Neighbors...For Dinner
James and Anne, fellow activists from one street over. Neighborhood association and grocery store startup. Lots of neighborhood gossip, a little politics, and then Sequence.
Colder Than...
...Christmas in Canada, among other things.
Double digits below zero (F) on this morning’s short walk. In spite of Musher’s Secret on his paws, Pax ended up lifting his feet. However, he very much seemed to enjoy the afternoon walk, when the temperature was right about the zero point.
Bow and stern transoms lofted and cut out, along with a T-shaped bow reinforcement of my own design. A stern reinforcement will be devised later, when what’s needed becomes more obvious.
Bookin’ Down The Highway
To Worzolla in Stevens Point to pick up, and then deliver to Fox Point, a truckload of books.
Used a lot of windshield solvent, and now the weather’s getting worse—windchill advisory with below zero temps.
Not much time to work on dinky building, but the bottom panels got drilled. And now we are at the stage of self-doubt—how accurate were the measurements? Were the up-side-down things done right-side-up? Because, looking at the side panels, and then at the bottom panels, it would appear that there is clearly no way they could all fit together.
Snow Day
Schools, and pretty much everything else, closed or opening late.
A good chunk of the morning got allocated to the moving of snow—not just for our place but also for various neighbors. Had planned to work on the dinghy project, but didn’t get to that until well after 2. Nonetheless, the two bottom panels have been cut and faired.
Another Winter Warning...
...and, yes, the snow has begun.
The two dinghy side panels have been faired and drilled. The drilling—itty-bitty holes every 4 inches along the edge—are for the copper wire stitches that will hold things together until the epoxy/fiberglass takes over. When the drilling was done, the logical next step was lofting one of the bottom panels.
If I cut and fair it, and it’s twin, tomorrow, along with the two transoms, it will be stitching time.
Gymnastics
Took Maddie to practice this evening.
Second dinghy side panel cut out, and the two panels almost match.
Deep Six...
...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.
In Deep
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.
Here Comes Winter
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
Among The Democrats
Pleasant, well-meaning group of about a dozen on the communication committee.
Maybe I can be of some assistance. Worth a try.
Nice To See The Sun
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).
Dull Day
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.
Gray and Brown
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.
Through The Glass Darkly, or...
...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.
Hike At The Audubon...
...plus a scrappy game of Chinese Checkers and some microscopy, among other things.
Will and Mimi down below the tower
With The Boys...
...as Bri arriving home from trip and Renee and girls at a Becca birthday party and then school dance.
Previously...
Goose Hole
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.
Lighter Later
At least a little bit. Marginally noticeable, though mornings are still dark.
Acorns
Cold, with a biting wind—Pax weather in other words.
Happy Fifth Becca
A small gathering on a school night, and then Ellie off to ride.
Roaring wind all day, and temperatures dropping steadily.
January Rain...
...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?
~~~~~~~
Dead Stars
Ada Limón
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?