Frostbite...

...thanks to liquid nitrogen.  

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Courtesy of the dermatologist.  Then, later in the afternoon, sorting through boxes of scrambled, thirty-something-year-old Lego Dacta Technic pieces and parts to see if a workable kit could be reconstituted. Some of the batteries were corroded, somewhat resembling my face.

With Christmas coming in 3 days, the pressure is on.

The Soviet State of Wisconsin

Democracy be damned.  

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With the Republican party having lost Governor, Attorney General, and other state-wide offices, the losers are now pushing an anti-democratic, lame-duck power grab. Nothing subtle about it. Very Stalinesque. Because of extreme gerrymandering, vast sums of Koch money, Fox news and talk radio support, the Repubs still control the Wisconsin legislature. They are addicted to power, and a continuous supply of puppet-master money, and  they are now ready and willing to turn Wisconsin into a totalitarian oligarchy. Who cares what the voters want?

“Of, by, and for the people,” said President Lincoln. Screw that, say Vos and Fitzgerald.

I wonder if Gerry and Mander, and all the other rural Wisconsin rednecks, are going to like living in a totalitarian oligarchy. Maybe. There will be no need to vote. Also no need to think. The benevolent overlords will do that for them and then tell them what to put on their yard signs.

Way out in right field it's all about hierarchy, patriarchy, and privilege, slinging guns and thumping bibles. And if the Repubs can keep them folks resentful and scared it might be time to move to Moscow.

The Day That Got Away

One of those days when……  Big blocks of time spent wrassling the old Keurig coffeemaker, trying to convince it that it was not yet deceased. Unfortunately, in spite of my many ministrations, mortality proved to be the case. Of course, replacing it is such sweet sorrow, seeing as Keurig has as many slightly differentiated models as Garmin does GPS units.

On the up side, I made a batch of Wild Rice Casserole from the recipe (slightly enhanced) from the good old Family Tree Cookbook (compiled in 2005 by Ruthie and Niki.) The casserole just came out of the oven, and it looks delightful, and smells ever better.

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Fowl Weather

Great day for ducks. But at times, almost a duck drownder. Wild winds and sheets of driven rain, which, at, least, cleared any remnant snow off the small, already frozen lakes.

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On the way home from groceries Pax and I were dropped off on the far side of the prairie, for a good long walk home. He had not been out much previous, so it seemed like a good idea. But it wasn’t. We got drenched and blown sideways, but worst of all, noise from the University stadium (where a football game was in progress {some people don’t have the brains they were born with}) spooked him and then all he wanted to do was get home in the shortest amount of time possible. Oh, well.

Not a big fan of George H.W. who passed today, but I do admire him for some things. I especially agree with these statements: “There can be no definition of a successful life that does not include service to others.” And, “I have found happiness. I no longer pursue it, for it is mine.”

Shopping Spree

Well, not exactly a spree.  But we did go to Mayfair mall (Pax loved it), got a few things, but mostly realized that non-online-shopping is not-all-that-great. Of course, it’s hard to beat lunch at the food court.

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Pax and I got in a late afternoon walk, and on it saw waves of geese heading south.

Christmas is coming.  

Nice Kind of Cold

Pax and I got in a big loop and a prairie loop today, and although it was cold, it didn’t seem cold.  

Beautiful ice, possibly strong enough to walk on

Beautiful ice, possibly strong enough to walk on

With lots of sun, little wind, and the right attitude, cold doesn’t have to be cold.

Meanwhile, I made another attempt at writing an early-reader Pax story:

Walking With Pax

 On our walk today Pax went hunting.

 “Oh, no, Pax! Don’t do that!” I shouted. But it was too late.

 ***

 Pax was born to hunt. He has good eyes, good ears, and a really good nose. If I hide in the park when he’s not looking he can always find me just by sniffing. He also has sharp teeth, and he can run really fast. He has everything he needs to catch prey.

 When Pax was young, squirrels were his prey. If I let him off his lead in the park he would stand still and stare at a squirrel near us. Then he would slowly lift one paw and slowly take a step. He would stand still again, and then take another quiet step. He was sneaking up on the squirrel.

 Closer and closer. The squirrel would look around, but then Pax would stand still. Slowly, quietly, closer and closer…

 Then, JUMP! Pax would jump at the squirrel and the squirrel would jump away and start running toward a tree.

 Lucky for squirrels, our park has lots of trees. Pax would get close, but end up with only a mouthful of tail fur.

 When Pax got older he stopped chasing squirrels. He knew he couldn’t catch them.

 ***

But on our walk today it was snowing. It had been snowing all night so the snow was deep. Pax loves snow. He likes to jump in it, roll in it, and when he is thirsty, eat some of it.

 Today Pax raced to the top of the big hill in the park. He beat me to the top. When he got there he saw a squirrel, and the squirrel was not near a tree.

 “Oh, no, Pax! Don’t do that!” I shouted.

 Pax did not hear me. He was hunting!

 Pax did not wait and try to sneak up on this squirrel. He knows about snow. He knows that with his long legs he can go fast.

 The squirrel did not know about snow. It didn’t know that for animals with short legs snow means slow.  It got too far away from a safe tree.

 Pax was quick. He caught the squirrel before it got close to a tree. With his sharp teeth he grabbed the squirrel by the neck and gave it a big shake.

 “Oh, no, Pax! Don’t do that!” I shouted. But it was too late.

Auld Lang Helmet

Yes, Ellie’s riding helmet. 

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We spent some time adjusting the helmet before departing for the riding stable. Then some futzing with booster seats in the crew section of the truck (Becca coming with). Then off to the riding lesson, about 20 minutes away. It was only when we were puling into the parking lot that it dawned on us that the helmet never made it into the truck. With no loaner helmets available, our only choice was returning home.

Ellie and I thought it might be good to kick ourselves, while Becca offered up the idea of a punch in the stomach.

Disappointment all around, but at least there is small likelihood the auld helmet will be forgot again and never brought to mind.

Thought Experiment

Perfectly fine Friday here today. Clean-up, yes (mostly Sue), but then a walk around campus, and for me, a bike ride. No BF shopping. Advantage taken of the fine weather to fire up the big snowblower—in anticipation (winter storm advisory for Sunday)(better now than in the thick of it)(started on the second pull).

Thought experiment below the photo.

More concrete

More concrete


Theory of Justice

Assume you will someday be reincarnated. You know you will be human (not an eagle or a frog) but you don’t know anything else. You don’t know what sex, what color, what physical appearance, what intelligence, what handicaps, what country you’ll be born in, whether rich or poor, whether orphan or royal scion. You could be anything!

In his book A Theory of Justice, the political philosopher John Rawls describes a thought experiment along these lines.

In this experiment, you are part of a group of people gathered to design their own future society, gathered behind “a veil of ignorance.”  (No one has any idea about the next incarnation.) None of you knows his or her next place in society, class position or social status, fortune in the distribution of natural assets and abilities, intelligence and strength and the like.

So, given this setup, what kind of society will your group design?

As Rawls puts it, if you know you will be wealthy you might find it rational to advance the principle that various taxes for welfare measures be counted unjust.  If you know you were going to be poor, you would most likely propose the contrary principle. Etcetera.

If denied basic information about one’s circumstances, Rawls predicts that important social goods, such as rights and liberties, power and opportunities, income and wealth, and conditions for self-respect would be “distributed equally unless an unequal distribution of any or all of these values is to everyone’s advantage.”

Seems reasonable to me, but far from the actual situation. Certainly at this time of thankfulness, we can be thankful that we, as a family, did very well in the incarnation lottery this time around. But we can also think about those who didn’t, and perhaps work toward a worldwide society that doesn’t assign most of its people to a very unfortunate starting position.

Out of the Barn

Nite iceboat  #10, also known as Wombat, has been pulled out of Roger’s barn. She is now, almost, poised to slide without delay onto the first sailable ice. (And, as the photo below shows, ice is being made.)

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Ice-making is happening early this year, causing hope to spring eternal that we will get many square miles of it, pure black and unblemished by white. #351 is totally ready, waxed and polished and sporting a new cover. #165 has recently undergone plastic surgery and is now in the beauty shop getting gussied, and Wombat, old faithful Wombat, probably close to her 60th year on the hard stuff, is seriously planning on winning a race this time around the marks.

Odd Structures...

...in Whitewater.  Whitewater is not the place you would look to for fine architecture or quality residential construction. But it is a good place to prospect for rundown oddities.

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This fascinating structure straddles Whitewater Creek. Could be fun to rehab and take off grid with a small water turbine in the “basement.”

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And this place should probably be turned into a winery, assuming some of the vines have fruit.

Slowish Sunday

Bright sun and little wind, but, then, not much in the way of temperature. 

The beauty of concrete.

The beauty of concrete.

I’ve decided (been prompted?) to try writing a series of beginning reader stories featuring Pax as either the protagonist or the sidekick. And, since I have little else to say about today, here is one attempt. (Kids are scatologically oriented, one needs to remember.)

Not The Best Walk

Our walk today was not the best.

 We started our walk, and then we saw a man with two dogs walking towards us. Pax does not like those two dogs. Those dogs look mean and their bark is too loud.

 The fur on Pax’s neck stood up. He started to growl.

 “What should we do?” I wondered. Pax doesn’t like to fight.

 “Come, Pax,” I said. “Let’s cross the street.”

 No cars were coming. Pax and I quickly crossed the street. We walked on that side. The man and the two mean dogs went by on their side.

 “It’s okay now,” I said to Pax. But Pax was not okay. He pulled and pulled on his lead.

 “Oh, no,” I said. “I know what that means.”

 When Pax pulls and pulls on his lead it means he has to poop.

 Pax likes to be away by himself when he poops. He likes to go off lead. He likes privacy.

 But sometimes he can’t wait. “I know,” I said. “Sometimes when you have to go, you have to go.”

 This time he went right in a lady’s front yard. Even worse, the lady was watching from her porch.

 “Now what do we do?” I asked Pax, but he was busy and did not seem to hear.

 “Good morning,” I said. “Pax is sorry he had to poop in your yard.”

 When Pax was done I scooped the poop.

 The lady was nice.  She smiled. “That’s okay,” she said. “Thanks for picking up.”

 After that Pax and I walked home. We did not see any more mean dogs and Pax did not have to poop again.

 But our walk today was not the best.