An Island in a Sea of Reality

My island of phlox, sedum and primrose in the middle of my yard where a tree once stood

One of the solar grazing balls-all lit up pink, purple and green at night contributing to the Vegas Strip aura of my patio island. When it stops freezing at night, I will add flowers

Ms Naomi at 30 weeks with a Sisley print from the Musée D'Orsay in the background. I have a Monet print on the opposite wall and a sculpture from the MOMA shop over our bed

Ann Arbor recently has been described as an island in a sea of reality. I am not sure what is meant by this: college elite surrounded by blue collar? a pocket of slightly lower unemployment surrounded by massive unemployment? animal rights people surrounded by communities with deer poles? Overprivileged kids surrounded by people scrambling for a living? I do know that reality is creeping into our little island. That big company that pulled the rug out from under us was the largest private employer and biggest tax payer. Now gone; its properties have been converted to state land (non-tax paying). Ms. Naomi is currently negotiating what it takes to get assistance. She's in line with plenty of others; people who never thought they would find themselves there. Our insurance won't cover the baby and unless she is a full time student, not her although she should be good until fall. Some of my audience might think why should my tax dollars support YOUR grandkid. Comfort yourself that it will take years for Naomi to recoup the hit we took when our company gave us a lump sum buyout and more than half of it went to taxes. I spend many hours trying to convert Naomi into a potentially productive member of society.There are haves and then there are have nots. Many haves have been converted to havenots. Still there is much resentment between the two.

I read an outraged letter to the editor of the WSJ yesterday from a physician whose clientele consists mainly of Medicaid patients. Apparently he walked through the waiting room and noticed that every single one of them had an expensive phone that he, himself, could not afford. Yet he paid taxes and they didn't. I can imagine what care he provides for these 'parasites'.

I don't like tax payer 'waste' anymore than anyone else in my particular household. I resent that taxpayer bailouts went initially to fund executive bonuses and corporate retreats. I resent the sham war that benefited reconstruction companies and other miscellaneous contractors, the beneficiary of which just happened to be a high executive officer. Giving every medicaid recipient an i-phone wouldn't even put a dent in our budget compared to an hour in Iraq not that I believe the whining doctor for a minute.

Physically our fair island is surrounded by an incomplete beltline of 3 expressways similar to the Périphérique that surrounds Paris (note to would-be drivers: never drive within it) except there is a minor hole on the western edge that prevents us from driving in complete circles. We live on the the northeast edge of it. I cross the M-14 bridge and I run by my small band of vultures -one circling closely over my head the other day and the red-tail hawk who seems to be chased by a flock of crows. The frogs now are silent and soon I won't be able to stop because the deer flies will emerge. But for now I run pass herons and egrets and the occasional deer.