Sloppy Start…

…to the month.

I don’t envy the neighborhood squirrels. Soggy and cold it is out in the wild. So, turning thoughts to popcorn balls, Dundee cakes, and molasses cookies.

Popcorn Balls

1 cup sugar
1/2 cup syrup
1/2 cup water
1 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp vinegar

Boil to hard ball stage.
Reduce heat to low and stir in 1/2 stick butter.
Pour in thin stream over popcorn, stirring until well and evenly coated.
Butter hands, and avoid burning them when shaping.

Lists…

…mostly of the Christmas kind.

Just random tree shots above—two photos not related.

One wish list included: Elemental Dragon vs the Empress Mech, Mandalorian Fang Fighter, Imperilin Dragon Hunter Hound… and, Tranquil Garden. Quite a range there, though all are Legos.

A November Guest?

Some creature left its mark in the snow.

Sunny and still, and above freezing by afternoon.
With the month coming to a close, here is Frost’s take on it.

My November Guest
—Robert Frost

My sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

Artificial Intelligence

Having come across a free and easy way to access ChatGPT, I gave the robot a try.

A few days ago

Me:
Write me a haiku poem about the first snowfall of the year.

Robot:
Snowflakes gently fall,
Blanket of white on the earth,
Winter's soft embrace.

Not bad. 5,7,5 for a total of 17 syllables, as required. And you can tell that the robot is really feeling the seasonal emotion.

All of us wannabe poets should probably move on to something like pickle ball.

First Sandhills

Heard the distinctive cry, but did not make a sighting. Phenologically, I don’t know if this is on time, late, or early. Need to check past records. The main migration has not yet started, quite sure of that.

The turnover continues, very slowly.

Pretty much a day that got away—on account of an afternoon trip to Janesville—for yogurt, birdseed, and fabric, none of which was needed immediately.

Winter Sky…

…or autumn sky?

Considering the strong south wind and unseasonably warm temperature, I’d say Autumn. Good for a bit more turning of the garden soil, and a bike ride (going across the wind mostly).

Above, a little industrialized space observed on the bike ride. There are countless places like this everywhere—home to weeds, a cricket or two, and maybe a few pill bugs. Nature strives.

Sails To The City…

…leaves to the dump. (Actually, to the compost site, but when it comes to headlines meter is important. )

Sail loft on S Michigan Ave. —huge loft area in an ancient and dilapidating building—and where the Heliotrope sails were built maybe 20 or more years ago. Time for some refurbishment. But too much time spent in the car.