1 May …
Weather has turned warm. Not hot like summer yet. Just warm. Warm enough for things to bloom all over the place.
The plum tree in the courtyard is full of blossoms. Dogwoods (both the bright white ones and the smaller, yellow Pacific ones) are bursting. The birch trees are leafing out. And this morning I can see blossoms on the cherry tree out by the chicken coop.
And speaking of chickens, the preteeners have been introduced into the laying flock. They have been in the chicken house for nearly a week, but separated from the adults by fencing … by way of getting used to each other. Now they are all together while still being separate. As yet there is no intermingling. The grown-ups go outdoors. The preteens stay in the house.
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Remember some time ago when I told you about the chiming clock George inherited from his maternal Grandmother which had taken a place of honor in my room?
Weeeeeeeellllllllllllllllll …
Also some time ago, she fell!
I don’t think I told you about that, but if I did please forgive the repeat. There is a happy, happy ending to the story.
It had been a cataclysmic disaster for me.
The case was in teeny pieces. John said the case sacrificed itself to protect the works.
I despaired of her ever running again.
But Kaloo Kalay (reference Alice) … SHE IS REPAIRED !!! 
Looking more beautiful than ever. Running better than in a long time. Now she will last longer than I will. All thanks to older son John. What a gift !!!
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I am currently up to my hips in a controversy with the County Watermaster District over the use of the water in the reservoir and its downstream diversions. It is a bit complicated if you don’t know the area, but has to do with the use of state owned waters for the maintenance of local dirt roads in order to insure fire protection.
So far, I have been in contact with the local Deputy Watermaster (a real get), the Executive Director of the Scott Valley and Shasta Valley Watermaster District (who runs her a close second), and my local County Supervisor (who is a real gentleman and helpful). I have been working on this for several days … reading and annotating pertinent documents and writing (and then rewriting) letters.
Wish me luck …
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I am totally in the dark as to why a female Stellar Jay chose to build a nest right next to the front door … but she did. Now she and a male spend their time flying between the nest, the lilac, a nearby fir, and the catalpa.
I am not really fond of jays, but somehow I can’t bring myself to chase her off.
I haven’t seen into the nest yet, but I am listening.
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I finished reading “Slaughterhouse-Five”. Have you read it?
It is not an easy read … partly due to the subject and partly due to a nervous tic of the author’s. It is worth the time however.
Try it. You might not like it, but you may gain some insight into thoughts such as why do we memorialize (celebrate?) Nagasaki and Hiroshima and ignore Dresden?
Followed that read with a novel fictionalizing a collection of true stories about women spies during the World Wars titled “The Alice Network” by Kate Quinn. Exciting. Informative. Upsetting.
Just remember the two rules of war (stolen from Hawkeye) …
#1. People die.
#2. You can’t change #1.
Now on to something lighter.
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Taiko lessons for this spring are over. The recital was at school last Friday. Kamille took a video and it is posted here … (Paul is to the far right)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRu2gJHbyBA&feature=youtu.be&ab_channel=dslittlejib
We are having a fun “lesson” (with pizza) this afternoon. Lessons will resume in the fall.
On tap for summer … swim team and library fridays.
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There is a site handled by a Rebbe which I read every week. He offers wise words and historical insights.
Having just read about the women spies/resistors in WW II and their “sabotage” efforts, I found the following interesting …
Elmer Bendiner was a navigator in a B-17 during WW II. In his book, The Fall of Fortresses, he tells this story of a World War II bombing run over Kassel, Germany.
“Our B-17, the Tondelayo, was barraged by flak from Nazi anti-aircraft guns. That wasn’t unusual, but on this particular occasion our gas tanks were hit. Later, as I reflected on the miracle of a 20 millimeter shell piercing the fuel tank without touching off an explosion, our pilot, Bohn Fawkes, told me it was not quite that simple.
“On the morning following the raid, Bohn had gone down to ask our crew chief for that shell as a souvenir of unbelievable luck. The crew chief told Bohn that not just one shell but 11 had been found in the gas tanks. 11 unexploded shells where only one was sufficient to blast us out of the sky. It was as if the sea had been parted for us. A near-miracle, I thought.
“Even after 35 years, so awesome an event leaves me shaken, especially after I heard the rest of the story from Bohn. He was told that the shells had been sent to the armorers to be defused. The armorers told him that Intelligence had picked them up. They could not say why at the time, but Bohn eventually sought out the answer. Apparently when the armorers opened each of those shells, they found no explosive charge. They were as clean as a whistle and just as harmless. Empty? Not all of them! One contained a carefully rolled piece of paper. On it was a scrawled message in Czech.
“The Intelligence people scoured our base for a man who could read Czech. Eventually they found one to decipher the note. It set us marveling. Translated, the note read: ‘This is all we can do for you now.’ ”
At the end of the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC there is a little amphitheater playing short clips. In one, a man relates that while in a death camp he saw his friend praying at a time that was too late for the morning service and too early for the afternoon service. He asks his friend what he is praying. The friend responds, “I am thanking God.” “For what?” enquires the man, “Look around you! What do you have to be thankful for?” His friend replied, “I am thanking God that I am one of us and not one of them.”
So … ‘til next week …