More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …
This morning there was an interesting non-surprise …
Tyler’s car (an open-air jeep) had been visited in the past by a bear who had been inside, sampling a sip of lemonade left in a cup. It was a small bear, identified by a paw print left in the dust on the back seat (I told you it was an open-air jeep and we live on dirt roads).
A week or so ago a neighbor had a small to medium print in their driveway.
This morning, as he was coming up to the house from his apartment in the old barn, Tyler’s dogs froze and one sort of snorted. Tyler looked to the left and there was a small (for bears) brown bear just a few yards away. The bear looked at the dogs, shook its head, and took off headed west toward me at the chicken house. I guess I was in the hen house, watering the chickens and filling their pellet dispenser, because I didn’t see any of that.
Seeing a bear was a non-surprise because we live in a WUI area (Wildland Urban Interface) where we cohabit with the indigeneous animals. The only surprise element was because I had left a sled with a bag of chicken pellets sitting out in the path to the chicken house. I had been too pooped to haul it the rest of the way last evening and was surprised this morning the bear hadn’t found it.
The encounter would indicate the bear’s regular path is from the east open meadow, across our living area, to the Durney Creek area and the houses on Elderberry.
That reminded me of the morning I stepped out the back door to meet a bear coming out of the woodshed, the door to which had come open with wind (since there were no claw marks to indicate the bear had opened it nor anything in there to attract a bear). We were both a bit surprised at such a close encounter (about a yard) so I stood still and the bear, after glancing at me, walked rapidly away through the backyard.
As long as the local wildlife leaves the chickens alone, we have no problem.
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Last friday my primary care provider held drive-thru COVID testing. The whole family went through. Have you done it yet? What an experience. I think that swab reached all the way, past the sinus, into my left frontal lobe. And to think that, as long as I’m working with food sharing, I should do this every fourteen days to make sure I’m not infecting others …
Oh well …
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Only five more weeks of packing lunches. As I have said before, the older I get the faster the days go by. Now it has been less than a month since the equinox and the morning sun is already far enough south to be rising over the Mountain.
It seems it was only a day or so ago that I was watching the sun move slowly north (and yes, I know that isn’t the scientific explanation, but it is my perception) and shining in my window earlier and earlier each morning. It was nearly 0620 before that happened this morning.
Thinking of packing lunches … we still have no idea what the coming school year will be like. Some Oregon schools are offering the choice to attend in-person or attend on-line. The problem in making the choice for Paul would be more social than academic. There is little or no problem with teaching him at home. Learning to play well with others is a bit of trouble when access to “others” is severely limited. If you live rural, the neighbor kids can be more than walking distance away.
And Kamille works (worked?) for the school district, so this situation is impacting the family that way.
I predict 2020 will be seen as a fulcrum. What and how widespread the changes in everyday life will be is anybody’s guess. And when I add my age to that equation …
But enough gloom and doom …
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Paul’s swimming is in full swing. He did well enough last summer as a 7-year-old that this year he is a member of the beginners’ swim team and no longer just a wannabe. In spite of general lockdown, they meet two days a week in small groups to practice with each swimmer being carefully restricted to their own lane.
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The issue with the reservoir is still simmering. I know it isn’t good to wish harm or bad luck onto others, but I can’t help hoping karma is in operation. The land developers who subdivided this area sure left a big mess for those of us who bought here. They made promises with fingers crossed, failed to provide for an owners’ association with power to oversee, left road access questions unresolved, hedged on the requirement to prove adequate sanitation and well sites, and that’s just the foam on the top. Those of us who bought early had little or no problem with the uncontrolled aspect of the area. We bought with the idea of self-sufficiency and cooperation. It worked for a lot of years. Then folks who were used to city amenities and had a sense of privilege began arriving and …
But hind sight etc. and here we are. I had trusted George’s and my little haven would last and both of us would die here, leaving a good place for the family.
Bobbie Burns was right about the best laid plans …
Oh well …
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My current “TV” viewing is a series out of New Zealand. The scenery is interesting as are the culture references. The main character is aged about 50 and he keeps surprising his younger cohorts with words like “collywobbles” and “canoodling”.
Fun …
An aside is the length of each episode … between 90 and 100 minutes each. Seems strange to remember that when I was young, the running time of movies was a mere 60 to 70 minutes and saturday at the movies meant two full length features.
Speaking of movies …
Have you learned yet that my mind runs wild with off-the-wall connections which lead me on convoluted paths off through the back 40? So …
Speaking of movies, I was recently involved in a challenge to cite a single line of dialogue which was a giveaway to the movie such as “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” or “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” or “Round up the usual suspects.” or “Come on, babe, why don’t we paint the town?” or “Are you crazy? The fall will probably kill us.”
But somehow no one thought to add “Badges? We don’ need no stinkin’ badges.”
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Finally, for this week …
I find I am grateful for each morning …
Regardless …
“Each soul must meet the morning sun, the sweet earth, and the great silence alone.”
–Charles Alexander Eastman, OHIYESA SANTEE SIOUX
So … ‘til next week …