a flyer we just received: “Make your recycling count.” Adding non-recyclables to comingled recycling requires additional resources to extricate it. I’d recently heard from a friend certain things could be recycled, but that info was erroneous. Flyers don’t lie, especially ones with pictures. So there.
Well, it is Earth Day’s 40th Anniversary; we could celebrate a little. Tomorrow they’re collecting hazardous waste at the nearby bus station. Maybe I’ll stop by and catch a buzz.