May 23, 2026: “No Mow May” observed on Hayes Ave. in Racine, Wisconsin.
Another Week: Number 178
Lawn and garden season continues. There’s plenty to do, and a huge portion of it has to be done in the last half of May.
My neighbor Sergio kindly helped me remove the large pile of sticks I had accumulated behind my garage like some sort of American Lot Long. I found the 'Cat's Pajamas' Catmint I wanted for cheap at Walmart — but only at their Franklin store, so I saved time and gas and paid twice as much at Milaeger’s. God bless that place for alphabetizing their selections because some of the other lawn and garden centers make up their own arbitrary groupings and you can spend all day searching out the specific item you want.
When I was a kid, I lived within walking distance of the Kenosha Sand Dunes, which served as my lunar analogue site to practice for Apollo missions. There were plenty of common milkweeds en route, and in the adjacent Chiwaukee Prairie. Hell, there were milkweeds all along the railroad tracks, in Old St. Mark’s Cemetery at the end of my block, and in any vacant lot. They were weeds.
This week, I bought two common milkweed plants for my garden at Milaeger’s. They were $20 apiece.
Out in the world at large, it’s almost like there is no war with Iran. The Strait of Hormuz (many cabinet officials and TV pundits still call it “the Straits”) has been closed for 12 weeks, but most of the bombing has been halted for half that time, so the whole mess is in limbo while while Donald J. Trump tries to figure out his next move after impulsively painting himself into a corner.
For now Trump has offered the media a new pork chop to gnaw on: He “settled” his ridiculous $10 billion lawsuit against the IRS by announcing a $1.776 (get it?) billion slush fund designed to compensate any of his supporters the government has punished. So, if any “patriots” happen to (wink, wink) overstep the law when, say, people are voting for Democrats this November, they’ll know that a fat wad of taxpayer dollars is ready and waiting to cushion them.
Oh — and as an afterthought, Trump’s Department of Justice immunized Trump and his family and their companies from any IRS scrutiny for all time.
The corruption is putrid with this one.
Also in the news, a hantavirus outbreak on a Dutch cruise ship has given way to an outbreak of Ebola in the Democratic Republic of the Congo that’s killed at least 160 people so far.
The Chicago Cubs got swept by the Milwaukee Brewers, and have now lost seven games in a row.
I walked 6.79 miles this week.
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Max Richter, Sleep
Like a lot of people, I would enjoy getting eight or more hours of blissful, ocean-bottom sleep every night. I experiment with various Celestial Seasonings teas (Honey Vanilla Chamomile currently works better for me than their various “Sleepytime” blends). I walk during the day. I crack a bedroom window when reasonable.
One habit I’ve had for years is leaving a radio on at low volume all night long, typically on a news station. The BBC used to be great for this, with their impassive delivery, but lately they have become more urgent and breathless, like American news stations, making sleep difficult.
Theoretically, music could work — but it needs to be relaxing instrumental stuff. Clair de lune, for example, is excellent. But I don’t have enough other tracks to last all night.
Then I found out about Sleep, an 8-hour, 24-minute album from 2015 by Max Richter created specifically for this purpose with input from a neuroscientist. But Apple Music wanted $35 for it, so I vacillated for months before finally pulling the trigger on Thursday.
It’s a lot of spacey sound gently blending back and forth — but as the album played on the Bluetooth speaker in my bedroom, I tossed and turned for a good hour before finally turning it off.
That $35 was really bugging me.
Send Help (2026)
This movie was included in some online list, so on Saturday night I mentioned it to my mom. She said she had already seen it — but she loves re-watching movies and insisted that we watch it together via Disney+.
It was a disappointment.
Send Help stars Rachel McAdams, who is fairly good as an efficient but nerdy corporate strategist fanatically devoted to the TV show Survivor. Dylan O’Brien is forgettable as the superficial boss looking to axe her — but first there’s a business trip to Bangkok on their schedule.
Wouldn’t you know it — their plane goes down, they’re stranded on a desert island together, and the tables are turned. Suddenly his office politics are useless, and his life depends on her survival skills.
So the brief horror of the plane crash is forgotten and now this is, what … a romantic comedy? Those familiar steps start ticking off one by one on the tropical beach — but there are also some hints of darkness. Then, suddenly, the movie takes a drastic swing.
It’s as if you’re playing chess with someone who ultimately gets bored and overturns the table. The whole stupid plot goes out the window. Mayhem takes over, and the movie itself mocks you for wasting an hour and 53 minutes on it.
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