English: New guinea impatiens shot at Munnar.. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I’ve been planting containers. This afternoon. I put New Guinea Impatiens in the large container at the side of the house. I had a cinnamon fern in that container last year, but got rid of it. Very little sunshine, and supposedly the Impatiens will not die in mostly shade.
Given the leaves of the new Impatient are yellow and green and the flower is salmon colored, they should brighten the corner of the house. I don’t generally plant Impatiens as they are ubiquitous around our area in summer, and often boring but these plants promise pizzazz.
This morning we refinanced the house to get new a lower rate. We have much equity in “our” house, but owe a sum worth mortgaging. Bought the house during the Carter years when interest rates were sky-high, but property values were rock bottom. In other words, the neighborhood was on the skids. New rate is as low as it will probably go, but house prices keep climbing as we have perfect proximity to downtown DC.
We bought the house from a Congressional aide to a Senator from Ohio, so it was wired for communication. David and I both worked for Bell at the time, me a block from the White House and David two blocks from me. It was perfect for our work and our commute.
I was thinking about my old office this morning because I have been reading Lynne Olson’s Citizens of London: The Americans Who Stood with Britain in Its Darkest, Finest Hour, an excellent book by an excellent writer. One of the citizens in the book is Edward R. Morrow, the father of broadcast journalism.
I am old enough to remember him when he was alive, but the Edward R. Morrow monument in DC was a block from my old office building. I often took my lunch there or down to Layfayette Park across from the White House where I would sit on a bench and eat on nice days. The club where Morrow, Eric Sevareid and other journalists drank was next door to my office. For a while, I had a window which looked out on the front door.
Before I met him, David was working on the NPR radio network project for AT&T, He drank with the journalists who frequented the bar. I have heard wild reports from others about his drum-playing during Happy Hour (another story).
Like Morrow, Olson is a journalist. Once upon a time she worked for the Associated Press and was a White House correspondent for the Baltimore Sun. I am sure she is familiar with the bar which serves the White House Press Corps. Olson is not a historian, but she writes great contemporary ‘history’ (ala Bob Woodward). If you have an interest in the jounalist’s POV of the “behind the scenes” of WWII pick up one of her six books or all of them (I have four of them).
I love journalists, they mostly write stuff I can read without falling asleep. Speaking of which, my once drum-playing madman is taking a nap after a stressful day. This morning he says to me, “You realize you will be 101 and I will be 114 when we finally pay off this mortgage?” Probably.
N.B. I changed the photo, per Mage. I thought it looked wrong, but was concentrating on the color and thought the photographer knew what they shot. The color in the photo above is different. According to the nursery, my blooms are Salmon colored. If I haven’t killed them by summer, I will show them at bloom time.