Roses of Distraction

Wonderful roses of distraction, two nearly perfect roses side by side - how nice to have this David Austin rose (Heritage) wildly blooming in my yard right now.  Roses to distract me from feeling chained to my computer, to distract me from thinking about the proposals that I still need to review, roses to keep me awake while I continue to read, write, edit, and submit.  The end is near - or the beginning perhaps - I fly out tomorrow to the Land of Scandal and (BI)Partisan Politics - but only to sit in a windowless conference room with about 15 other scientists, trying to determine who is the most endangered, imperiled, vital or diverse.   There is a heaviness associated with these reviews - a sense of what could be lost that is often exaggerated, embellished, over-stated - scientists screaming 'Me!  Pick me!!' and I've questioned how I personally respond to these screams, how do I read over the noise and make the evaluations that I do.  I don't know how I do it - there's no process other than time.  I wish I could say that I have a process but I've realized during the past few days that I don't.  I read, and re-read.  Let it sit.  And then read again.  Finally - time dictates the process, like it does today and tonight, now I have to write.   I have a flight to catch, and little opportunity for sleep between now and then. 

So this heaviness...during a week of scandal, a week where you ponder the sadness of the loss of young Amish children (trying to think about the fact that the first photos of several of these children were most likely crime scene photos - I feel that the Amish deserve to be respected regarding their view on photos), a week where North Korea detonates a small nuclear device underground (but a nuclear device nonetheless) in a test that we all have felt and will feel for many unsettled years to come (and where, at 5:11 pm, 429 comments have been left at the NYTimes here regarding how the U.S. should respond)...yes, during this week of heaviness I have been chained to a chair and my computer, trying to help a small group of people decide what deserves to be studied, to be characterized, perhaps even to be saved. 

So we need roses, and we need to find on the world wide web a Microbial Fairy Tale that makes us smile.  We need to take a break and run to the store and buy a small steak for a sweet dog that turns 17 tomorrow, because we can't forget to celebrate this grand ocassion.  Although I can't call up and say "It's my dog's birthday, please excuse me from the review!" - I can, before I leave, cook her a steak.  Happy 17th, Ancient Wonder Beagle!                  

Comments

[Annie in Austin]

I hope your trip has some fun moments, Pam, even among the needy scientists. In my family there are several people on the asking-for-grants side of the system, so I am sympathetic to them... but when I read your descriptions of the process, sympathy needs to go to you, too! There's a probability that something wonderful will come from your hard decisions, even if you never know about all the endings.

Happy birthday to the Wonder Beagle. Does she howl to music? In my mind I hear Frank Sinatra singing, "When I Was Seventeen".

[Pam]

Annie: I am a needy scientist too - so I understand what they're doing (and I do it too) - this time around, I just happen to be reviewing them, rather than writing them! Thanks for the beagle - and what a great song suggestion!

[Joan]

What beautiful roses they are.
Happy birthday, Wonder Beagle!

I have an ancient one eyed cat he might want to meet :)

[Pam]

Joan: Wow, an Ancient Wonder Cat!

[Vera]

Those stunning roses would distract me. Have a nice trip.

[Pam]

Vera: Thanks- the trip has been good, but I'm ready to head home.