The economy is still suffering from the worst financial crisis since the Depression, and widespread anger persists that financial institutions that caused it received bailouts of billions of taxpayer dollars and haven’t been held accountable for any wrongdoing. Yet the House Appropriations Committee has responded by starving the agency responsible for bringing financial wrongdoers to justice — while putting over $200 million that could otherwise have been spent on investigations and enforcement actions back into the pockets of Wall Street.How is it putting over $200 million back into the pockets of Wall Street? Because, even though the Republican controlled appropriations committee report cited the Federal debt as a basis for cutting the SEC budget, the budget of the SEC is funded not by taxpayer money but from levied fees on those that the SEC regulates - which, of course, includes Wall Street. That means the over $200 cut from the budget stays in the pockets of the very people who were so instrumental in causing the current rescission. It's more Repub hocus pocus.
July 16, 2011
pandering to wall street . . . again
July 15, 2011
July 14, 2011
cuts sometimes bleed greviously
(Reuters) - U.S. Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke warned Congress on Thursday that overzealous cuts to government spending in the short term could derail an already fragile recovery and said a U.S. debt default may wreak financial havoc.
"I only ask ... as Congress looks at the timing and composition of its changes to the budget, that it does take into account that in the very near term the recovery is still rather fragile, and that sharp and excessive cuts in the very short term would be potentially damaging to that recovery," Bernanke told members of the Senate Banking Committee.
The day the empanadas vanished
We have a local chain of grocery stores here in Houston (I think there is one in Austin and perhaps even elsewhere in region) that are unusual in the width and variety of stock offered. The international section is unbelievably comprehensive for a local grocery store - especially for items from Mexico, South America but also from far east, Europe and mediterranean area. It's the only place in town where you can almost always find a can of delicious smoked sprats (these from Latvia).
When A. and I first moved to Houston we were delighted to find that the bakeries in most Fiesta stores made a wide range of American and Mexican baked goods, including a variety of quite delicious empanadas. Our favorite became the apple empanada from a particular store (now closed because of freeway expansion - our freeways in Houston will soon cover the entirety of East Texas!) but most other stores had comparable apple empanadas so wherever we were if we saw a Fiesta store and felt the need, we would stop by for our empanada fix. Delicious. For years they were delicious.
About three weeks ago, we were shopping at our local Fiesta - looking for sprats actually for a surprise birthday party - and realized we had not eaten breakfast. We finished our shopping, went by the bakery and grabbed us a couple of empanadas and started back to the house, empanadas in hand. For some reason - perhaps our recent, slightly more austere, diets - but for some reason the empanada, while delicious, seemed a little too sweet. I am certain that the empanada was the same as before. But I guess I wasn't. After one bite, I stared at the portable pie in my hand (one eye on the road as I was driving) and realized it was not the most nutritious item available to staunch our hunger. I turned to A., "Do you realize what is in this thing? Look at it - do you know what we are eating?"
"An apple empanada?" she asked, clearly aware that she did know what she was eating.
"No," I said. "Look at it."
Okay, I'm not eating it, she said and she didn't and I didn't and we don't and evidently we won't anymore. We still go to Fiesta - but now we buy their fresh apples in the produce section (organic when they have them) rather than the empanadas which clearly are not made from the apples they sell in their produce section. I'm sure that those apples come with complete filling in large tins from . . . where? I don't know, but we don't eat them anymore.
When A. and I first moved to Houston we were delighted to find that the bakeries in most Fiesta stores made a wide range of American and Mexican baked goods, including a variety of quite delicious empanadas. Our favorite became the apple empanada from a particular store (now closed because of freeway expansion - our freeways in Houston will soon cover the entirety of East Texas!) but most other stores had comparable apple empanadas so wherever we were if we saw a Fiesta store and felt the need, we would stop by for our empanada fix. Delicious. For years they were delicious.
About three weeks ago, we were shopping at our local Fiesta - looking for sprats actually for a surprise birthday party - and realized we had not eaten breakfast. We finished our shopping, went by the bakery and grabbed us a couple of empanadas and started back to the house, empanadas in hand. For some reason - perhaps our recent, slightly more austere, diets - but for some reason the empanada, while delicious, seemed a little too sweet. I am certain that the empanada was the same as before. But I guess I wasn't. After one bite, I stared at the portable pie in my hand (one eye on the road as I was driving) and realized it was not the most nutritious item available to staunch our hunger. I turned to A., "Do you realize what is in this thing? Look at it - do you know what we are eating?"
"An apple empanada?" she asked, clearly aware that she did know what she was eating.
"No," I said. "Look at it."
Okay, I'm not eating it, she said and she didn't and I didn't and we don't and evidently we won't anymore. We still go to Fiesta - but now we buy their fresh apples in the produce section (organic when they have them) rather than the empanadas which clearly are not made from the apples they sell in their produce section. I'm sure that those apples come with complete filling in large tins from . . . where? I don't know, but we don't eat them anymore.
July 13, 2011
July 12, 2011
wabi-sabi sunflower
The transcendent beauty
I like sunflowers.
July 10, 2011
July 04, 2011
July 4 Garden Pictures
We actually had our family holiday celebration yesterday - so today is kinda laid back and easy - run with the dogs early a.m. followed by day of easy living... I like days of easy living, a St. Arnold's ale and a bit of homemade cod soup.
The sunflower is a volunteer - probably from our being able to again share seed with the neighborhood birds since we no longer have backyard cats. There is an upside and a downside to this. We miss the cats. But while we had the cats, we missed the birds. I like cats fine. I also like birds and sometimes likes don't mix so well - sometimes likes require a little care and shepherding.
This flower is a reminder that life and living, relationships and sharing, are all ways always complex and mostly worth the trouble. I like sunflowers.
The rose is a survivor. A surprise and delight that is tougher than nails! Thorny anyway. It is an "almost wild rose" or some such name from a local nursery bought (with companions) a few years ago to live near a sweet olive tree reported to top out at about 12' or so. Well the sweet olive is double that in size and throws an immense shade that roses (including their almost wild kin) don't tolerate well. Roses like their sunshine!
After living in the shade of the olive tree for the last 2-3 years, the rose was mostly three or four sticks with a few leaves and no flowers. It would occasionally struggle to produce a petal or two of pink, but no real flowers. Finally we decided to put a shade-lover, a lover of the darker sides of living, in its place. We briefly considered tossing the bedraggled rose on the compost. But no, we decided, even in this hottest June on record (or at least since 1906) for Houston, we decided to try a new home for the rose. We tr
ansplanted the rose to another sunnier corner of the garden and watered it (I keep wanting to call the rose a her but I'm going to keep calling the rose an "it"). I was pretty sure that it would die in this heat, but how little credit we sometimes give to the urge for life - the urge to express oneself. So! one short month later, we have this terrific "almost wild" rose smiling into the early morning sunlight. I like roses.
The sunflower is a volunteer - probably from our being able to again share seed with the neighborhood birds since we no longer have backyard cats. There is an upside and a downside to this. We miss the cats. But while we had the cats, we missed the birds. I like cats fine. I also like birds and sometimes likes don't mix so well - sometimes likes require a little care and shepherding.
This flower is a reminder that life and living, relationships and sharing, are all ways always complex and mostly worth the trouble. I like sunflowers.
The rose is a survivor. A surprise and delight that is tougher than nails! Thorny anyway. It is an "almost wild rose" or some such name from a local nursery bought (with companions) a few years ago to live near a sweet olive tree reported to top out at about 12' or so. Well the sweet olive is double that in size and throws an immense shade that roses (including their almost wild kin) don't tolerate well. Roses like their sunshine!
After living in the shade of the olive tree for the last 2-3 years, the rose was mostly three or four sticks with a few leaves and no flowers. It would occasionally struggle to produce a petal or two of pink, but no real flowers. Finally we decided to put a shade-lover, a lover of the darker sides of living, in its place. We briefly considered tossing the bedraggled rose on the compost. But no, we decided, even in this hottest June on record (or at least since 1906) for Houston, we decided to try a new home for the rose. We tr
ansplanted the rose to another sunnier corner of the garden and watered it (I keep wanting to call the rose a her but I'm going to keep calling the rose an "it"). I was pretty sure that it would die in this heat, but how little credit we sometimes give to the urge for life - the urge to express oneself. So! one short month later, we have this terrific "almost wild" rose smiling into the early morning sunlight. I like roses.
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