Month: February 2020

I’m still going through boxes and stashed stuff.  The latest find was some very fine merino fiber for spinning that I don’t remember buying.  It must have been a long time ago. Fortunately, when I bought it I bought a full pound so whatever it turns out to be, I’ll have plenty.

Before drafting the colours are easily seen … pink, soft blue, light yellow, and an almost invisible lavender.  The dyer called it “Unicorn”. But because I spin cobwebs, when I draft it the distinct colours fade. It becomes a soft mist. You see the colours, but they aren’t separate.  Different, but lovely. It resembles what I imagine you’d see if you saw a rainbow through fog.

Too bad I don’t know anyone having a baby.  It would make a nice christening shawl.

~~~

Sunrise has moved decidedly north.  I once again have morning rainbows all over my room from the crystals hanging in my east window.  It is always a treat when the year turns enough for my mornings to again be blazing. 

Of course that will change in about a week when Pacific Standard Time becomes Pacific Daylight Time and morning comes an hour later.

Oh well …

~~~

Another friend is now a widow.  

During the days and weeks after George died, I thought a lot about grieving and how it “should” be done.  I thought about cultural customs and taboos … about how some European cultures wear black arm bands for a designated period of time and those seeing the band recognize the mourner’s needs; about how some indigenous cultures require physical signs of loss  such as cutting your hair; about acceptance of weeping in public; about withdrawing; about funeral services (which would seem to actually be for those attending … possibly an apology for whatever was left undone); about religious beliefs and practices; about how to best support the mourners; about …

My conclusion (so far) … we could be doing a lot better for those grieving. 

If you ask a mourner “What do you miss most?”, the answer is often “Being touched.” or “Knowing there is someone who thinks I’m special.”

I have come to think the Jewish custom of sitting shiva has a lot to offer.  Those of us/you who are grieving can just grieve and those who care for us/you (both emotionally and physically) can respond … we need to be quiet, they can just sit; we need food, they can feed; we need to talk, they can listen; we need to cry, they can hand tissues; we need reassurance , they can smile and/or hug …

I read once that grief hits so deep it can’t be seen. However, I believe it can be seen. It is just that you must look with the intent to see.

End of contemplation …

~~~

Remember I told you last week about the small book of poetry which had made its way from Redlands in California to Tampa in Florida to me here in far northern California and is now in Colorado?  Well … here’s the rest of the story.

As you may (or may not) know, I grew up in a small southern California farm and ranching town named Hemet.  It has a twin town named San Jacinto (pronounced san haw- sint’-toe).  

I graduated from Hemet Union High School shortly after WWII.

Ona Jane Meens, who wrote the poetry in the found book, lived in Redlands when her book was printed in 1965, less than a hundred miles from Hemet-San Jacinto.  Some time not too long after that, she moved with her husband and son to … yup … Hemet. I had moved on by that time and the town had become a city. Ona’s granddaughter was born in Hemet where my mother was a nurse in the hospital OB unit.  She graduated from Hemet Union High and married a boy from San Jacinto. She is now living in Colorado and is the one to whom I returned the book.

I got this last sunday … “My grandmother’s book arrived! Thank you so much for sending it to me. I’m so surprised that you actually found me. Thank you again.”

Okay … all together now … It’s a Small, Small World.

~~~

Some time ago I bought a Peace Lily to put in my room as an air cleanser (an attribute researched and proven by NASA).  She had outgrown her pot, so last thursday I undertook to repot her. Wow …

By the time I finished I had a nice new plant for the desk area in my room, a smaller plant for my bathroom, a plant for Tyler’s place, three starts to share with friends, and had discarded several small starts which didn’t seem to have adequate root growth for survival (after thanking them for their past help with my room air … yup, I talk to plants).

Next up for division and repotting … white holiday cactus.

And as an aside … my red holiday cactus is budding for the second time this season.

~~~

And finally … I just saw this and it hit home …  

You ask, “How can I be happy if I am not?”

The answer … “Do something simple. Think good thoughts, speak good things, do good deeds, behave the way a joyful person behaves  – even if you don’t fully feel it inside. Eventually, the inner joy of your soul will break through.”

So … ‘til next week …

It’s been one of those weeks … part up, part down.

Three more friends to be removed from my contacts list.  At this age that seems to be a given … if not weekly, at least monthly.

~~~

But a good thing …

Some time ago, a genealogical cousin with whom I am in contact, sent me a small book of poetry which he had found in a book sale where he lives (Tampa, Florida).  It was written in the 1960s by a woman living in Redlands, California.

I read it and found a couple of interesting pieces, but all in all (imho) it isn’t very good poetry.  However … being a genealogist, I thought there might be a family member out there somewhere who would want to have it.

Next step was to put a note on several genealogist facebook pages with the information and see what happened.  What happened was that several other genealogists jumped in and I wound up with some names, addresses, and phone numbers.  AHA … off I went … and here is where you make an O with your finger and thumb and shake your head.

The names I got all seemed legit, but contacting them turned into a frustrating enterprise.  The phone numbers I found were incorrect, disconnected, or just didn’t answer. There were no email addresses available, and I didn’t have the money, time, or inclination to write to them all.

Then saturday, one of the phone outreaches worked.  I got an email from a granddaughter in Colorado and the book is on its way to its new home.

Kaloo Kalay !!!

~~~

The chickens are no longer escaping into danger.  And we’re still getting a dozen plus eggs a day. I attribute it to me giving them a can of corn scratch (Mark calls it “chicken candy”) at bedtime every day.  

We won’t be getting chicks this spring.  The older hens have at least another year of productivity left in them and the whites have two or three years to go.

Too bad.  Everyone seems to enjoy chicks.

Oh well …

~~~

The Metropolitan Opera schedule for the 2020-2021 season was released last week.  Exciting. We know which ones will be in theatres and so available for us out here in the boonies … and I’ve got my list.  I had hoped to see Hoffman, Tristan, Rusalka, and Billy Budd but they aren’t on the list.

Oh well …

~~~

I’ve ordered the first plants for what I hope will become a butterfly-hummer garden out in the courtyard area.  I’m starting small and rebuilding. Paul asked if we can get it ready so we can eat outdoors this summer. That tradition sort of dropped away while I was adjusting to my new status as widow.  Now I need to re-establish good habits.

I’ve chosen to replace the lavender which fell victim to no-place-else-to-tie-up-the-dog with possibly a witch hazel in the middle.  I am also putting in some salvias, a butterfly bush, a dragonfly periwinkle, and moving and resettling the all-heal. I may have to also resettle an apple tree which has been set out for several years and isn’t doing anything where it is.  It hasn’t died, just not thriving.

And another section of the courtyard will begin my herbal garden.  More about that later.

Weather is moving toward spring (although it is still cold … 22 this morning). I hope to get started with cleaning up later this week.  I will probably begin with raking up the grape and wisteria leaves and scattering them where I plan to put the salvias etc. then add some of the aged horse manure I got from a neighbor before George died … it is well aged.  That should give the plants a good start.  

I also plan to talk to them a lot.

~~~

The radio club is voting on whether or not to cover the endurance run next July.  I gave them until next friday to make their decision. So far the vote is 2:1 against participation as a club.  If that holds I’m off the hook for planning.  The names of all in favor of the event will be forwarded to the two hams doing the planning and so those interested will have the chance to participate.

Seems like the best solution.

~~~

I’ve been spinning the red and white merino bamboo mix.  It is so smooth and easy. Next up will be a soft pink … a cowl for a friend’s birthday.  I’m not really a pink person, but she is.

As I’ve told you, spinning for me is relaxation and meditation.  While spinning last week I made an interesting discovery. It was the 50somethingth (is that proper language?) anniversary of the arrival of the Beatles in the US and Sirius was doing a Beatles heavy day. I (being a longtime Beatles fan) was listening.

Great listening!  

Not so good for spinning.  It seems I can relax and spin with symphony hall stuff playing.  But with Beatles I tend to sing along and lose count, and that messes with my bobbin loads.  And the same thing happens at the 40s Junction. More than seventy years and I remember most of those lyrics.

Oh well …

~~~

The California primary is coming up.  I have voted absentee for some time now and cast my ballot last week.

So here’s a pitch … we all have the opportunity to have a say.  I consider it a duty and have felt that way ever since my first vote in 1952 (in those days you had to be at least twenty-one to vote or to do a lot of other things).  

So, if you haven’t already voted …  when it’s your turn, VOTE!  If you agree with my choices, good for you.  If not, it’s your choice. Just make sure you vote.

~~~

Now, when we are all dealing with so many political lies, I thought this Yiddish proverb was apropo …

Even a half truth is a whole lie.

So … ‘til next week …

I’ve been reading a “non-fiction” history of the Comanche Wars in Texas over the late 18th, 19th, and early 20th centuries.  There is an interesting quote that caught my eye (on page 102, “Empire of the Summer Moon” by S. C. Gwynne) …

There is history that is based on hard, documented fact; history that is colored with rumor, speculation, or falsehood; and history that exists in what might be termed the hinterlands of the imagination.

So far this book seems to be a bit of the first two categories with a smattering of the third.

I’ve been learning a lot about what was going on in the area, which became the state of Texas, while the eastern coast colonies were establishing themselves, the Mexican west coast of the continent was being invaded by overflow from the east coast, and the fairly new United States was fighting a Civil War.  Indigenous peoples all over the place didn’t have a chance.  

Of course, they were no saints either.

~~~

Spinning has been taking up some, and a bit more, of my time.  I got some merino/silk fiber in shades of rose with whisps of pure white.  The supplier called it “Ares” (from the Zodiac). But I think it is a bit more Scorpio.  It is a little soft for the god of war. That would need to be hotter … more on the orange side of red.  But Scorpio is the sign of passion and a nice rose seems to suit.  

A group I belong to has a silent auction as a fundraiser and I think I’ll finish spinning this, knit a lacy cowl, put something about the nature of those born under the sign of Scorpio on the tag with washing instructions, and put it in the sale.  

Even  had thoughts about doing the entire Zodiac.

~~~

Life with chickens is never dull.

Living where we do, predators are always a concern.  One way and another we are down to nineteen hens from a high of twenty-six (nineteen’s plenty since they average fourteen eggs a day). But we had been having trouble with the whites being out of the yard every day.  It had gotten so that there were usually two out when I went to water and collect eggs. After a few trips out, they would follow me to the hen house door and go back in with the others.  Sunday night they were in a hurry and went in between my feet. And the number had risen to three and then to four.  

We thought they were flying over the fence, which is a good six feet high, and so Mark caught some of those getting out and cut wing and tail feathers.  But they continued to get out. Then sunday Mark said he thought they were going under the fence so I walked a perimeter check and found one corner where the “dust” site had been deepened enough.  

Problem solved.

Population is now holding at five browns, five blacks, two barred, and seven whites.

~~~

Last evening was the monthly meeting of the local landowners’ association (of which I am Secretary).  A couple of items were timely.

Our local fire company, which began as a smalltime volunteer group, has become a “district” for which the firefighters are independent, individual contractors with the County.  That is a designation the folks in this area are having a bit of trouble understanding. It is a result of being funded by a tax. Mark is trying his best to instruct in re the situation, but folks can be stubborn in holding onto old ideas.  The big thing coming up is a new pumper. I think it’s a pumper anyhow. The current piece of equipment is over thirty years old and a question came up about who is paying. I’m glad I’m not on the committee sorting through the ins and outs of bureaucracy money.

Another situation is fireworks and noise abatement.  Until the influx of Bay area money (Silicone Valley) ten or fifteen years ago, gunshots and noise makers weren’t a problem.  Now that there are more and more houses naturally closer together, it is becoming a problem. Current increased fire danger adds to the mix. It will take some time, and some headbutting with gun folks and fireworks enthusiasts, to get that under control.

And street numbers … stay tuned.

~~~

The summer planning for radio events has started.  The California Untamed endurance run is BIG and will require a lot of interagency and club cooperation.  I hope I will be able to hand off the task to some other ham soon and be just the “overall” event coordinator.

It will be a big event and is going to require a lot more planning than our current local events.  It is even looking as if the county Emergency Planning Agency is going to be involved.

~~~

Weather warmed a bit.  The high temperature yesterday was in the mid-fifties.  No snow left at this altitude. That is not good for snowpack depths, but no one is complaining … yet.

~~~

At the moment I am up to my ears  in things which need to be done, so to close, I’ll share a morning reminder …

I’ve seen a better day, but I’ve also seen worse. I don’t have everything that I want, but I do have all I need. I woke up with some aches and pains, but I woke up.

‘til next week …

Well … the week started off with a visit to my primary medical care giver who diagnosed my hand as “Herpes Whitlow”.¹

Followed by lunch with the organizer of one of the radio club commitments for the coming summer.²

Followed by the bi-monthly meeting of the Watermaster District Board.³

¹ I am convinced the hand diagnosis is incorrect since Whitlow symptoms include fluid-filled blisters (there are none), spreading from a foci (these pop up randomly and always near a joint), and extreme pain (no pain except if hit directly). I filled the script given me for an anti-viral and that evening I began to have the signs of a facial virus attack.  I have had those in the past, but it has been years. I wonder what set this one into action and how the anomaly with my right hand is connected.  I have a follow-up appointment the 12th and will ask those questions.

² The route of the trail run next September has been changed which means changes in staffing times and possibly in the frequency used by radio communicators.  I have to wait for weather so we have access to the new aid station sites and so have plenty of time to do anything more about this. 

³ The Watermaster Board meeting was … for lack of a better word … interesting.  

I made a presentation, during the public time, about my concerns focusing on the lack of oversight of employee actions starting with an attempt, possibly on work time, to influence an election to the Board.  Conflict of interest? Illegal on company time? The Deputy Watermaster slammed to her feet near the end of the meeting, glaring at me, and shouted that I attend the meeting just to harass her and that I stand there every meeting telling lies.  I almost laughed. It was such a clear demonstration of her behavior.  

But it raised another concern.  One of the Board members said to me that he had to take-the-side-of and/or depend-on-the-Deputy Watermaster’s- word in order to make his decisions/opinions.  So who is in charge?  

When I spoke with my County Supervisor about the interaction, he said something to the same effect … who reports to whom? … who is in charge?  And it would appear our situation with this “lady” is not unique within the county.

At the moment, I am the focus of the Deputy Watermaster’s rage, but that’s good.  We also serve who only stand and take abuse.

~~~

Weather is still doing its what-comes-next thing.  Saturday night there was a skiff of corn snow, then sunday morning it began to snow as the family left for church, gave us a bit over two inches, and was done by noon.  But it stayed cold so there is still snow on the ground this morning. It was below freezing most of yesterday. It is 37degrees this morning.

~~~

This is a stay-at-home week for me and that’s a good thing.  Paul has been running a low fever since sunday and me being at home means the others don’t have to take time off from whatever.  Flu season dictates being extra careful since four of the five residents of this household have weekly/daily contact with the public.  Not like when George and I could avoid most illnesses since we could stay home.

~~~

We had an interesting whatever last week.  Friday evening I didn’t close in the chickens in the evening, Kamille did the duty and counted just nineteen hens (there were supposed to be twenty).  The next night I was surprised to count only nineteen since I hadn’t heard the count for the previous evening. We were sort of resigned to having nineteen since a white occasionally flies over the six foot fence and gets taken out by some animal … but my count was short a brown.

Then sunday when I closed them in there were twenty!  

Had I been the only one to count just nineteen, I’d cop to miscounting.  But two of us counted only nineteen. Anyhow, now she (whatever colour) is back with no explanation.

~~~

My next to last opera for this season was “Porgy and Bess” last saturday.  I’ve known most of the music for years (that comes from being a profound Gershwinite) and have seen portions of the opera, but never seen the entire thing start to finish.  Of course I wallowed in the music in spite of the noir aspect of the storyline. Those of you who have seen it know the spoken parts are mainly the white police. And the arias (songs) we know so well are integrated into the total so easily that you find yourself into them without a clear border. 

I hadn’t realized “A Woman Is a Sometime Thing” is actually a lullaby. And I hadn’t heard Selena’s elegy since I’ve been a widow. It nearly did me in.  

“Porgy”, sung by a bass baritone, sang with a cold.  Wonderous! There are a lot of solos from “chorus” members … maybe only one or two lines each, but it was Catfish Row.  And Sportin’ Life was real slime.

Next up will be “Der Fliegende Hollandёr” with Bryn Tercel for Mark’s birthday.

~~~

I’ve been reading a Dan Brown … “Origin”… and it was really thought provoking.  But then, what else could you expect from Brown? The tale is based around two questions …

Where did we come from?  

Where are we going?

As with so much of what I’m reading lately, I can enjoy the tale and at the same time find myself googling something, someone, someplace, and learning learning, learning.  My teacher (Mr. Edgar of whom I speak often) must be smiling and shaking his head.

This book had a bit of all of those learning mind-ticklers.

Something … a Palmarian Pope?

Someone, but also something … a poem by William Blake dealing with a god named Urizen who, in one Blake drawing, is depicted measuring the world.

Someplace … Barcelona and its architecture by Gaudi … La Sagrada Familia, Casa Mila, and a lot of others.

Someplace else … Bilbao and its art museum.

In spite of all the googling, it’s a good read … if you like adventures that make you think.

Next up … “Heart Berries” by a Native American author recommended by Sherman Alexie.

~~~

And here’s a thought to remind me that I don’t have to do/know everything immediately.  

It’s wise to be a little cautious and wary of things you don’t understand. Take your time.

So … ‘til next week …