...six below zero F at the moment, and going down.
To Fox Point for a theatrical play…
And then some basketball…
And then a dinner of deluxe, home made fish tacos.
Earlier in the day, starboard side panel of the TWEAK dinghy was cut out. It will be the template for the port side.
Also, super, blood, wolf moon and eclipse. Very visible and fun to see.
Six inches or more. And cold. Numb thumbs running the snowblower.
But in the basement, dinghy making step one—lofting—which consists of measuring and marking, and then using a batten to draw hull shapes.
Winter storm warning, but we know that’s overdone.
Snow starting just as we were walking
And this could be the start of something big.
The plans are on the plywood
Pleasant, well-meaning group of about a dozen on the communication committee.
Maybe I can be of some assistance. Worth a try.
conditions conducive to several walks, and even a bike ride.
Also good for a bit of grocery shopping followed by a bit of pot roast making (some for distribution).
Heavy clouds, chilly south wind.
So, while Pax follows the scent of rabbit or gopher, wade into the sea of grass that dominates the prairie. Get in deep enough to be surrounded by bluestem taller than you. Then stop and stand still, listening to the wind press through the grass. Watch the seed heads bow before the breeze. Then go catch up with Pax.
No blue or white.
Cloudy, cool, breezy. Nice Kettle Moraine walk before noon, workout at Aquatic Center after noon. Decided, given recent events, a swim not necessary.
...ice in the veins.
Photo by Tony (after the rescue)
Sailing on known questionable ice, and not paying attention.
About 5 minutes chilling in the drink, but good rescue by Bri and Tony. Lessons learned, damage to pride but nothing else, and all’s well that ends well. Very efficient emergency services got me a ride in a hot ambulance, well before hypothermia set in.
...plus a scrappy game of Chinese Checkers and some microscopy, among other things.
Will and Mimi down below the tower
...as Bri arriving home from trip and Renee and girls at a Becca birthday party and then school dance.
Previously...
All the geese you’d ever need. Thousands, on an ever smaller opening. It’s been cold. Little Cravath Lake was wide open two days ago, but solid now.
And here are suspended ice wafers, held up by twigs. As the temperature drops, the runoff from the recent rain diminishes, and the water level in Whitewater Creek drops, leaving a few bits high and dry.
At least a little bit. Marginally noticeable, though mornings are still dark.
Acorns
Cold, with a biting wind—Pax weather in other words.
A small gathering on a school night, and then Ellie off to ride.
Roaring wind all day, and temperatures dropping steadily.
...and lots of it.
Ponds and streams out of their banks. Warm enough when the rain quit in late afternoon to go fo a bike ride. Where is winter?
~~~~~~~
Out here, there’s a bowing even the trees are doing.
Winter’s icy hand at the back of all of us.
Black bark, slick yellow leaves, a kind of stillness that feels
so mute it’s almost in another year.
I am a hearth of spiders these days: a nest of trying.
We point out the stars that make Orion as we take out
the trash, the rolling containers a song of suburban thunder.
It’s almost romantic as we adjust the waxy blue
recycling bin until you say, Man, we should really learn
some new constellations.
And it’s true. We keep forgetting about Antlia, Centaurus,
Draco, Lacerta, Hydra, Lyra, Lynx.
But mostly we’re forgetting we’re dead stars too, my mouth is full
of dust and I wish to reclaim the rising—
to lean in the spotlight of streetlight with you, toward
what’s larger within us, toward how we were born.
Look, we are not unspectacular things.
We’ve come this far, survived this much. What
would happen if we decided to survive more? To love harder?
What if we stood up with our synapses and flesh and said, No.
No, to the rising tides.
Stood for the many mute mouths of the sea, of the land?
What would happen if we used our bodies to bargain
for the safety of others, for earth,
if we declared a clean night, if we stopped being terrified,
if we launched our demands into the sky, made ourselves so big
people could point to us with the arrows they make in their minds,
rolling their trash bins out, after all of this is over?
With the girls.
Photo by Ellie
And afterward some time playing with the boys. Bri in Rome for the week.
Two races for me, out of three, and I am still walking.
Photo by Sue
Beautiful day, but tricky sailing—ice continually getting softer and softer; and wind varying from brisk to nothing. I did not do a good job of rounding marks or coming downwind. But it was a good shakedown, and I can still walk. Sue come over to Pewaukee to join me for a late lunch, and to help me pack up.
Too sore to consider racing tomorrow.
Finally. The boat looks great, and everything worked (apparently reassembled properly).
Whitewater neighbor/friend Dave came with to Pewaukee—to see what iceboating was all about, and to help out. As might be expected, the wind was too light to keep the boat moving with two people in the cockpit. Other boats (two) were out moving marginally, but I did not want to head across the lake and leave Dave standing around. So, I got out and let him drive (with the occasional push) for a while, and then we went for lunch. The Sports Dock has the world’s most amazing tuna melt, and, on my advice, we split one. (They are not only tasty but also enormous.)
I was thinking that Dave might get hooked on the sport, but I get the sense he already has enough fun with his airplane.
At last. The holidays are over. The days are getting longer. Spring seems a possibility (and spring is followed by summer).
And, Wisconsin has a new governor, and he says he is going to use jiu jitsu to deal with all the lame duck legislation, meaning he is going to ignore all the restrictive nonsense and let anyone who doesn’t like what he does sue him. Way to turn the tables, Tony. And, on top of that, we have a new U.S. House of Representatives.
Onward. Per aspera ad astra.
Not so nice for walking.
Late afternoon clearing
Slushy and/or slippery. Penetrating damp wind. Dogs returned to their rightful owners in Fox Point, and then, by way of an outing, a late lunch in Whitefish Bay.
Big hawks and little hawks.
A large hawk (or more than one) has been hanging out in the park, which, of course, is very heavily populated by squirrels. Twice in recent days Pax and I have seen a raptor carrying a rodent. (The park has to be a very happy hunting ground.) (I’m thinking maybe a red tailed hawk, but we have not been able to get close enough to be sure.) And then one or more smaller hawks have been tending the bird feeders in the neighborhood. Big pile of feathers in the front yard a few days ago.
Today, as we walked the empty (but slippery) campus we saw half a dozen crows mobbing a big hawk. The crows took turns banging the hawk’s back. Pretty obvious that crows don’t like hawks.
Here is a shot of Serendipity Lane, sent today by Joan Lloyd. Looks kinda nice,