Becca’s Holiday Program
And a fine performance it was.
Rambling With Paxton
While Sue was assisting Jayne, Pax and I went to the forest preserve at Whitewater Lake, and to the nature reserve along the Bark River in Fort. Not sure who enjoyed it more.
Decent ice, although the temp was close to 50.
Thank you, vegetables, for growing and providing nourishment.
The perfect shape.
Foundling
Megan Levad
—for a sixty-seven-pound nugget of Lake Superior copper found in an Iowa cornfield
Before the earliest flute
was carved from a vulture’s wing,
before we—what few we were—
bowed to the moon,
the balmy, secular night,
you were coming.
Snug in the great throat of a glacier.
Still as a wish, until its sighing end.
I like to think you waited years
for us, one shoulder greening in the damp,
the other burnished by long leaves
of wheat, before we called it wheat.
Or was it loess, the wind’s fine veil,
polished you so bright we would know you at first sight?
What have you seen in the ice and the earth?
Is hell cold, or hot?
Do you pray, too? And to what god?
Or whale, or bigger rock?
Thick Warm Socks...
...among other results of Xmas gift giving.
Morning chilly, damp, and gray. Afternoon, cool, damp, and sunny. Not at all like winter. Pax and I even got in a late season bike ride to the prairie—and he was up for some running after all the holiday-ing.
Late yesterday, after the gathering, Pax and I took a long walk. Toward the end of it he crashed his way through a bramble patch, only to emerge in a straight-jacket of nasty mini burrs. He looked something like an ambulatory bush, and his eyes were stuck shut. It took me a few minutes to get him ambulatory and sighted again, and then a good hour with a comb, once at home, to get him bask to his old snuggly self.
Christmas Eve...
...later than planned though still a bit early.
My Kingdom For a Horse
Ride ‘em cowgirl.
Duet...
...or rather musical piece for saxophone, with accompaniment.
The birds
An attempt, this morning, at a Christmas medley—with neighbor Phil on piano and me on electronic wind instrument. The result was convincing, and our debut will be......next year. (Still, it was fun.)
After that, lunch at the venerable Cafe Carp, in Fort—like stepping back into the 60s, or into a world where there is no such thing as a trump. People playing cribbage and talking poetry; and the food is good too. Evenings, Cafe Carp is a bastion of old school, singer-songwriter, folk-type music.
It felt good to be there.
Ducks In a Row
Almost forgot to post tonight.
A little more Santa’s workshopping today and neighborhood meeting this evening.
Mostly sunny, light wind.
Pandemonium...
...at the bird feeders. A decree went out (obviously not from Caesar Augustus, but from someone) that the feeders had been filled—and word spread fast. Today we had: red bellied woodpecker, downy woodpecker, nuthatch, jay, cardinal, starling, dove, finch, junco, chickadee, lots of various sparrows, and at least half a dozen squirrels.
So far no squirrel has breached the defenses, but not for lack of trying. I'm quite sure they will figure something soon—squirrels around here are quick on the uptake. I watched them pace off distances, explore launch points, and calculate trajectories. Quite likely they will sleep on their observations tonight and have a solution tomorrow.
So far, no sign of the hawk.
Walnut grove, with lots of walnuts remaining on the ground—winter sustenance for squirrels, besides the bird feeders.
Feed The Birds
Lots of activity today at the feeders, which were recently set up, but also lots of frustration on the part of the visitors, who found the cupboard bare. Pax and I made a special trip out for sunflower seeds and a mix of fruits and nuts (no safflower or cracked corn which are cheap but which birds abhor). I expect to see quite a crowd tomorrow morning when I sit in the breakfast nook, with a cup of coffee, reading newspapers on the laptop, and looking out the windows.
Mostly sunny, breezy, and cold. Barometer high, but just beginning to drop.
Some of This...
...and some of that. Today was a day of returns—dogs back to their rightful home and iceboats back to their proper storage facility.
Here's something worth contemplating—the Kagawong web cam. It's positioned on the Old Mill and aimed at the marina. As of this writing, the water on Mudge Bay appears to be open.
Three Dog Night
And day too. Buddy and Pip have been visiting, and will be heading home tomorrow. Rotating through three dogs has kept us rather busy. Pax and Pip need separate times and places because Pip keeps coming at Pax for some roughhousing fun, and Pax can be a bit brusque in telling her to bugger off.
Then, this evening attendance at the League of Women Voters annual awards banquet at which friend and neighborhood association co-conspirator, James, received a democracy award.
Christmas Delayed
Due to flu at the Nies household.
But Janowiec family here for afternoon fun and dinner.
Getting Ready...
...and then Mexican with the neighbors followed by Sequence.
Heron
Paxton
Nice and Cold...
...and, although it took all day, the wind finally quit. Chiminea got a bit of a workout burning up everything that came down (in our yard and Vi's) during the blow. Tonight we have the wrapping of presents since this year we are celebrating a bit early, in anticipation.
Making Ice?
Possibly, if the wind ever quits.
Cookout
Walnuts on the table
Conditions this morning on our walk through the park conducive to watery eyes and drippy noses—thankful for mittens rather than gloves. Above freezing for a bit in the afternoon, but, with a clear sky, dropping well below tonight. And the wind finally seems to be subsiding. The recipe for ice is calm with cold, so we may see some forming.
And, possibly the first race of the season next weekend, on Lake Puckaway, sponsored by the Puckaway Ice Sailing Society, or....for short.
Roaring Wind
Gusts enough to knock a person sideways. And cold. I do believe winter, long delayed, is hurrying back. I'm trying to imagine what it's like over on the west Michigan shore.
Last night
Freakish Weather
Sixty five, with fifty mph wind gusts, rain squalls, and thunderstorms—winter supposedly arriving later tonight.
Day spent down south, with Sue helping Jayne, and me helping Irene install shelving and and hangers, and then beginning the organization of her new garage. Thai takeaway for dinner. At dinner Irene brought out a few relic photos she uncovered in her move (from 1977).
Writer’s Block
It is hard sometimes to come up with things of substantial significance, especially when not much of significance happens.
We did have a good dinner last night—chicken with lemon over maple syrup enhanced home-grown squash.
Another repeat of the weather pattern—cold last night under a clear sky, warming into the 50s by afternoon. The forecast, however, has the pattern finally breaking.
Bright super moon in the backyard.
A Quiet Day...
...in noisy village.
No wind, few cars, few people, few dogs, and not a single siren. Quiet, for some reason. Pax and I had a good, long ride.
But, a work stoppage in Santa's workshop while holiday decorations were installed. We are festive now, with no sign of a war on Xmas.
The Glass Remains High...
...and the pattern holds—cool nights, pleasant days, with no sign of winter. Good for bike riding.
Shagbark
When the Winter Chrysanthemums Go
by Matsuo Basho
When the winter chrysanthemums go,
there's nothing to write about
but radishes.
```````
by JBN
When the autumn hydrangeas go,
there’s nothing to write about
but lack of snow.
~~~~~~~
Recommend Radio Free Vermont, by climate activist and founder of 350.org, Bill McKibben. Quick, fun "eco-activism" novel, in the vein of Edward Abbey's Monkey Wrench Gang.