Ocular Upgrade?
Some morning shoveling, then to the ophthalmologist… and after that nothing much requiring vision. It takes a while for dilation to dissipate.
Some morning shoveling, then to the ophthalmologist… and after that nothing much requiring vision. It takes a while for dilation to dissipate.
… or at least pretty good.
No big flubs at either service at the UU church in Geneva, and, all things considered, we actually sounded pretty good. The protocol at the church is to wiggle your fingers rather than applaud, but at the end of the last number of the second service we got a loud and sustained round of applause. Surprised me so much I laughed out loud.
Anyway, good fun—and thanks to Irene and to Sue for making it happen. As icing on the cake (of which there was plenty at the coffee hour) Sue and I got to catch up with quite a few old friends (emphasis on old) whom we haven’t seen in perhaps 20 years.
Prepping for tomorrow’s church service performance.
Ice before the snow in Whitewater
Stopped off on the way for a visit with Trina and Chris. Lively discussion on a multitude of topics—and we barely got started. Driving from Crystal Lake to Elgin was a bit -white knuckle, but we made it before conditions deteriorated.
Tom is an artist of distinction (many commissions, paintings selling for big bucks) who, for some reason, has decided he would like to collaborate on some of my stories. This could be fun—two old-timers goofing around on a project, the first of which is the story of sandhill cranes called Tig of the Marsh and Wetland. After our cappuccinos we sketched out a plan. Then Tom went home to ride his horse while Pax and I took a rambling walk around the deserted campus.
From deep cold to early morning rain, to a flash of afternoon sun, to an evening of cloudy, dampish, windy warmth. And tomorrow a winter storm warning!
Finished reading Virgil Wander by Leif Enger. An unusual and interesting book. No four-letter words, no real violence, lots of fascinating characters, almost all of whom are kind, pleasant, and nice. Set in Minnesota—Duluth and up farther on the Lake Superior north shore. Recommended if you like kites, the north country, and skillful use of language. I suggest you “throw it in the pond and see what nibbles.”
“We all dream of finding but what’s wrong with looking?”
Single nighttime digits, high in the teens. Sue, Pax and I did the full prairie perimeter, and by the last stretch we were ready for warmth.
…including Whitefish Bay.
Lunch with Ab, a little shopping (more like returning), and then games etc. with Kate and Will. Chilly, thanks to temps right about freezing and a brisk breeze.
‘The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day.’
Ice, but not solid enough to walk across.
After a brunch at Rod and Pat’s, more practice with Irene. A few rough spots, but that, I think, is normal—from good to rough to better.
Farmer’s market, library, long walks in a chilly wind, the gray day brightening gloriously when, in late afternoon, the sun broke through the clouds.
…restock the fridge.
And, settle back into the Whitewater routine. Pax is a good traveler, and he enjoys exploring new places, but he finds trips like the recent one a little too restrictive and the walks too short. He prefers here, where he makes some decisions and decides which direction would be good for a long walk.
Back to Whitewater, after a good trip.
Terrace Inn. Dinner at the New York in Harbor Springs.
Our room
…from the Habes house in Michigan.
And here is Fish Town in Leland, being inundated by the high water.
…This Is It.
Around the bottom, then up to the Habes cottage at Cedar on Lake Leelanau.
Cold rain and colder drizzle. But, neither rain nor sleet nor gloom of night….
The life of the individual only has value [insofar] as it aids in making the life of every living thing nobler and more beautiful.” —Einstein
Perfect for using the lawnmower to grind up leaves brought to the yard (from the neighbor across the street who doesn’t care to rake) by Old Mother Westwind.
Not our yard
Pax and I are very much enjoying the deserted campus. Great place to walk.
The Hunter’s Wooing
—Ruth Muskrat
Come roam the wild hills, my Cherokee Rose,
Come roam the wild hills with me.
We’ll follow the path where the Spavinaw flows,
Dashing wild on its way to the sea,
On its wearisome way to the sea.
We’ll chase the fleet deer from its lair in the woods;
We’ll follow the wolf to his den.
When the sun hides his face, we’ll rest in the woods;
Hid away from the worry of men.
Hid away from the bother of men.
And then we’ll go home, my Cherokee Rose,
Where the Senecas live in the heart of the hills
By the rippling Cowskin, where the Saulchana grows,
We’ll go home to the Coyauga hills,
To the sheltering Coyauga hills.
So we unboxed the air fryer and then aired some shrimp.
Quite delicious.
Another mild and sunny day. (But a little winter would be good. )
Family party at Nies residence in Oconomowoc.