Dandelion Clock

Count the number of puffs it takes a kid to blow all the seeds away, multiply by 60, and you have the time. Or something like that.

A bit more poetry for corona time:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Faith” is a fine invention
For Gentlemen who see!
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency!
—Emily Dickinson

"Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room"

Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room;
And hermits are contented with their cells;
And students with their pensive citadels;
Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom,
Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom,
High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells,
Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells:
In truth the prison, into which we doom
Ourselves, no prison is: and hence for me,
In sundry moods, ’twas pastime to be bound
Within the Sonnet’s scanty plot of ground;
Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be)
Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,
Should find brief solace there, as I have found.
—Wordsworth

Sheltered, Sequestered, Secluded…

…from the weather. Cold rain, cold wind (and some snow). Majorly miserable Mother’s Day. Pity the poor parents coping with cooped-up kids.

Mother’s Day is supposed to be the day, at least in this part of the world, when it is safe to plant a garden and move indoor-started seedlings out into their hardening-off phase. Another frost warning tonight, however.
But, in honor of the occasion, a poem I may have posted previously:

Putting in the Seed

Robert Frost

You come to fetch me from my work to-night 
When supper's on the table, and we'll see 
If I can leave off burying the white 
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree. 
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, 
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;) 
And go along with you ere you lose sight 
Of what you came for and become like me, 
Slave to a springtime passion for the earth. 
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed 
On through the watching for that early birth 
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, 
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes 
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

Hither and Yon

Oconomowoc, to join Becca as she moved up to a gear bike.

Then to Fox Point to drop off a number of items destined for Lac du Flambeau (and to pick up the trailer).

Then back to O’wock to pick up some flowers (from super saleswoman Maddie) and say hi.

The boys like holding frogs, sometimes kissing frogs, and being frogs.

Frost Warning

But maybe the brisk wind will mitigate it.

I don’t think things are so advanced that a frost will do harm. Serviceberry in full bloom, apple blossoms turning pink, redbud budding red, but pretty much everyone accustomed to May being variable. And, unlike a normal year, the rosemary bush, instead of being outside under the apple tree fending for itself, is still indoors being pampered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
I have a lot of respect for Kim Stanley Robinson, the science fiction writer. His Mars trilogy, written years ago now, details in an engaging way how Mars will be colonized and eventually terraformed. He does his research. He knows what he’s talking about. This is worth reading.

Glacial Distancing

Meet up, with Irene, at Glacial Park, in far northern Illinois, just about half way for each of us, coming both ways.

Three thousand five hundred acres shaped by the southern end of the Wisconsin glaciation. Park open, but facilities closed, and, as a result, we had the whole sky patio behind the visitor center all to ourselves. Because the visitor center was closed, the only access to the patio was by means a a small sidewalk around the back of the building. Although quite a few other folks (and dogs) were enjoying the fine weather, no one else, apparently, thought about checking out the backside.

Irene, Emmy, Zoë, all good. Pax happy for the outing, too.

What Is So Rare…

…as a day in May?

Sunny, windless, just on the warm side of cool.

Farmers’ Market…

…still trying to function.

Dandelions know how to prosper, but they were not on the menu at the farmer’s market, although they are a delicacy in some places.

I should have taken photos of the market, but I was too preoccupied with mask, gloves, deposit boxes and the like to think clearly. Anyway, I picked up a dozen local eggs, a big bag of local spinach, a bunch of yellow carrots, a bag of bok choy, and a lemon-poppyseed cake. All items are resting quietly in the trunk of the car, decontaminating (as if they ever were). Sometimes careful can seem extreme.

Garden Work…

…on a much cooler day.

Hosta la vista, or rather, hola hosta

Without geometry life is pointless.

It begins well before dawn, sill darkest night out my window, which looks west. 

But there must be some glimmering in the east, because shortly after 4 a.m. the flock of sparrows (I’m quite sure it’s them), who reside in the front hedge, erupt in song. Loud. It’s hard to tell the number of participants in this chorus, but it sounds like many, and they all sing full voice.

With the storm window now replaced by screen, the song is so immediate it almost makes me want to jump right out of bed and start the day.

Apparently there’s a lot to sing about; the music lasts for about an hour. Towards five, the volume diminishes, as if the birds are moving away. And, eventually the performance fades to the point that other birds—cardinals, robins, jays, crows (and others I can’t identify) can be heard contributing to the morning welcome.

I wonder if I should try singing before sunrise.

Rhubarb

Compote for breakfast, pie after dinner.
Rhubarb believes in the original instructions, and every spring offers its sour pungency and array of vitamins to the people, who in days gone by, after a long winter, desperately needed it. The people, in return, follow the instructions by helping rhubarb find new places to live, and offering it fertilizer, and thanks.

Rhubarb compote on genuine plain yoghurt also deserves a great many thanks. Photo of the pie to follow.

Pax Amongst The Flowers

When you have a nice bed it makes sense to lie in it.

Photo by Sue

Summery day. Serviceberry (amelanchier, saskatoon, shad bush) in full bloom. Storm windows off, screens on. Here’s hoping this arrangement will last a good long while (before air conditioning becomes required). Bike rides increasing in length: this morning 12 miles at an average speed of 14 mph.

Bunch of Yerkes

Outing with (spaced out) friends.

Met the Habes at Yerkes Observatory, for a walk around the expansive property. We were stopped by the lawnmower man, who It turned out, has been taking care of the property for 30 some years. He invited us inside for a private tour of the largest “refractive” telescope in the world.

Spread out picnic lunch at Williams Bay, and then a walk along a short stretch of the lakeside trail from George Williams college towards Wm. Bay. Pax went swimming, of course, and, after that, and all the other exercise, is now pooped.

Drive-by Birthday Party

We were part of a multiple car parade, honking and waving, with signs and balloons, in what now passes for a 10-year-old birthday party. Unlike the other participants, however, we made a second pass and then stopped. Slight break in the rules, but worth it.

Drenched, Soaked, and Flooded

Much more water than necessary. Ground saturated, causing worry that recent plantings will be drowned. Whitewater creek out of its banks. And, now, extreme wind gusts, bending sturdy trees and dislodging branches belonging to the weaker ones.

Birthday bug boxes completed—one a toter, the other a two-chambered stationary edifice.

Watching Grass Grow…

…and moss too.

It’s possible to sit on the back patio and listen to the grass growing, all the while watching it inch upwards. Two days in a row now of warm (almost hot) and humid weather with afternoon (and evening) downpours.

Seeing Things

The exceptionally clean atmosphere, provided by Covid, makes many things clear. Last night Sue called me out to marvel at the brightness of Venus as it shone in the dark sky right near sister moon. And then, a moment later, after I had gone back in, she called me back out. “Come quick! Aliens! UFOs! Something weird!” And she was right. A string of bright beads, in a straight line evenly spaced, sliding swiftly but silently across the sky, just south of the moon. Fortunately for both of us I had a suspicion the phenomenon was something put up there by SpaceX. And yes it is—50 or 60 satellites, following each other in a straight line (like kindergarteners on a field trip), part of Elon Musk’s Starlink endeavor. A very strange, and rather unnatural, sight. Watch for it tonight; you will think an advanced civilization has come to Earth. (And we could use a little advancement.)

A Walk to the Woods,

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.

Ignore The Forecast

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.

Humdrum, Routine, Repetitive?

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:

Gray Day

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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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!

I Need An Impossibly Long Headline

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.