and pond.
Bullfrogs captured, but no snakes. All at a respectful distance.
Back in Whitewater, some garden work (peas, chard, and radishes planted) and a bath for Pax. Normally the spring garden is planted in Kagawong, and beets and squash (with a few tomatoes) occupy the Whitewater plot. But this year is different.
Sunny and hot? Warm and dry? Thunderstorms and tornadoes. Forget all that. Whatever the prediction, chilly, gray, and damp is what we get.
Where there are kids, there are hearts.
Rotation of the compost bins begun, and the collinear hoe sharpened. Tomorrow some planting, in spite of the weather. At least radishes.
Hardly—especially now that we have a number of new cocktails to try—the Javex Julip, Lysol Sour, Draino Mojito, Clorox Old Fashioned, etc.
Stonecrop
In addition to new recipes, we’ve had some humor, in fact one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a long time. Whoever wrote the script must be a comic genius:
Cool and cloudy, though with little wind.
A little project work. Sue did our first ever online grocery shop (from the nearby Festival store). It will go quickly next time. I got in an 8.5 mile bike ride (35 minutes)(headwind and up hill both ways), and a few shorter dog walks.
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I’ve changed my mind about Bill Gates. I used to think he stole CP/M and turned it into MS-Dos, and eventually, Windows, all of which were horrible, and got horribly rich in the process. Now, he’s my hero. The health work of his foundation, and his current involvement in solving the Corona crisis, puts him up there with Louis Pasteur and Jonas Salk, IMHO.
In a recent Op-ed he reiterated the four things that need to be done to reopen and get back to buisness:
1) Testing—wide-spread; including self testing/home testing, and a national testing plan,
2) Contact tracing, including human tracers and digital tracing tools,
3) Effective treatment (therapeutic) drug or drugs,
4) A vaccine.
If we only had a government capable of doing these things!
How do you fit Katy’s birthday, Earth Day, a furniture exchange, a plein air birthday party, and a walk in a park into the same slug?
Impossible to write, but fun to do.
The beauty of concrete, in lots of unexpected places.
To the ophthalmologist for final eye check, wearing mask and gloves. Only one person in the facility at a time, and a temperature check prior to admittance. The doctor is difficult to understand at the best of times, but almost indecipherable behind an n95 and face shield. On the up side, I got a prescription for glasses. On the down side, the optical department is closed. But then, somewhere in the middle, I was able to order cheap glasses online. Hard to imagine a pandemic without internet.
Inside the bark of the felled ash, showing the artwork of emerald ash borer
Little traffic noise, no carousing, no robocalls, and nary a siren. There are some some upsides to carona.
Mask making and bug box building. (Of course the bug box could be called a turtle tote, snake satchel, grasshopper grip, toad toter, or frog hopper.)
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Hold That Thought
In the midst of writing
something quite profound,
the jarring chirp, repeated,
of the texting sound,
then timer on the oven gives a buzz,
incoming email dings,
the dog bangs on his empty water bowl
and, of course, the phone begins to ring.
Is that the neighbor knocking on the door?
Yes—and thought profound now’s gone forevermore.
—JBN
… bigger wind. Loud roar from the southwest.
Nonetheless, a 7.5 mile bike ride with Becca, Ellie, and Bri on the Glacial Drumlin Trail. Almost got blown off the trail a few times, but still good.
…but a little afternoon sun.
Make yourself to home, why don’t you, after eating my hazelnuts
Spring postponed until tomorrow.
We ran a few errands to Oconomowoc, and, along the way, stopped in to see Bri’s new office (distancing all the while). Very nice—bright, breezy if need be, with lots of memorabilia, and a big aquarium full of fish (in addition to all the computer stuff).
…and a wind that won’t unwind.
A few dandelions are braving the cold, and maybe some of the incarcerated kids desperately in need of recess, but otherwise not at all the kind of day you’d hope for on the 16 of April (in the midst of a pandemic).
Lacking any other pressing business, I spent a big chunk of time on two wheels, gloved and hatted and inured to the cold.
Spring hopes dashed by clouds and cold, but, then, hope springs eternal, and tomorrow’s another day.
Narcissus jonquillua
Coots, coming back from the south. Fulica amaricana
Met up with Sally and Glenn in Fontana for an arm’s length exchange of items.
Ferocious, cold wind, with snow squalls. Quite unnecessary at this time of year.
The pause button has been pushed
Wood duck nest box. But a close look may indicate that a wood duck is not the current occupant.
…to where it came from.
Photo by Sue
Cold and windy, and on top of that, a squirrel got into my planted, but un-sprouted, hazel seeds. The thief found them edible, which may mean that they are viable, but if he got them all, I’ll never know. Rats, is all I can say.
Pax to the vet today for his annual checkup. Pax does not like veterinary services, and when we get within half a mile of this practice he begins to freak out. But, the virus has improved things in this regard, and now we’ve got something like drive-thru medicine. Park in the lot, call in, tech comes out with a calming kerchief for the dog, tech takes dog in, tech brings dog back out, vet calls with with report, and then secretary takes down credit card info. This is better than the old way.
…not here, but at Flambeau.
Here, sun falling on leaves, then shadows falling on sidewalks, and tonight, quite likely, rain falling on everything.
Some of us are climbing the walls.
Others, masking madly. (of course nothing like the the professional quality items being manufactured by Mimi).
Meanwhile, other wastrels are riding bikes, though in a rather slow and meandering manner.
But, there is actually snow falling on water. This morning Abby sent a clip of snow falling on Tototom Lake. I, with permission, looped the clip and added some audio,
Standing still occasionally. Taking time to stop and look. Why hurry, nothing’s happening. Not even an airplane in the sky.
Leopold benches, ready for delivery
Things will be different after this. Government will seem necessary. Competence will be appreciated. School will seem heavenly. Generations will reconnect. Healthcare for everyone, and even universal basic income will seem patently obvious. The prophets of hate (you know who I mean) will be relegated to the dustbin. So, sometimes, bad things bring good.
Mailed out a few Easter cards, dropped off a few baskets, but the bunny is operating under restrictions this year.
Sunny with snow squalls. Vast amounts of cool, clear air rushing by. And then snow. Followed by sun.
Mask factory in the basement.
While, above ground, Leopold benches being assembled.
Perfect April showers.
Right amount of rain, at the right time. No duck-drownder, but plenty of moisture to really green things up. I can sit here on the back patio and watch grass grow, as it turns greener by the minute.
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”The hand lens and the snowflake were an awakening, the beginning of seeing. It’s the time when I first had an inkling that the already gorgeous world becomes even more beautiful the closer you look.”
—Robin Wall Kimmerer, Gathering Moss.
Warm, humid, and windy. Feels like thunderstorm weather.
Morning devoted to a grocery shop—decked out in gloves and masks, with detailed shopping lists. Followed by back patio de-bagging and sanitizing before re-transportation into the house.
Meanwhile thanks to the Republican junta, Wisconsinites are forced to vote in person, which means Milwaukee can’t really vote, which means a tea-party judge will be elected to the Wisconsin supreme court, which means gerrymandering and voter suppression will continue and increase, which means tRump has a chance of winning Wisconsin again. Pure banana republic, and utterly disgusting.
Meanwhile, on a happier note: Pastel de Elote for dinner (along with ribs).
