Fancy Footwork
Starting to pack up, but a quick afternoon trip to Fox Point to see everyone, including Will’s soccer practice/scrimmage (2 goals), Katy in outfit heading off to dance practice, and then Will doing a little two-step with Pax.
It Was Saturation…
…to the tune of “Fascination”
Just enough time before the rains came for two shorter dog walks and a longish (though chilly) bike ride, toward the end of which a stop at Sweet Spot for a cappuccino, and after that half an hour workin’ on the railroad, or at least observing railroad work, in this case the installation of the rail section prepped previously (as noted in the blog of April 23). Fascinating. This crew was good and moving fast (presumably because the next freight due before too long). Highly skilled and very quick heavy equipment operation, and then coordinated proficient use of saws, sledges, jacks, picks, shovels, pikes, welders, and other tools I couldn’t name. So far, no word of any derailment.
“It was saturation turned…to…flood.” (Best sung out loud.)
Wet Aplenty
I have to remember this next dry spell when I start complaining. And in the forecast, what appears to be more. At least the iceboat is in the barn, drying out.
Another kind of downfall
The Fish
Elizabeth Bishop
I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn’t fight.
He hadn’t fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age
He was speckled with barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.
While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
—the frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly—
I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
—It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face
the mechanism of his jaw,and then I saw
that from his lower lip
—if you could call it a lip—
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain and snap
when it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.
I stared and stared
and victory filled up
the little rented boat,
from the pool of bilge
where oil had spread a rainbow
around the rusted engine
to the bailer rusted orange,
the sun-cracked thwarts,
the oarlocks on their strings,
the gunnels—until everything
was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go.
Trickle Down Weather-nomics
As the sun came up the snow melted down. (Continued below the fold.)
‘Round about 10 a.m., as the sun rose in the sky, the east-side downspouts got to trickling. Then sometime after noon (long after the east-siders toned it down) the west-side downspouts took up the refrain. Then, by six bells, all was quiet—and last night’s snow was a distant memory.
Meanwhile, the new trailer (replacement for the one that broke an axel during the Nite nationals) got its final fitting out—including chocks, screw-eyes, and carpet—and, with #300 on board is pulling and straining towards Roger’s barn.
So, as we head into summer, all iceboats (351 completely restored after the collision) and their trailers are ready for next year, which promises to be much better than this year, in a number of ways.
Not Again, Again
But yes, more snow. The winter storm warning has been downgraded to a couple of inches, and though nothing of substance until 5 p.m., it’s coming down hard now. Good for the recently sown grass seed.
And, in other good news, we have received word that the ice went off Mudge Bay last night!
Lovely Spring Day
Perfect for fertilizing the blueberries, mowing the back yard, and giving Pax his spring trim.
Fish and Sequence with the neighbors in the evening.
Warmer Outside Than In...
...until a late afternoon front—windy but dry.
Heat off for days; house comfortable thanks to thermal lag. Changed the oil and sharpened the lawnmower’s blade—being in the enviable position of doing the first mow of the season, and the last.
Oops, wrong about the dry front.
Bud Break
Over the past few days—lilac, viburnum, serviceberry, maple, and apple. So far no oak or locust.
And here is a magnificent magnolia just coming into bloom.
Bail The Dinghy
Left outside last night, keel down, it collected several gallons of water.
And now everything is growing and greening at an accelerated rate. With unlimited sun after a few remnant morning clouds, it’s actually quite entertaining to sit outside and watch the grass grow.
Good day, too, for two wheels—both bike and motor-bike.
On our walk this morning Pax and I found a long section of unconnected new track (rails and ties) lying on the grass parallel to the existing line. After considerable discussion, and just as a 4-engine freight came rumbling and whistling towards us, we figured out why it was there and where it was going..
Swimming Weather?
Warm enough, and Pax thinks so. So…
…he beelines to whatever water is along our path, be it stream or pond, both quite different from his North Channel splashpad—and that necessitates a good hose-down when we make it home.
Not long now, Pax, not long.
Back From Land of Ice and Snow...
...to green grass and mid eighties—after Easter baskets, morning rows, lemon pancakes, and birthday cake.
She Floats...
...and rows both forwards and backwards.
North Woods Easter
At the Janowiec cottage again. Brought the dinghy up for maiden voyage, but still far more ice than open water.
Photo Shoot & First Grade Musical
Helping Ab with her current book, but taking time out to see Will’s performance in “Pajama Game.” He sang well in spite of a missing tooth.
Turning The Compost
From bin 2 to bin 3, and then the contents of bin 1 to bin 2. Heaps and piles in—garden residue, leaves, kitchen scraps—and surprisingly little out.
It takes three years for the voluminous material thrown into bin 1 to end up as a wee pile of black gold in bin three, and all I have to do is shovel, once a year, from one bin to another.
Summer Is Icumen In
Warm and sunny. Let’s just hope some of it gets up Manitoulin way, where according to Environment Canada the ice in the North Channel is still thick and solid.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
…from Inversnaid by Gerard Manly Hopkins
Pax Day
Tax day is Pax day. His actual date of birth and birthday are unknown, so he was, long ago, assigned April 15 as his anniversaire, and 2009 as his inaugural year.
And that means that today is his birthday, and that he is 10 years old! Happy birthday Pax. We should have clapped for you along with the other celebrants at Saturday’s big party.
When people ask me what kind of dog Pax is I like to answer that “he is a good dog,” It’s an accurate description. I would have loved to have met his parents and any siblings.
Today quite different from yesterday. Very pleasant sitting out on the back patio, late morning, in the sun, listening to snow melting.
Not Again?
Yes, more snow.
White is the new green
Snow boat
Above, Serendipity Lane, photo taken this afternoon, looking beyond #166 towards the supposed two-week-from-now destination.
And here is Mudge bay (photo also shot this afternoon) from right about the water filtration plant ,looking toward Gooseberry.
Thanks to Therese for the (wintery) Kagawong shots.
Big Party
Lots of fun. Thanks to Renee and Ab for photos.
Green Manure...
...beginning to show its face. Plenty of moisture and perhaps just enough warmth. (Continued below the photo.)
This manure is a mix of field peas, oats, and hairy vetch, mostly legumes, which fix nitrogen in the soil. Also, supposedly good for “weed suppression.”
The idea here is to grow this cover crop until it is somewhere between “knee high to a grasshopper” and “almost as high as an elephant’s eye.“ Then mow and till into the soil, probably in mid June. Then plant beets (we are down to our last pickled jar) and squash—crops that can do without tending. This approach is the latest in recent thinking about the galinsoga weed problem, which for the past several years has negated the possibility of growing beets.