Fog and Rain
And the end of an era, with hope we are not entering a new dark age.
Dinner and a movie (Hidden Figures) with Irene.
Fox Pointed
Fine afternoon in Fox Point hanging out with Will and Katy. Since Will is in school only a half day, more time with him—time to go for lunch, to visit a hardware store, and for a bike ride, on which we found a ditch and a culvert, through which we launched a flotilla of spruce cones.
Too preoccupied splashing around in icy water to take photos.
Don't Fall For It
Dark and damp, but with the temp above freezing all last night and all day today. Heading out for our mid-morning walk, I decided that enough melting had occurred to render creepers unnecessary. That turned out to be an erroneous decision. Crossing a steep driveway, very carefully, I found an area completely devoid of traction, and went down flat, somewhat surprising both Pax and me. At this point I am saying that no permanent damage was done.
Here is an amazing natural phenomenon, although and unpleasant one. An ash tree, infected with EAB, Emerald Ash Borer. Through some process unknown to me, the dying trees shed their bark—eject their bark—leaving trunks looking like someone had gone at them with a spoke-shave. Close inspection reveals that beneath the shed bark are multitudinous D-shaped holes, the sad signature of EAB.
Rainy Days and Mondays
Wet and slick.
The driveway a slipway. Creepers needed to get around the block. Steady rain all day, freezing when making contact with the hard-frozen ground.
Spalding departure about 3:00, on way back to Fermilab, and eventually Colorado.
Another Fine Day...
...with friends.
Another leisurely breakfast (waffles again, by popular demand). Then over to Pewaukee, where Bri had one of the boats set up, but where there was not the least bit of wind. So, a quick teardown, and then a lively lunch at the Sports Dock.
Drive through the Kettle Moraine on the way home, capped by a climb to the top of Bald Knob.
Excursions
Leisurely breakfast (my home made buttermilk/buckwheat waffles), then off with Spaldings to Delevan, and then Fontana. It just happened to fall into place (se tombe bien, as they say in France) that we got a private tour of the Yerkes Observatory telescope. Then we walked around George Williams campus and along the Geneva shore for a good way. Then a late lunch at Chuck's, oddly strange with no iceboats out front.
Ice along the Lake Geneva shore, but open farther out. And no wind. Bri did set up on Pewaukee and got in a surprisingly good ride. Maybe wind on Pewaukee tomorow.
Waiting For Guests
Groceries. Cleaning. Some pre-cooking—pickled beets, pastel de elote, tourtiere.
And, making a new squirrel baffle. The one in place the past few weeks was breached yesterday. One particular squirrel made up his mind that he could get over the disc blocking his way up the pole; and with that knowledge, he was able to do it. Of course, word soon got around. The new disc is nearly twice the previous diameter, and we'll see if the power of positive thinking can surmount the insurmountable.
Still cold, and the baro is now way up high, with the needle almost pegged at the top end.
Slippery Slope
(And everywhere else, too)
A skim of frozen rain overlaid by a dusting of snow, and all that on top of remnant ice sheets. Creepers required.
Visitors are scheduled to arrive tomorrow so we have suddenly noticed all the little things about the house that need attention (and we are attending to them). I believe there is a generalization lurking here, something like: "Guests are the best insurance against squalor," or, "An open door clears the cobwebs." Or something like that.
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The World Is Too Much With Us; Late and Soon
--William Wordsworth
The world is too much with us; late and soon
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I’d rather be
a Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on the pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
Watch Your Step
Today walking was a mix of art and science.
Nothing if not nuts.
With the temperature slowly rising above freezing the sidewalks were treacherous—sheets of ice in low spots, and mini glaciers sliding down from higher elevations. Even cutting across open ground was difficult—the terra very firma and very rough, with frost-made knobs and protrusions trying hard to turn an ankle.
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January —John Updike
The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
Weather A-plenty
Snow only the beginning.
Half pipe, flowing.
Shoveling the one inch or so that fell overnight proved ineffective. But then a roaring south wind driving heavy rain on a rising thermometer took over where we left off, and we were down to bare pavement.
Pax and I walked a truncated loop today, stopping by the post office on our way. I had on my waterproof coat, hat, and gloves; Pax went more au naturel. Arriving home eventually (due to still slippery walking conditions) I remained dry except for my jeans, while Pax, poor fellow, was a dripping, soggy, semi-frozen mass. Fortunately, after a good toweling followed by a good nap in the easy chair by the fake wood-burning stove, he was right as rain.
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Here's excerpt from a marvelous poem: Tennyson's Ulysses. Great at any time, but increasing in value the older one gets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ULYSSES
It little profits that an idle king...
..............................
...There lies the port: the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me
—That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honor and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs:
the deep moans round with many voices.
Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
— One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Anywhere There's Ice...
...and at least one hole, there are ice fishers and geese.
Even here, in little, shallow Cravath Lake, in Whitewater. Today, as Pax and I were making our big loop (chilly, but perfectly bearable, at last) we noted five fishermen and about a thousand geese. The fishermen were silent, the geese loud.
I know where these geese come from (or more precisely, where they no longer go), but what about these guys, and on a Monday? Retired? At leisure? Something worse?
I do believe that if one were to observe any patch of ice bigger than a breadbox, at any time and anywhere that ice had formed, one would find ice fishers and noisy geese. It's in the genes of both species.
And now, as I'm writing this, snow is falling.
Indecision
To iceboat or not to iceboat, that is the question.
Not here; this is just Whitewater creek.
Not here; this is just Whitewater creek.
One of those typical winter days when you think you should go iceboating but you are pretty sure doing so would be a waste of time. Is the ice good enough, is the temp warm enough (has to be over 10) is there enough wind, etcetera? Today Bri ad I went back an forth for hours but finally decided not to bother—ice not very good, wind very light, and still way too cold.
Old Man Winter is not an easy guy to live with, and is seldom willing to provide decent ice along with bearable temperatures and a modicum of wind. But hope winters eternal. Warmer and windier tomorrow— but with snow, of course.
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In January it's so nice,
While slipping on the sliding ice,
To sip hot chicken soup with rice....
—Maurice Sendak
Becca's Birthday
And what a party it was (at Bywater Lane) .
Lots of warmth inside, but outside another matter—another bitterly cold day.
Grand Girls
Filling in at Victoria Lane this afternoon and evening.
Including dinner out.
Iced Cream
How can cows stand the cold? My fingers fumbled just taking this shot.
Two-hour breakfast with Glenn this morning, halfway between here and there, to discuss healthcare plans and such, and to work on my healthcare query (the most recent version of which has been re-posted, a few days back).
When our meeting was over and I was paying the bill, I asked our waitress, an attractive, tired looking, middle-aged woman if she had health care. Yes, she said, Badger Care, with is the very limited and restrictive policy provided to Wisconsin residents who make just a bit more than the abject poverty level that would enable them to get Medicaid. She found it demeaning and unpleasant (limited to just a few doctors most of whom she found speaking a language she couldn't understand). But because she had a disabled child, it was a lifeline.
Still, she thought government was nothing but corruption, and she had the word from truck drivers that government systems like Canadian one sucked. I'm quite sure that if she voted, she voted against herself.
She IS the person my query is aimed at, and the one the Democratic Party needs to bring home.
Winter Bites Back
Stinging wind. Bright sun, so actually rather pleasant in a sheltered location. But dog walks another thing, and truncated by me, not Pax, who just seems to get bouncy and springy when it's really cold.
Had to re-tank-up on spring water—for coffee and homemade seltzer and sourdough starter. And of course, the flowing well never stops flowing no matter what the weather. What a great resource—right out of the Kettle Moraine, and probably just melted glacier, thought it's hard to imagine anything melting today.
The Big Listen
Once upon a time, long, long ago, the father (a management consultant) of one of my eighth grade students came into his daughter's computer applications class (which I ran as a business) to give, as a guest speaker, a presentation. (I encouraged this sort of thing.) The gist of his presentation was: "Telling isn't selling; asking is."
I don't know if any of the kids in the class heard a word that he said, but I did, and I thought the statement profound, perhaps because it explicitly stated something I had incipiently suspected. What he said is: if you want to sell a product or service or idea, or promote anything, you need to stop talking and start listening—listening intently and with genuine interest. I knew it was true the minute he said it, and I've seen the idea work wonders ever since.
And this is where the Democratic Party comes in: this past election—there was lots and lots of telling but almost no listening.
I am therefore badgering (this is Wisconsin, after all) the Party to initiate what I call "The Big Listen." Lots of town-halls, but with ordinary people on the dais and politicians asking the questions. And lots of what might be called questionnaires, on issues like health care, education, the environment, taxes, etc.
Instead of questionnaires, I call them Queries, based on the idea of Thomas Gilbert in his profound book, Human Competence, Engineering Worthy Performance. The idea behind Gilbert's Query is that of asking questions and then letting the reader (customer, client, citizen) figure things out for him or herself.
So I, with great temerity, have decided to create a Query on the issue of healthcare. This is a rough draft (I am meeting with Glenn to to learn the real stuff), and I know it's silly. Still and all, I think the idea is sound and points in the right direction.
Note: for some reason, the instructions to respondents was not printed on this draft layout. My bad. It will be fixed, and perhaps for now, it will still make sense.
Otherwise, the weather has been awful—dark, damp, chilly, gray, and now with a building wind—another gale warning on Lake Michigan. According to my weather app today's high was 107 and tonight's low will be 9. In this era of truthiness I give more credence to the low score.
Chicken Soup for the Sinuses
Plus cherry pie. Most effective cold cure yet discovered.
Time for some reflection, perhaps?
Well above freezing, with a sunny morning and a little light afternoon rain. Walking with Pax turned out to be a bit on the painful side due to residual iceboating effects, but the few minutes spent on two wheels felt heavenly—remembrance of things past, or anticipation of things to come? Not certain. Today's weather has thoroughly Zambonied the local lakes, and it appears that a deep cold snap might arrive without snow. That can't be bad.
Perfect Little Pond
Too small for iceboating, but a world of its own, with a spring, cattails, and a variety of wildlife. What, I wonder, made those tracks on the ice?
Previously.
Beautiful, sunny day. Tony and I back on the ice at 10 (after a leisurely breakfast with Abby, Katy, and Will— featuring Mimi's blueberry pancakes). Perfectly lovely, but no wind. Even so it was a wonderful winter weekend, and a good start to what we might hope will be a tolerable year.
Fast Ice
Excellent iceboating, and some impressive racing (by Tony).
The thoroughbreds (10 & 165)
Tony coming in after a strong performance.
Completely outclassed. Actually, a silly thing to try.
The Grand Slam regatta on Lake Kegonsa. Twelve or more Nites racing (taking turns with various other classes). Tony got a Fourth, a Third, a Second, and a Disqualify (for hitting a mark). He is fast. I got a 6th on my one race (but I beat a bunch of old guys.