| Much ado about next to nothing
Soon all that will be left of this summer will exist in bottled dandelion wine in the cellar, each bottle marking a particular event or significant day. The memories of magical summers captured in a bottle. The new flowers, the absence of dandelions, the arrival of pumpkins, are Natures portents of change, but Douglas wishes summer not to end, wishes things not to change, wishes not to age. He wishes not to succumb to the inexorable march of time The same portents noticed by Grandpa Spaulding speak to us all if we only know where to look or listen. Crickets can tell us the temperature. To convert cricket chirps to degrees Fahrenheit, count the number of chirps in 14 seconds then add 40. Hollies laden with red berries are said to portend sub-zero weather. A ring around the moon is believed to foreshadow snow or frost.
FOCUS: South African Power Woes Complicate Central Bank Task
For South Africa's central bank, a shortage of power is looming as a dominant theme for this Thursday's meeting on interest rates. High and rising inflation argue for the South African Reserve Bank to keep its benchmark rate at 11% or even hike it. But electricity shortages, which on Monday brought the lucrative mining industry to a halt for the fourth consecutive day, complicate the picture. The mines look like they'll be able to get back to work within a week or a month at the most, but the problem could easily resurface in a country where the energy infrastructure hasn't kept pace with the rapid growth of recent years. The crisis, occurring amid a highly volatile global mood, may also raise concerns about South Africa's ability to finance its large current account deficit, sparking a run on the rand.
La Dolce Musto
Look, critics want to support a green caterpillar inching towards the sun," said the irascible old Jew. "They want to play God. But we're a butterfly!" And a fairly mediocre one, though quite funny in spots. The lovable egomaniac went on to wildly overpraise his stars and to interject self-adoring things like how an arrangement of one of his songs made him cry, but I was relieved to learn he's an equal-opportunity offender. "The Post is a piece of crap too," he conceded, "but the Times at least puts up a nice appearance." Aiming for a Mel-like insanity, the wink-wink version of The 39 Steps dredges up some clever stagecraft, but it tries to get a laugh on practically every line and, in the process, becomes as thin and labored as Christina Aguilera last week. And what's with the all-white production? (By the way, I can finally admit, while turning red, that the Homecoming revival didn't sound like rock music to me, either.
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