Can Phoebe be 30?

 

Ah, Phoebe. The milestones are coming too thick and fast for your poor old mother. I’m still trying to process the enormity that was your wedding, and here you are almost a year later turning 30, then moving to the PNW before fall. I mean, slow down a little! I can’t keep up! 

You’re playing on La Gomera at long, long last, with your sweet husband and your dear friend Carinna,

On the Not Watching Whales trip we took when we were there...

But I hear there were flocks of flying fish!

 I’m here in a frog-choking downpour on Indigo Hill, feeling lucky and graced beyond measure to be your mama. Even if it means I somehow have to bring up a blogpost to honor your birthday, like a fully-laden heron flapping home to the nest with a craw full of half-digested fish. 

It's a darn good thing I got a feeling I'd better harvest most of the garlic today. It's safely drying in the garage, waiting for you and Óscar to take some with you to your new home! Not bad for a first time garlic farmer. Next year: Even more manure, and much more water! Yes, I grew it mostly for you and Óscar, Liam and Ayla and my three fabulous cooking sisters. How much garlic does one person need? Not that much, it turns out. But giving it away, what a joy.

 Tato wants to help me write, so he just leapt onto my lap from a sitting start. And I’m sitting at my drawing table on a high drafting chair. That’s not trivial. Yes, this “tiny ball of sunshine” has grown into a rather large, long, lean, turbo-sweet Boston terrier who knows what he wants and always gets it. 23 pounds of pure genetically hand-selected GO. I thank you for the part you and Óscar have had in making him what he is today. Still very much a work in progress, but oh so much better for your firm hand. Counting on you to keep working with him whenever you come home. 

Do you know you are a glow in my heart? Nobody can light me up like you and Liam do. Nobody can make me laugh like you do. Nothing moves me like seeing you together, speaking your own language, walking out the meadow with your chairs and crossword puzzles to go have a chat with Daddy. What is sacred? Well, that. Your bond with your brother, and the way you honor both him and your dad.

You truly were born at the perfect time of year, Poobs, the time when all the flowers come out to play and all creation begins to buzz and sing. I’m going to walk through the prairie meadow so you can see what’s blooming now.

The Grandpa Ott morning glories you gave me that twined around your front porch railing in North Carolina are losing their minds with the manure I gave them. I said I wouldn't let them climb all over the garden fence, blocking sun from my garlic and tomatoes...well...I guess I underestimated their charm and how much I love them. Next year I'll let them grow only on the north side of the garden. No sun comes from that direction anyhoo. Right. 

 In my mind and heart, you are tightly interwoven with the special and ethereal beauty July brings in both the visual and auditory realms. Summer has found her voice in mid-July. She begins to sing quietly, then more confidently, until the katydid chorus swells each night. 

Do you see him? He'll be rasping tonight!

It was into such a time, and into a riot of flowers, that you decided to be born. What a wise and special infant you were, and you are my wise counsel to this day. You look like you're giving me advice, even here.

                                                 Are you sure you wanna post that, Mommy? 

 I can’t wait to see what kind of life you and Óscar make for yourselves going forward, and of course, I am excited about visiting! Olympic Peninsula, here we come! Happy birthday, my dearest little bird, as you embark on what I know will be your most exciting adventure yet. Excellence got you there, and excellence will carry you forward, and I’ll be watchin’ and creepin’ and visitin’!! Wondering if I can buy a seat for Tato on a plane. Is that done?

Gratuitous happy birthday hot off the presses Tato content now. For you and Carinna!

I tried to get a picture of him with chicory this morning, but he wouldn't smile.

I told him to smile and not eating the chicory

He just eating more.

He's a terrible dog and you have a lot of work to do when you get home. 

All too soon, it'll be Bon Voyage. Please, will somebody slow this all down? 

Happy birthday, sweet Phoebe!!! I am so very proud of you! 

One last gift from your sweet Auntie Barb, holding you here. There's Ida, loving you too. If I've seen this Polaroid (likely taken by your daddy), I don't remember it.

Sometimes Even Anger: An Open Letter to My Rural Electric Cooperative

One of the Three Graces got a haircut. Can you tell which one? The co-op's work. More on that later.

By "open letter," I mean I'm going to post it here as well as send it to the Washington Electric Co-op. This letter was sparked by the June 2026 issue of Ohio Cooperative Living, a slender magazine that we, the co-op members, get as part of our membership in the co-op.

Jeff McCallister 

Senior Managing Editor, Ohio Cooperative Living

6677 Busch Blvd.

Columbus, OH 43229

Dear Mr. McCallister: 

As a magazine editor and author, I often read with pen in hand, but for the June 2026 issue of Ohio Cooperative Living, I grabbed a yellow highlighter. President/CEO Craig Grooms’ opening salvo, “Options for New Power?” opened with a bang. “As the electric industry settles into the new reality that comes with serving the power needs of large data centers…” At the end of his letter, we were informed that “as demand continues to increase, existing coal plants will have to keep playing an important role in keeping electricity both affordable and reliable.” So we aren’t actually ready for the energy demands; we can’t possibly be ready for them; and we’re going to burn more coal to try to meet them. Got it. 

 I moved on to “The Cloud Next Door” and actually started chuckling as data centers were described as “massive, quietly humming facilities” that might be “tucked into industrial parks, converted from former warehouses, or, increasingly, rising up from a farm field into the rural landscape—in other words, places where people live, work, and raise families.” It only got better from there. I was temporarily soothed by this avuncular statement. “When big changes come very quickly, often with little or no information that’s easily accessible, neighbors tend to react with suspicion and sometimes even anger.” Yes, we have some big feelings about our new neighbors. But wait. There’s an upside! 

 “Living near a data center isn’t like living near a factory or airport, Jeff McCallister asserts. “There’s no smoke, no crowds, and no rush-hour traffic jams. The benefits of a nearby data center can be surprisingly tangible.” Here comes the Jobs promo section, I thought. 

“After opening, they still create stable, well-paid technical jobs…” McCallister then contradicts himself by stating, “Employees come and go in small numbers, and there’s no constant flow of trucks. For many neighborhoods, they’re among the quietest commercial neighbors around.” He correctly points out that there are virtually no jobs supplied by a data center, once it’s up and running. A few technicians to make sure the supercomputers and fans or cooling systems are running, 24-7, 365 day a year. And they’re quiet, you say? 

 My daughter was run out of a small western North Carolina town and a job she loved by a data center that had a footprint no larger than a small CVS drugstore. A micro-center, by comparison with the data centers invading our agricultural and urban landscapes at an incredible rate. Ohio is #8 in the nation for new data center construction. We’re buying into it whole-hog, in the absence of any quality of living regulations, especially in rural areas. The small North Carolina data center was voted in by town commissioners and trustees without informing or consulting nearby landowners. It simply appeared, seemingly overnight. The huge powerline supports went up, silver X’s towering over the rich bottomland farm fields, and boom! There it was, a shambling collection of semi truck containers with supercomputers and noisy exhaust fans blowing hot air, surrounded by a tall chain-link fence, a mile from my daughter’s home. The noise was astonishing, sickening, even a mile away. No, Mr. McCalliser, it isn’t like living near a factory or airport. It is like living INSIDE a factory or airport. 

The noise was that of a very large jet, revving at the highest RPM, ready to take off. And that noise never, ever stopped once the data center was up and running. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, that gigantic jet engine was screaming, drowning out the birdsong and sending horses in pastures into agitated Brownian motion day and night. My daughter couldn’t sleep at night no matter what sound abatement she tried. I stopped visiting her, because, oddly, I need sleep at night. She had to give up a job she loved and leave a place she adored. She no longer wanted to live in a town that would secretly sign on to such an ill-planned and devastating assault on its residents. Thank goodness she was only renting; there are dream homes worth several million dollars all around the mountains and the golf course overlooking the data center, and nobody can sell their homes, because nobody wants to live on an airport tarmac, apparently. Don’t tell us data centers are “among the quietest commercial neighbors around.” That is an outright lie, and I am indeed reacting with “suspicion and sometimes even anger.” 

Here’s the warning, under “Reasons for concern.” McCallister states that “Data centers use enormous amounts of electricity. While that in itself doesn’t directly raise your utility bill, it can be a challenge for electric cooperatives to insulate current members from the costs of systems upgrades needed in order to serve such large loads.” Right there, Mr. McCallister is saying our rates are going up. We were warned! He goes on to cite water use, saying one data center can use 85,000 gallons of water to cool the processors handling one day’s ChatGPT prompts. Where is all that water going to come from? Supporting AI is environmentally unsustainable, it’s horrible for the planet and it’s horrible for people, as well.

 Nevertheless, “Co-ops are Ready.” Craig Grooms, CEO of Buckeye Power, states that “Ohio’s electric cooperatives stand ready to serve any data center that is built in co-op territory, but our members will not be asked to shoulder the costs associated with serving them.”

Sorry, Mr. Grooms. I don’t believe that for one minute. Even if you can shield us from the economic cost, which you cannot, the actual cost of my rural electric cooperative “standing ready to serve any data center that is built in co-op territory” is taken in the peace of mind and physical and mental health of co-op members. Shame on Mr. Grooms, shame on the Washington Electric Cooperative, and shame on Mr. McCallister for this screed, shot through with palliatives and outright lies. You can have no idea what you’re inviting into your daily life until you have lived next to a data center. Or a mile or two away. And we can be absolutely sure Mr. Grooms won’t have to live anywhere near a data center. He’ll be making enough off serving data centers to live anywhere he wants to. That’s how the brave new corporate world works. The one percent live off the health and well being of the other 99. 

To add absurd insult to injury, the same issue gives us rural co-op members some helpful tips on saving energy and our money. “Add an extra layer of clothes or some cozy slippers in the winter and lighter layers in the summer” and “Wash clothes in cold water to avoid using the energy required to heat it.” That ought to be very effective in offsetting the increased energy costs of my rural electric co-op welcoming data centers with open arms. Maybe we can all live in underground caves, to try to get away from the noise, too. It’s clear that, as humans who are apt to complain about our severely degraded quality of life, we’re just in the way of this much- exalted progress that is artificial intelligence. Not buying it. 

 Julie Zickefoose, Washington Electric Cooperative member since 1992 

Featured twice in your magazine for my art and writing. Ask Chip Gross.