Depraved
Having a hard time processing Senate Republican disloyalty and dishonor. Hard to distinguish between it and Nazi collaboration.
Can’t watch the prevarication. Basketball instead.
Having a hard time processing Senate Republican disloyalty and dishonor. Hard to distinguish between it and Nazi collaboration.
Can’t watch the prevarication. Basketball instead.
St. Agnes' Eve—Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:
Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told
His rosary, and while his frosted breath,
Like pious incense from a censer old,
Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death,
Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith…
One of the greatest poems ever penned. Full text here: Eve of St. Agnes.
I like to reread it once a year on this particular date.
Cold, but perfect for snowmobiling.
Wet, heavy snow this morning, requiring the services of a snowblower. Whole neighborhood out, about 7:30, working on snow removal.
By afternoon, rapidly falling temps and a biting wind. While Pax and I got in one good walk, we settled for the back yard after that. And, to ward off cabin fever, we watched an Illinois basketball game, first of the year. Oddly enough, Illinois is somewhat back, ranked this week, for the first time in years, in the top 25, and number 3 in the Big Ten.
…and there goes the ice, although a few of the bigger lakes remain open.
Before the snow, a few hours playing with Ben and James, as well as Ellie, who was home recuperating from a bout of flu. Ellie and I played Otrio, which is fun (if you don’t mind losing to young people), and then did math homework, which is just about as much fun as anything else.
…are in the news. In fact a recent post on the newsgroup Resilient Manitoulin has them for sale at a price of $10/100, or ten cents apiece (for the grubs, of course, which are otherwise known as maggots).
It’s probably obvious at this point that blog topics are in short supply at the moment. Nonetheless, black soldier flies are interesting. They have immense potential. They reproduce rapidly, eat garbage and compost, and produce prodigious amounts of high quality protein. (They may already be part of our diet —disguised as protein shakes and the like.)
But I did not come here to talk about flies. In the photo above, the stripes are lines of dried saline solution, which is applied to sidewalks all around campus in advance of adverse weather. Nowadays saline stripes are a fairly reliable predictor of coming attractions, up there with the barometer. Sharp cold last night, today, and tonight. Ice is being made, but, of course, the snow will soon be coming.
Prof James and GroCo board member Ann, in their extensively and beautifully remodeled new residence.
And, after dinner, Sequence, of course.
…but torn between watching the debate and watching an episode of Mrs. Maisel, season three.
I don’t want to watch Bernie bellow, Biden bumble, or Warren whine. (Come on Amy, come on Pete.)
Pax and I tanked up at the flowing well and then walked a bit of Kettle Moraine, where the temperature was above freezing and all the iced-up trees were dripping off their loads.
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.