Rosemary Repatriated…

…or at least repositioned. First real frost likely tonight, so the venerable bush has moved indoors, to wait out winter.

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Afternoon trip to the library in Fort (because it’s such a nice place to be), where I picked up a book titled The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee (keeping me, at least for the time being, firmly positioned in things indigenous). And, below, the mural of Chief Blackhawk on a building in Fort.

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And, for dinner tonight, waffles with chicken. Chicken left over from last night, and Cornmeal Waffles with Cheddar, Scallions, and Jalapeno.

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Forked…

…almost completely, and almost ready for tilling, but interrupted by evening rain. Tilling should really be unnecessary, but will help with the planting of the cover crop/green manure, I do believe.

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And, the witch hazel is in flower, in time for Halloween. Interesting strategy—flowering right at the end of the growing season and making seeds the following year.

Makin’ Music…

…with Irene (which makes it easy).

Kentucky Coffee Tree

Kentucky Coffee Tree

Irene, a year or so ago, became a member of our old church, the Unitarian Universalist Society of Geneva. Her musical abilities were quickly recognized, and she is now responsible for the music for three or four services a year. At her request, I’m joining her on a Sunday in February, and today was our first practice. She’s on piano and harpsichord, while I’m on half a dozen different electronic wind instruments (on my Aerophone), including tuba. So far we have six songs and the doxology on our playlist, with one more song and a hymn yet to be selected. It certainly is fun to play with skilled accompaniment, and to have a reason to practice. (And, I actually think we sound pretty good already.)

Tournament…

…for Ellie and Maddie’s volleyball teams.

Here comes the sun

Here comes the sun

Maddie, center, back row

Maddie, center, back row

Ellie, about to return a volley

Ellie, about to return a volley

Ellie’s team, semi-victorious.

Ellie’s team, semi-victorious.

Ellie’s team came into the tournament seeded 10th out of 10, but ended up almost winning the semi-final match. Good playing, and perhaps some good coaching?

Poetry Quiz

A rather uneventful day of gray skies and cool temperatures, but capped off by a bright sunset.

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Two big events: the trimming of the rosemary bush (now at least 3 years old) in advance of its being brought indoors, and the making (and enjoying of) Green Texas Chili.

But then, in the poetry department, the poem below is, in my opinion, a fine piece of work, worth reading and thinking about. And here is the question: What are the 5 swords?

The Guitar

Federico García Lorca
translated by Cola Franzen

 The weeping of the guitar
begins.
The goblets of dawn
are smashed.
The weeping of the guitar
begins.
Useless
to silence it.
Impossible
to silence it.
It weeps monotonously
as water weeps
as the wind weeps
over snowfields.
Impossible
to silence it.
It weeps for distant
things.
Hot southern sands
yearning for white camellias.
Weeps arrow without target
evening without morning
and the first dead bird
on the branch.
Oh, guitar!
Heart mortally wounded
by five swords.

Storm…

…windows, plus yard work. But though no actual storm, violent wind gusts. And, last night’s freeze warning was all wet.

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Deadwood pruned from apple tree, and then, along with other brush, donated to the chiminea. All part of getting ready for winter.