At Java and Friends Cafe

Keoni is visiting. He and I stopped in the Java and Friends Cafe in Pennsburg, PA, the other day. It was a happy sidewalk brunch with him, and a special enjoyment to discover this little establishment's special vibe. Keoni captured some images of it...

This is next to the stack of menus and cash register
where we placed our order.

Customers post notes...

Keoni, contributing photographer.

(Pssst...Keoni added the MA.)

I hope this brought a smile to your day. It sure did for me.

***

Two Hundred Sixty-Five Industrial Years

1761

2026

***

Hear Us Roar!

Let's reach back a few decades and review a little of what happened when an extended neighborhood scattered along the entire Tucson Mountains' sunrise-facing watershed got together to oppose dense housing and a shopping mall development of an approximate square mile of rugged, deep arroyo-crossed, sparsely populated, still pristine, Arizona/Sonoran semi-arid, saguaro, cacti, mesquite, ironwood, and palo verde tree-covered landscape; habitat to every sort of arid-lands-adapted wild creatures of that unique area of the world. 

The whole Tucson Mountain watershed, known simply as The West Side, spills into the south-to-north-flowing Santa Cruz River where the oldest parts of Tucson are clustered. This area is known as Downtown. Eastward from the river, the landscape gently rises across the broad valley for 15 to 20 miles to the Rincon Mountains and the Saguaro National Monument East. It's also uncomplicatedly called the Eastside. 

Between about 1950 to the early '70s, the Eastside grew with multiple housing developments and a couple of regional shopping malls. The quiet little town of Tucson clustered along the Santa Cruz River began its exponential eastward growth after WWII, driven by climate, defense industry and related jobs, and a lower cost-of-living. In 1950, the metropolitan population of around 50,000 residents had increased to about 250,000 by1970. Today, it's just over a million.

The Tucson Mountains foothills' rugged, sparsely populated terrain lay between the river and the mountains. By the late 1960s and early 70s, developers were running out of room on the Eastside and turned their attention to the Westside, the Tucson Mountain Foothills. 

Soon, in downtown Tucson at a Pima County three-member Board of Supervisors' monthly, open meeting, a development rezoning proposal of an approximate square mile of the Westside asked for a dense housing project and a shopping center located between Sweetwater Drive, Oxbow Road, Sunset Road, and the Saguaro National Monument West.

That's when the residents along Tucson's Westside showed up and said, "No!" 

That "No" went on for two-plus years. Again and again, the developers' lawyers presented various proposal changes, but always kept up pressure for higher densities. As they had touted on the Eastside, their presentations insisted that they provided good jobs. Yet, it was well-known that as soon as the last nail was hammered in the developments, the jobs disappeared and the house sales profits went out of state to corporations. Plus, all the new people buying them needed schools, water, roads, electricity, and myriad other infrastructure built or upgraded. 

Where would that money come from? From taxing the homeowners and small businesses, of course. Not the developers headquartered out-of-state. So, any shortfall to establish infrastructure created tremendous pressures and often led to the next development approval to help widen the tax base to pay for the infrastructure needs of the previous development. Now the cycle was moving to the Westside.

All this is to say, getting together and working hard on opposition to exploitation is a primer for knowing what and how in today's divided world to get stuff done. Knocking on doors, calling, going to supervisors' meetings, petitioning, speaking, barbeques, local political figures invited, and we were informed--a newsletter was regularly mailed. A community. I was part of it.

Here's one of the newsletters from 1973. The drawings and little poem reminder are mine. Contributions and construction are typewriter, hard copy cut/paste done by Tucson Mountain Association (TMA) members, copied at a local business, hand-assembled and mailed by members. To pause, press space bar...

No, we didn't chase away the developers, but we held their feet to the fire long enough that the zoning changes were much less dense, held to one dwelling per acre, and the shopping center went away. It was a long stretch keeping up the resistance, but enough that the developers sold off chunks of the property that were later developed by others as one-acre plots. The people kept showing up for those zoning struggles, too, and the subsequent housing was built with much more respect for the impact on the arid, rugged terrain and the Saguaro National Monument West.

***

Now our challenges are 

national

global

existential. 

We The People 

are showing up

again 

and again 

and again.

We Are The People.

Hear Us Roar!!!!!

***

With Our Two Hands

Waging Aging in the Kitchen (while talking to self)

What are you fixing for supper? 

Boiled eggs

What else?

Open up a package of Trader Joe Krisp Bread.

The eggs go on those?

Yup.

Doesn't sound balanced yet. What else?

I'll split open a ripe avocado.

Now you're talkin'. Anything else?

Yup.

What?

Slice of red, ripe, local tomato "grown in dirt."

How ya gonna eat that?

With two hands.
You added salt and pepper, huh?
Yup.
(Toby, I miss you.)

***

For the Art Part, Aidan and I sat on the back porch at the farm and drew the barn on our iPads. First a 10 sec, then a 30 sec one, a minute, 5 minutes, and at last did a 15-minute sketch.

Aidan's.

JM's.

                       ***
And another birthday for me rolled around. Aidan was here visiting at the farm and made a delicious dinner for his mom and dad and me. Here he's putting it together...

...and he made a cake for me from scratch. Yes, that's real strawberry icing on it...

...then we piled in the car and headed to a showing of The Odyssey. That was a winner, too! Don't miss it!

Keoni and housemate Nick orchestrated an instrumental Happy Birthday on 

an instrument of which I can't remember the name, and a ukulele...

How good it was hearing from friends and family all over our country and right here where I live, too. The remembrances and messages were endearing...every single one. Thank you again, one and all.

***

Two mama ducks came back again to hatch their ducklings in the large courtyard here at my complex. I saw them out one morning and manage to get a little bit of them on video...

And, Wendy sent one more photo of the Queen Anne's Lace growing in her round pen at the farm...

What's not to love?!

***

Ode to a Pothole

First, there was a deer track

to a creek running fresh water

for deer, fish, and birds

and beavers and wildlife.

Then it became a cowpath

to move cattle to market.

Next, it became a rutty dirt road

leading people with

mules and wagons to the market.

Soon, it was surfaced

with asphalt and a bridge 

was built over the creek, 

so cars and trucks

could get to the market.

After a while, the road

started to wear out.

So it was repaved

and as it wore out again

it was again repaved.

Some years went by

but no one wanted to pay 

to take care of the road anymore

So when the rain came

water seeped into worn cracks

and the snow and ice

froze and thawed

thawed and froze

so the cracks got worse

then bumpety-bump,

wheels broke this piece

and that chunk

until whump, whumpety, bang!

A tire broke in a huge pothole 

So the pothole was patched 

with asphalt

and the freezing and thawing

and thawing and freezing

made a new pothole

on the old pothole patch

but people stopped caring

about fixing the road

and it began to crumble.

Years went by

and no one used the old jagged

crumbly asphalt and dirt road

Instead, people made

a bigger road a mile or so away.

The old road grew grasses

from seeds blown across it

and pretty soon, it was hidden

among grasses and bushes,

even a tree grew 

where the pothole had been,

The deer found their way

among the weeds and asphalt crumbles

to get to the water in the creek

where the sagging, broken bridge 

helped the beavers

to make a new dam

for their home

where the fish swim

and the birds and deer and wildlife 

drink water.

JM 2026-06-25

Machines

We invented machines

to do our work for us.

Then we invented machines

to exercise our bodies

that became weak

because we invented machines

to work for us.

        --JM 6-24-2026

El Caballero Ingenioso de la Mancha

 

***

Oh my! I've fallen behind. I am not finished with my posting for Wednesday. But here's a place-holder from last Friday's Art Show here where I live. 

I rummaged around my art stuff and found these, plus some recents.  These are prepped for the show...

At the show...

And here's Sally, who leads our weekly art class where I live. She is standing by her watercolors. Thank you, Sally...

***

Pencil and Ink

Today, we'll visit the Art Part...

Pencil Sketch.

Ink Sketch.

It's a slow day here. All good, though. Just sleepy/tired from yesterday's Covid booster. 

Hope your Cinco de Mayo was grand.

***

No Kings #3

It was a cold, windy day, but even more folks showed up at our local, third No Kings protest. Sylvia picked me up, and we brought our seating along with our signs. 

A  friend took our picture. 
JM and Sylvia.

The following is just a snippet of the gathering. People occupied both sides of a quarter mile of roadway. Lots and lots of enthusiastic honking...

Our friend Susan was helping out, leading the chants up and down the roadway...

_______

Advice that Abigail Adams gave to her 11-year-old son, John Quincy, in the midst of the Revolution:

“These are the times in which a genius would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life or the repose of a pacific station that great characters are formed. The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. Great necessities call out great virtues.”

***

Answers from Space

The world we have known is rapidly changing. Some changes generate awe, others wreck harm, some to the point of evil. It's time to measure ourselves by that which we are made--then reach for our "better angels." 

______

From Artemis II Mission around the moon this past week: “You know, homo sapiens is all of us, no matter where you are or what you look like, we’re all one people...This brought us together and showed what we can do, not just putting our differences aside but putting our differences together to build on the strengths and accomplish something great.”

                                                              --Astronaut Victor Glover

***

And, a good time to reach back and remember a former posting...

Earth spins a full rotation.
We have a day
and a night.

Earth travels 'round the sun.
We have a year
of 365 spins.

In the back of beyond
are masses and gases
light and not light

infinity becomes finite
everything swirls...
everything.

Elements and forces come together
then come apart
again, and again.

Never-ending stories
of creation and death
again, yet again.

Stardust and debris
gravitated and became
a beautiful planet—Earth.

When water, air, and elements
were just right
we appeared

and live in bountiful
planetary richness 

we strive to comprehend.

This took 4,500,000,000
orbits around
the sun...

and 265 industrial-age orbits
to hurt the gift
we were given.

Our short chapter also holds
the answers to heal
our beautiful friend.

We are stardust made of her elements.
We know what to do.
We know how to do it.
                          --JM

***

Sunshine

While I was sleeping

sunlight traveled 

93 million miles

in 8.6 seconds

to begin the day  

at the Strait of Hormuz.

Hours later, when I awakened

sunlight streamed low

over treetops.

I arose to begin

my Pennsylvania morning.

No one owns sunlight.

Every single day on Earth,

the same miracle happens.

It is free.

That Lucky Old Sun, is the way Louie Armstrong tells it. We can count on the sun to roll around heaven all day. Lucky we are to walk in sunshine.

 

***

Phone Home

Please, I wanna go home!*

*Art Therapy

Frazzled

It is the middle of the fourth week of my bathroom's tear-down rebuild after water leakages over months. I have changed substitute quarters three times. Today at 5:55am EDT, on the 10th day in the third temporary dwelling, my morning began as I landed on the floor on my back alongside the unaccustomed, smaller, twin bed where I had been in deep sleep. Had I really rolled out of bed?! I was a kid the last time that happened. I lay there on my back. A forearm scrape bled much like childhood skinned knees. I couldn't get up. My knee replacements don't let me kneel to get up off the floor. I pressed my senior housing's alert button, which I wear on a lanyard to summon help. Time passed. The helpers first went to my apartment before determining I was in temporary quarters. The personnel helped me up and treated my scrape. 

It was disconcerting. I felt frazzled. 

The sky lightened. Soon the sun shone over the treetops in a clear blue sky.

Many, many people suffer from war. I had a frazzle. 

I am well. I am grateful. I will carry on.

***

Obama said, "[Rev Jesse] Jackson’s life inspires us to take a harder path. His voice calls on each of us to be heralds of change, to be messengers of hope…. Wherever we have a chance to make an impact, whether it’s in our school or our workplaces or our neighborhoods or our cities, not for fame, not for glory, or because success is guaranteed, but because it gives our life purpose, because it aligns with what our faith tells us God demands, and because if we don’t step up, no one else will.” --from Heather Cox Richardson's Substack, March 7, 2026.

***

Art Therapy

***

                 ...

***

"Progress will not come through boundless liberalism nor static conservatism, but at the critical mass of mutual survival. It takes two wings to fly. Whether you’re a hawk or a dove, you’re just a bird living in the same environment, in the same world."--Rev Jesse Jackson

***

What on Earth?

***

Overheard at the dentist:
“Since I don’t have as many teeth anymore,
do I get a discount?”

***

I've been following the Monks Walking. While we wage age or go to our jobs, our schools, our movies, our houses of worship, our stores, 

wherever we are,

whatever we are doing

we can

  Wage Peace.

***

Time to Transform

 

***

He Showed Us How

"...because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is on the land; confusion all around...But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars." *

MLK Jr.
A prophet in our time.

*MLKjr quoted this morning by Heather Cox Richardson.

What Are We Doing Here?

Four score and six.

Am I old?

Lincoln said, "Four score and seven"

at Gettysburg.

A lifetime, but not for those

who fell there.

On old movie screens,

calendar pages flutter by,

the story moves to a future date.

My calendar pages fluttered by

to this one,

my story today.

In the East, the sun rises

and goes down in the West,

rolling into night.

A day.

A night.

A gift.

***

    In Charlie Mackesy's book The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse, the mole asked the boy, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

    The boy answered, "Kind."

***

January 9, 1961...

"For of those to whom much is given, much is required. And when at some future date the high court of history sits in judgment on each one of us — recording whether in our brief span of service we fulfilled our responsibilities to the state — our success or failure, in whatever office we may hold, will be measured by the answers to four questions:

First, were we truly men of courage — with the courage to stand up to one's enemies — and the courage to stand up, when necessary, to one's associates — the courage to resist public pressure, as well as private greed?

Secondly, were we truly men of judgment — with perceptive judgment of the future as well as the past — of our own mistakes as well as the mistakes of others — with enough wisdom to know that we did not know, and enough candor to admit it?

Third, were we truly men of integrity — men who never ran out on either the principles in which they believed or the people who believed in them — men who believed in us — men whom neither financial gain nor political ambition could ever divert from the fulfillment of our sacred trust?

Finally, were we truly men of dedication — with an honor mortgaged to no single individual or group, and compromised by no private obligation or aim, but devoted solely to serving the public good and the national interest."

        --From JFK “City on a Hill” speech at the Mass. State House 11 days before his inauguration. (Also, quoted by Teresa Hanefin in Fast Forward, "Food for Thought")

***

What are we doing here...

“You must not hate those who do harmful things. The compassionate thing is to do what you can to stop them—for they are harming themselves as well as those who suffer from their actions.” - The Dalai Lama (Also re-quoted from Paula Borchardt - Visual Storyteller)

***