More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …
This will be the last post with the COVID heading. Masks are an option now and the death rate has slowed. Everyone I know and with whom I interact has been vaccinated and it is on my calendar to renew in a year.
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Woke up last thursday to snow on the ground and near freezing temperatures. Also has rather severe wind, but snow was only above about 3,500’ and was light and gone by 1000.
Friday was overcast with less wind and only snow skiffs before noon.
Saturday morning rain and chilly.
Sunday, monday, tuesday … more of the same in differing amounts.
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The wild-ranging Scotch broom is in full bloom (much to the dismay of some since it is becoming invasive). For botanists … broom is native to central and western Europe and probably got to England during the English/French alliances and wars and from there to the North American continent with the early immigrants. For history buffs (and maybe genealogy folks) … the name Plantagenet traditionally means “sprig of broom” dating back to 1605 when Geoffrey Plante Genest wore a sprig of broom (the planta genista) in his bonnet and included both Lancasters and Yorks (the Battle of the Roses) and through them Tudors. Interesting English history.
The wisteria is displaying.
The lilac is nearly done.
The locust trees all over the south country are in full bloom. I learned a bit ago that son Mark never knew why the police social and bargaining group in Rochester NY was called the “Locust Club”. Then we learned together that nightsticks were traditionally made out of locust wood. Another tidbit for your next trivia challenge.
It seems that, in spite of the late frosts, there may be a good apple crop this year.
In addition, the catalpa has decided it is time to leaf out.
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Spent some time last week reading the next Dorothy Sayers mystery. I remember seeing a tv series some time ago (must have been a Brit production) and enjoying her effete Brit Lord with his monocle.
Sherlock, Poirot, Wimsey … each so different and each good reads.
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I’m going through everything for the third time and still weeding out. Trading space for memories.
In conversations with relatives and others, the consensus seems to be that there comes a time when Depression kids have to let go of the but-there-might-come-a-time-when-I’ll-need-that mind frame and just let it go.
Latest decision is to take only genealogy stuff, spinning stuff, and a minimum of kitchen stuff with me. The stack of books that must go has been whittled down to a very short stack. I will soon have access to the Los Angeles Public Library which has the largest population of any publicly funded library system in the United States so the available book list should be enormous.
I’ve passed along most of the unspun fiber in my stash so I’ll still be part of the spinning group for a time as others use it.
I will be offering the herbal books and prep tools to the new lady of this land as well as all the canning stuff.
Also found my“old” Shirley Temple doll (circa “Stand Up and Cheer” 1934) … (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFJWmqMzvJU&ab_channel=ShirleyTemple)
My granddaughter isn’t into dolls and so some doll collector is going to be over the top.
So far I haven’t found my Sonja Henie doll.
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Several years ago, a Brit friend introduced me to brown sugar cubes. They are not simply pressed brown sugar but have a subtle taste and contain minerals white sugar doesn’t have. I use La Perruche cubes. I like them in hot cereal along with milk, butter, and raisins.
I introduced them to Paul and he became a convert. Guess it’s time to send off another order since there are only five left in the jar.
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Sunday, before the dog was let outdoors, there were three mule deer grazing near the front door … two very gravid does and a yearling. They were moving east to west. Another yearling went across the section of the meadow I can see from my south window. I did see a forked horn a few days ago, but haven’t seen him since. And saw a larger buck as well, still in the velvet.
Watching them graze made me think of folks who have begun keeping a goat as a lawnmower. I wonder what cities would think if more folks tried that. There would be someone who would object by saying all goats smell rank. But that’s not true. Nannies aren’t smelly. Only the randy bucks.
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I’ve been reading books in a series by Laurie King (who says she lives in NORTHERN California, but seems to actually be in the Santa Cruz area which to us Northerners is part of the middle of the state). They are fun books, and in the current read there was an idea, a great idea, for a costume when you can’t avoid going to a dress-up party … muss up your hair and go in your pajamas and slippers (ladies – no makeup). When you’re asked who you are, just look grumpy and tell them you are the “The neighbor from downstairs/upstairs/next door! and can you please tone it down?”
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The recent short, but oh so deadly, war between Israel and Gaza (talk about David and Goliath) left me weeping. I have Jewish friends and Muslim friends. Why must friends of my friends try to kill each other? As my Another Mother For Peace medallion says … “War is not healthy for children and other living things.”
Why is it so hard to remember that basically we are all the same …
Every infant is born in the natural state. It is the parents who make him into a Jew or a Christian or a Muslin or a Hindu or a Pagan or a …
The Muqaddimah of Ibn Khaldun
So ‘til next week …