Author: Wilma

Wednesdays are my days in town.

Last week I had left for my rounds after last week’s blog had been posted a bit before 1000PST.  I stopped by the bank, collected fresh produce to replenish the pantry, picked up a senior lunch in Mt Shasta, gathered Paul from the church where his father was doing some Deacon work, did some shopping (Ray’s), picked up some chicken feed, did some more shopping (Grocery Outlet), went by the library drive thru to get the books being held for me, and got home around 1700.  Mark was busy fixing dinner and had his phone radio (?) on as he does when he is cooking … but he wasn’t listening to (watching?) one of the shows he usually has on.  I wondered at that, but didn’t ask. 

Then live reporting about the ratification process of the electoral votes caught my ear and I turned to him, probably with a quizzical look on my face.  It was after 1700 PST which would be 2000 EST which seemed a bit late for Congress to still be dealing with that duty.  I must have said something like “Are they still at it?” because he said “Haven’t you heard?”

He then brought me up to time on the rioting invasion of the Capitol building.

Flabbergasted doesn’t begin to describe my reaction.  I am still trying to sort out all I heard and am still hearing.

I remember seeing my Daddy cry while listening to the reports from Pearl Harbor … an attack by a foreign power.  This was an attack by Americans … by some professing to be doing G-d’s work …  by armed combatants prepared to take prisoners.  

I still have no words to describe how I felt and to a certain extent still feel.

The pictures were horrifying.  I couldn’t imagine it was true.  

I continue to be horrified by the fact that so many Americans support the attack, feel those desecrators were justified, are using weird statements of support for the lies told in the past (like a statement from some small place in Italy that they have proof the election was fraudulent), and are continuing to accept lies told by the President.  Some of those Americans are people I know and knew them to be good, honest, moral people … at least in my interactions with them … but who continue supporting a President inciting sedition and terrorism and those acting on the President’s instructions.  I thought I knew the people I know would never approve of amoral, corrupt, traitorous behavior. 

At least I thought I knew …

I can’t grasp the idea that someone I thought I knew is not only not one of the silent Germans (to use an all too obvious analogy) who stood by watching while doing nothing but is actually, however obliquely, declaring themselves to be a supporter of sedition.  As Arnold Swartzneger, who experienced the fallout from the original night of infamy, has said …

“6 January was our kristallnacht”. 

I have now been alive through two blatant, destructive attacks on our democratic Republic … one foreign and one domestic.

I am angry … I am disappointed … I am amazed …  I am confused … I am frightened … I am hopeful … I am disillusioned …  I am sad … 

~~~

Even the weather has been sad.  It rained , hard, all day yesterday and it has been windy and rainy already this morning.  The Eddys to our south are in clouds.

~~~

 There are those who are up-in-arms at the “censorship” of the President and his followers.  They cite the “Freedom of speech” amendment.  It is my understanding that treason and incitement to riot are exempted from that “Freedom”.  

I think the following statement is appropo in reference to the “censorship” being decried.  I weep for the souls of those being denied a platform. As is said …

Writing is the shaping of letters to represent spoken words which, in turn, represent what is in the soul.     The Muqaddimah of Ibn Khaldun

As I write this, the US House of Representatives is acting on a bill to impeach based in part on the President’s words, both written and spoken.

So … ‘til next week … 

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … 357k US dead as of yesterday.

According to Newsweek, “the best thing about 2021 will simply be that it isn’t 2020”. 

~~~

The wheel of the year has begun it’s rotation.  Today is Epiphany, Wise Men’s Day.  That brings back some memories.

When we had small children in the house, George and I would set up a creche before Christmas, usually when the Christmas tree went up, but without the Baby.  Then on Christmas morning, one of us would make sure the Baby was in the manger by the time the boys came down for opening gifts, but no Wise Men anywhere.  During the day, the Wise Men would be set up someplace in the house (the boys would help select the starting place) and each day until Epiphany they would be moved closer to the creche until, on the morning of the Twelfth Day of Christmas, they would arrive at the manger.  Each day would provide a chance to retell part of the Christmas story.

I had memorized the Luke version when I was attending church with my Nana, and I can still recite it along with any reading.

Later, when we were living in Northridge, Christmas with family/families became complicated.  When did we go to Grandpa and Grandma Tyler’s?  When to Grandmother and Pop Dibelka’s?  When did they come to us?  When did we open gifts … Santa’s on Christmas morning and the grandparents’ when we were with them? 

So we decided to try establishing a new tradition.  Gifts from family, other than our immediate family, would be opened when we were with those from whom we received the gifts.  Gifts from Santa would be opened Christmas morning, before breakfast and leaving for the grandparent house for which we were headed (or when they arrived at our house).  But gifts within the family (George, the boys, and me) would not be brought out of hiding until the Wise Men and their gifts arrived at the manger.

It was a good idea, but we started too late.  It was not a success and lasted very few years (three or four as I recall).  By the time we started, the long-practiced traditions were already too strongly entrenched to be changed.

Oh well …

So now we are in Epiphanytide which will last until 2 February (Candlemas/Imbolc) when Lent starts.  Then it will be time for everything purple, green, and gold.

~~~

Weather has been a real mix … rain, wind, snow, ice … name it, we had it.  All the colour, with the exception of the brown pine needles and the year’round evergreen, is gone from the land.  It is a quiet time.

The latest snow is nearly gone but there is ice under the patches which are still on the ground.  As a consequence, I use an old ski pole when going to and from the chicken house.  

At 90+ it is unwise to risk a fall.

~~~

Am playing tag-your-turn with one of the County librarians.  We are currently reading a couple of series (one mystery and one fantasy).  I’m a book ahead of her so I let her know when I’ve finished and am returning the book so she can have her turn.  

Rather a strange set-up, but it seems to be working.

And I just ran across a new series about England in the time of the Tudors.  First book about Catherine Howard.  Second based around Elizabeth I.  Historical fiction.

My problem is … do I binge on them all in a row, or do I space the enjoyment out so the series lasts longer?

~~~

Last week I mentioned the electronic drum set Paul received.  It triggered memories for two readers.  One whose father got so tired of the noise he slashed the drum head “to let out the demon or whatever which was making all the racket”.  The other who played in a group during his younger days and is now thinking of finding a way to get back to playing drums.

Drummers and bassmen … gaga time for me.

~~~

I recently had an interesting head-on with hypocrisy.

In November she labeled me “toxic” and “destructive” in my role with a group to which we both belonged, so I eventually decided to withdraw rather than risk constant confrontations. Yesterday I received a letter signed by the same woman (who has replaced me in my role with the group) which states “Due to your many years of participation in and your extensive knowledge of the organization, … you have been a true asset and are greatly valued and appreciated. (We) will always be indebted to you for your service and your countless contributions over decades.” 

I have not made the November labeling common knowledge (nor my attempts at apology in order to smooth the situation, all of which were rejected). I gave a vague reason when I resigned, having decided it might truly be destructive and no longer worth my time to continue, so she and I are the only ones who know the comparison.  

As I have said before … I have little trouble forgiving.  My problem comes with forgetting.

Oh well …

~~~

Found this on the blog of an author I follow.  Not a quote of hers, but from her own reading.  Thought  it was worth repeating.

” Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break, and all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So … Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.”      – L.R. Knost

So … ‘til next week … 

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … 

Well, it was a white Christmas … between 2” and 3” with fierce winds from all directions.  There was snow on every window … all four sides of the house.

Saturday we were still getting snow, but no wind and light fall.  Total at sundown about 3” after a bit of settling.

Sunday cold and overcast.  No new snow.

Monday and tuesday cold and clear.  No new snow.

Today is cold with the expectation of rain.  We are also having wind but it is capricious.  George built this house so secure that wind has to be nearly hurricane force before we hear it indoors.  As a result, we mostly see rather than hear wind.  And seeing it is interesting.  Often the wind is specific to a certain level … i.e. treetops may be whipping around but at ground level all is calm.  This morning it was the other way around… limbs at ground level were dancing and the treetops were watching.

~~~

 Paul got a drum set among his Christmas gifts.  Fortunately it is not acoustic and came with earphones so no one else is aware of the “practice” time.

You, who have been with me for any amount of time, know I have always had a thing for drummers.  The difference between that situation and this is the practice time was all before I met those others or heard them.

I still have sets of drumsticks which were George’s.  Were he still here, Paul would be learning street beats as well as club trio rhythms.  I wonder if he will ever approach the “Wipeout” level.  Probably not since his attention span for any project is truncated by the many options available.

Oh well …

~~~

I have finished reading the final book in the Gateway Trilogy.  I looked at the due date last night and was interested (there’s that word again) to see the due date is 6 January 2020.   Boy, when I have a book overdue I do it up royally.

These three books are followed by another series in the same settings.  I think I’ll wait a bit before I start those.

In the meantime, I plan to spend time in Venice, California in 1949, in turn of the 20th century San Francisco, on a res with a Crow Keeper, learning magick with Alice Hoffman, and ???

How about you?

~~~

Learned a new gift guide this holiday.  Give gifts in batches of four… one that they want, one that they need, one they can wear, and one they can read. 

Sounds overwhelming, but you can adjust to fit your budget … They want a pet = a stuffed animal; need food = crackers and cheese; to wear = socks; to read = a paperback.  Shouldn’t be too costly.  Upscale from there.

~~~

Tyler will be moving into his new digs over the next few days.  He found a place in town with his own bathroom and room for his animals.  

In the past, when the family lived down in the barn, there were four of us and a cow to help moderate the temperatures.  We talked about securing that area as a guest apartment, but never got around to the work involved.  And the distance over dirt roads makes it hard for full time workers.  So this move will be a good one for Tyler.  

I will miss seeing him but this will be great for him.

~~~

My trip to 1949 Venice, California has begun as of last monday evening.  I have no idea why I recently put Ray Bradbury’s “Death is a Lonely Business” on my reading list.  I thought I’d read all of Bradbury.  Wrong.

And this has been a strange meeting.  I feel so in-tune.  Bradbury writes about the beach area in southern California between Redondo Beach and Santa Monica the way I remember it …

No LAX but a small air field called Mines Field surrounded by hog farms and bean fields.  A small seaside village built to imitate the canals in Italy’s Venice, in 1949 slipping from Hollywood chic to trashy despair but before being refound by the hippies.   A beloved wooden thriller ride being torn down.  A mud slough where my Daddy took me with him to fish for bottom feeders like catfish.  Red cars running north and south along the beach and east into downtown LA through Culver City.  Oil wells in El Segundo backyards and parks.  A drug store (Converse’s) on the corner where they served egg salad sandwiches with lattice potato chips and lime phosphates at the ice cream counter and where there were pulp magazines with wonderful stories like “The Moon Pool” and stuff about outer space and fantasy worlds which left me breathless.  Cousins up a block and three houses north and others west of the high school and only three blocks from the beach dunes.  An empty lot across from Nana’s house on Concord Street where there had been barrage balloons and exciting boy-men stationed during the war.  A beach just over the sand dunes but without a sewage plant.  A telephone exchange (where my mother’s aunt worked) down the block from the City Hall (where my Nana worked) where live women answered saying “Number Please” when you lifted the receiver.  A natatorium to the south with multiple pools of all temperatures, depths, and sizes, and with both clear and salt water.  An oil refinery immediately adjacent to the south with a recognizable odor when the wind was incoming from the southwest.

And so much more …

After eighty years I can still hear, see, and smell it.

I wonder what kept me from reading this book a long time ago.

~~~

COVID deaths in California are up … we have had nine so far in Siskiyou County.  We are a small county so nine is a lot.

Following his two weeks of intense “work” (six to twelve hours at a stretch) to produce the Christmas Eve video for his church, and the necessary filming of musicians with whom he is not usually in contact, Mark began feeling ill.  He and Kamille were tested last sunday and we will get the results in a day or so.  In the meantime, we are all staying out of circulation.   

So far, no one else feels ill.

~~~

Ever since Yule and Christmas, evenings and mornings out my window have been loverly with the waxing Moon on the crest of the new fallen snow …

Dan Rather said it well …

I hope. I mourn. I pray. I love. I listen. I share. I resolve. I waver. 

Life is complicated. 

So … ‘til next week …  

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … 

There is snow on the ground … but not a lot.

This morning’s low was the coldest yet … 19०.

Morning Sunrise today on the lower Eddys – 0755.

Morning Sunrise in the window – 0819.

Two days into winter … 88 to go.

Wood shed and pantry are full.

~~~

The Holidays began last friday with the online Trans-Siberian Orchestra Christmas show.

I had never known about the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.  Guess it is time for me to take a step forward.  They are a rock band plus, but I guess a lot of you already know that. Oh well …

I was pleasantly surprised at hearing classic carols given the rock treatment.   And the holiday story, although timeworn, was nice.  It’s good to be reminded.  

And a holiday-tradition-in-the-making was hearing Paul begin with Jingle Bells on the keyboard.  He will begin piano lessons once COVID allows.

~~~

One downer in the season was the announcement that Mark Shields is retiring from PBSNews.  George and I had come to look forward to his insight on the week’s federal politics each friday.  His partnership with David Brooks was always civil and instructive.   It provided good instruction in the art of agreeing to disagree with the added possibility of learning and possibly changing opinions.  I hope the new partner chosen for Brooks will be as good a match.  

I will miss Mr. Shields.

First Gwen Ifill and now Mark Shields … profound losses.

~~~

I spent last monday afternoon renovating the chicken house.  I cleared a spot on the floor where I can scatter scratch (evening chicken candy) for the cold months.  And rearranged the floor space so the feedcans are more accessible.  Also replaced the straw in the egg nests.  

I felt quite good having accomplished all that.  Now the hens need to show appreciation by laying … laying … laying.

~~~

Because of an incident in a group to which I belonged, I began thinking about the difference between reasons and excuses.  I’ve thought about this before and felt I understood the difference.  But the incident reminded me that others don’t seem to differentiate.

To me, it seems simple.  

The reason you do something  is the why and every action has a reason. 

But an excuse is when something  you’ve done didn’t go well and you feel the need to escape responsibility.

Reasons can indicate regret and possibly trigger apologies.  Excuses are saying “It wasn’t my fault” and laying blame off somewhere else.  

I will continue to act with this difference in mind.  How someone else reacts is not within my control.

~~~

Current reading is the prequel to Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth set at the turn of the century from the 900s to the 11th century … the end of the Dark Ages.  The site is the English Channel countries, specifically the Dorset, Somerset, Wiltshire area in England and Normandy on the continent.  It is a heavy read (over 900 pages as well as a lot of history and atmosphere).  I am enjoying it.  It brings to life a scary, depressing, hopeful time … much like today.

Next up on the reading pile … escapist fantasy fiction.

~~~

Over the years, one facet of holiday tradition was unchanged … until three years ago.   For over sixty years I baked the Shaffer recipe for Sand Tarts shared with me by my older sister-in-law Sally.  George once said “How can it be Christmas without sand tarts?”

Sand tarts are a very (!) thin sugar cookie.  Instructions are to roll them so thin you can read the newspaper through them.  And they are always cut with handmade cutters dating to the mid-1800s (at least then, but I think they are older than that), topped with a fingertip dab of milk, a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar, and an almond half (when almond halves weren’t available, and I didn’t have time to split whole almonds, we used almond pieces).  

Everyone had their favorite cutter.

The family make-up changed after George’s death and I hadn’t pushed to continue the tradition.  I missed them, but …

Then yesterday, Kamille brought them into a conversation.  It was a gift.  She may not recognize it as such, but I did.  

The cookie cutters were found and set out.  Mark reminisced about holidays past and pointed out his favorite cutter.  This morning it was agreed that after packages on Christmas Day the kitchen area would be cleared and we would bake sand tarts. 

When there were children at home, I mixed and rolled and the cutting, dabbing milk, sprinkling sugar, and punching on the almonds was left to George and the boys.  For the last twenty years it was just George and me so the mixing, rolling, and cutting was up to me while he did the milk, sugar, and almonds.  This year we have enough folks to set up a production line again.

I am indeed blessed.

~~~

Sunrise on Yule (Winter Solstice) came through my window at 0817.  Tuesday it seemed to be the same.  Guess I’m just too impatient for the days to show their lengthening.  By Candlemas (2 February … mid-winter) mornings should be brighter.

And again I am reminded of the R.L.Stevenson poem about mornings.  There is a pronounced difference in mornings between where I grew up (southern California – little seasonal difference) and where I have lived for the last 40+ years (far northern California – very different sunrise position and day length as seasons change).

~~~

Last monday I received two gifts … phone contacts from friends with whom I had not spoken in too long.  

I will make myself a calendar note to try to remember to make an unscheduled, possibly unexpected, call at least once a month.

Pay it forward …

~~~

Mark has been working on producing a Christmas Eve video for his church as a replacement for the COVID banned in-church service.  He has been working on it for over a week.  We, as a family, had gotten into the tradition of attending Christmas Eve service (there is a kneeler off to the side of the altar area dedicated to the Blessed Mother where I would stop after the service).  I hold on to the memory of standing next to Mark listening to him sing.  Now I am looking forward to tomorrow at 1900 PST when the video will show on YouTube (link at SBECMS.org).

~~~

I am always gratified when someone says what I wish I had said and says it well …

Robin Wall Kimmerer:  “I cherish the notion that the holiday ‘gift’ economy might back away from the grinding market economy that reduces everything to a commodity and leaves most of us bereft of what we really want … relationship and purpose and beauty and meaning, which can never be commoditized. I want to be part of a system in which wealth means having enough to share, and where the gratification of meeting your family needs is not poisoned by destroying that possibility for someone else. I want to live in a society where the currency of exchange is gratitude and the infinitely renewable resource of kindness, which multiplies every time it is shared rather than depreciating with use.”

So ‘til next week … Blessings and Happy Holidays all…

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … 

Semi-winter is here.  Cold but not much snow.  That’s probably due to the drought condition of most of California.  No precipitation, at least not enough to do much good.  There has been some snow on the Mountain, but I remember years when She was completely white by the first week in November.  Here it is only days from Winter Solstice and there is bare earth here as well as on the Mountain.  What that means for next year’s fire season is anybody’s guess.

People are beginning to understand and doing a lot of clearing preparation.  Mark has been busy here, and a trip into town shows me a big change in the looks of the forest.  Trees have been thinned and trimmed up to six or seven feet from the ground.  There are slash piles everywhere waiting for burn weather and/or chipping. 

It looks weird to see areas where at one time being able to see more than a few feet into the trees was unusual. Not any more.

When we do get a bit of snow, everyone rejoices.

~~~

Tyler’s wish to again be his own man will be realized by the first of the year.   He will be moving into a place of his own without the feeling of his father and grandmother always aware.  Through a friend at the Humane Society where he works, he found a lady who needs someone in the apartment attached to her house.  Her first requirement was no pets (interesting because of the Humane Society connection), but after meeting Tyler’s furry kids, she changed her mind and will allow part of the yard to be prepared for Gypsy and Rus.  Tyler will be helping with the yard work and minor household repairs as part of the rent.

It would appear to be a good deal for everyone.

~~~

Mark’s family used to do a faux Christmas tree back east.  George and I always cut a tree off the property.  This year, what with fire prevention clearing, there aren’t any proper trees for cutting here.  So they ordered one off the internet before Thanksgiving.  It has yet to arrive. 

A friend of Kamille’s mentioned she had a tree in her yard which had to come out.  We now have a six foot fir in the living room.

The decoration boxes came out last sunday and it was fun watching Paul pick an ornament and tell us what was happening the year it was added to the tree … the angel on top is one I made the year Mark was born, another was the first year here in Mt Shasta, etc.  

Nostalgia reigned.

~~~

Current reading is a book characterized as a cross between Outlander and The Mists of Avalon.  It is titled The Lost Queen and is set in the area just north of Hadrian’s Wall, between Scotland and England, in the 5th century before Arthur the King became legend.

I’ve been a King Arthur fan for a long time (knowing Geoffrey Ashe, the authority on Arthur, probably helped foster that interest).

The book is well written and one of those just-one-more-chapter books.

The next on the reading list is a return to Victorian San Francisco.  The to-watch list is topped by the new Sophia Loren movie, directed by her son, and the new Merle Streep.

~~~

Mark has been busy-busy putting together a film to be shown in place of the COVID-cancelled Christmas Eve service.  He’s been recording vocals and readings by various church members to be shown on the St Barnabas YouTube site on Christmas Eve.

Mark has a lovely tenor voice and we are told he also has perfect pitch.  Back in ‘97, when he was shot in the throat, I remember the fear he would not speak, let alone sing, again.  Now I remember last December sitting beside him in church listening to him Rejoice, Rejoice … Emmanuel will come to ye oh Israel.

~~~
And another big change … I am no longer on the Board of the local landowners’ association.  My choice.  So you won’t be bothered with things pertinent to just this area any longer.  And I won’t be trying to do things to help people who think they deserve being helped without the need to become involved.

Oh well …

There is a final song.  A song of endings. It’s not sad.  It simply is.  It is simply seeing beyond … bidding farewell to the path you have been walking and welcoming the path ahead.

     … paraphrased from “Follow the Crow” by B.B.Griffith

So … ‘til next week … 

 More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … 

I think I owe all of you an apology (seems I’m having to offer apologies a lot lately).

When I’m feeling down, I need to stay away from the computer.  Go hide in a book or at my spinning wheel for a bit of time.

I was down … but I’m better now.

~~~

This morning I am off early to Yreka to call on the County Mapping Technician and the Senior Planner for the County.  Maybe we can finally get the designation of Dale Creek Road (which is a private road running through the western part of Hammond Ranch) changed from a US Forest Service road to a private road.  For some reason this took a lot of phone calls, negative responses from County employees, and explanations of the reason for the change even though we have a letter from the Forest Service saying it isn’t their road and a State Appellate Court decision stating it is a private road.

I’ll report back on whether this time we succeed or what the next hoop is through which we are required to jump.

~~~

The death toll in this county reached 5 last friday … 7 by monday.  That’s a lot for a county as sparsely populated as this one, and they all seem to be here in the south county area.

I am seeing more masks now.  As I was adjusting mine to go into the grocery store last week I saw a man look at me then turn and go back to his car to get his mask.  That counts as a win.

~~~

Still no snow.  However, the view out my window was a good one last saturday.  The sky was overcast and there was wind.  That combination made the colours near the ground muted but clear.  And the wind set the remaining birch leaves to scintillating, even dropping in a style similar to a rather stately pavanne.

The maple and the catalpa are both bare.  The birches soon will be.

Of course the evergreens are ever green but the shades of green are muted and tinged with grey-brown.  All the ground cover is grey-brown as well.  Not colourful enough for autumn and not white enough for winter.  We seem to be suspended between seasons.

Only sixteen days until solstice and the days will begin to lengthen again.  Currently the morning trip out to the chickens is usually around 0800 or a bit later, and the evening lock-in is fifteen or twenty minutes before 1700.

~~~

The threat of fire is nearly non-existent here now.  Things where we are seem to be wet enough to make fire controllable with more rain predicted for the next couple of days.  But there is a dangerous, destructive fire down south tied to Santa Ana winds.  Those winds coming over the Sierra Nevadas are most of the driving force behind the California fires and they never get as far north as we are.

I got a call from a cousin in Florida checking to make sure we are okay and it struck me that folks on the east coast really don’t understand California.  That fire is fifteen or sixteen hours driving time south of us, still in California.  If you were in Rochester, NY on Lake Erie (where my son used to live) the fire would be somewhere in north Georgia, or if you were in central Florida it would be near the North Carolina-Virginia border.  

As a lifelong Californian I gawk at driving twelve hours and going through as many as eight or ten states.

~~~

I’ll take care of the chickens as I go out to the car and leave you with these wise words from a funny man.  They are worth making a part of an every morning routine …

“Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself that I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.”

— Groucho Marx

So, still hoping … ‘til next week … 

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … 

The seasonal time has truly shifted.  Thanksgiving Day (a day during which I was grateful for several things, but not necessarily thankful) ended with a bang … one minutes it was sunny with light hitting the trees out the window, then bang the sun was gone.  It wasn’t dark but everything here was in shadow.

~~~

Last monday was eventful.  I got up early, even for me, to make it around the hill to McCloud to the only dentist in the south county taking new patients, unless you could pay cash or had some expensive insurance, for a first-in-the-morning appointment only to be told they had cancelled last week due to COVID upped restrictions and so they were doing last week’s appointments this week.  Didn’t I get the phone call?  No, I didn’t.  And I was not allowed to even step into the lobby out of the cold.

When I got home, I checked and the only missed call on my phone was a number that reverse number look up said was unlisted.  And there was no message left.  I was assured I would be called within a few days to reschedule.  So far, no call.

~~~

Remember times when you were having a rough go of it and people said something along the lines of “yea … you got it rough, but look at all the others who also have it rough or even rougher.” ???

It was supposed to make you feel better and grateful.

Did it ever?

We ALL are right now quite a distance from Bernsteins’s Candide who lived in the “best of all possible worlds”.  

I don’t need to outline it for you.  Anyone who is neither part of the 1% elite or in complete denial knows what I’m talking about.  And the dental thing wasn’t all. 

Cataloging my cares and concerns might make me feel better but only temporarily, and it wouldn’t do any good for you … so screw it.

But come to think of it … there was one good thing last week … no family or friend deaths.

~~~

Please accept my apologies, but this will be a short blog.

~~~

Because I am down and we all could use a laugh, here’s an Erma Bombeck from years ago …

” Adults can take a simple holiday for Children and screw it up. What began as a presentation of simple gifts to delight and surprise children around the Christmas tree has culminated in a woman unwrapping six shrimp forks from her dog, who drew her name.” 

– Erma Bombeck

So, with hope in my heart … ‘til next week … 

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 … CA lockdown day 249 … over 260K US deaths, 2 of them here in Siskiyou County …

Ground covered in hoarfrost and frost rimmed leaves is the scene every morning now.  Walking to the chicken house is like walking on a layer of snap, crackle, and pop or on corn flakes.  We had a brief snow and the Mountain is beautifully white, but for now it is just cold.

Only a month until Winter Solstice, longer days, and the deep winter months.  Fortunately, the woodshed is full.

~~~

A few days ago I was listening to Sirius’ Symphony Hall and heard both cadence and phrasing in Stravinsky’s “The Soldier’s Tale” which reminded me quite strongly of  Let’s all go barmy.  Let’s join the army from Brecht’s “Three Penny Opera”. That brought to mind the relationships between Bernstein and Gershwin, “Nature Boy” and a Dvorak concerto (in D, I think); Richard Rogers and most anyone, as well as a lot of others.  They all reminded me that as there are said to be only 64 (or some other low number) stories which are rewritten and retold, with variations based on the era and the customs and the intentions of the writers. There are probably a limited number of musical phrases and rhythms which are also varied in combination according to the same rules.  I feel it is a bit sad, but as I enjoy the same stories rewritten, I am learning to enjoy the musical repeats as well.  

I must admit that I am not sure where atonal dysrhythmic “music” fits that thesis however.

~~~

One day last week, on my way into town I saw two forked horn bucks and a four-pointer.  Gave me a heart-stopping moment of pleasure.  We don’t see deer in the yard as much as we used to since the dogs came to live here.  They have yet to accept the local fauna as part of the landscape as Darby did. She barked very seldom, and then only at any bear who got too close to the house.

I sort of miss the spring return of the does with their fawns.  

Oh well …

~~~

We lost another chicken.

Something had dug down at the corner of the fence around the chicken run and two of the whites got out.  They have always been the adventurous ones.

Siku is part husky and huskies catch birds for food.

Mark and Paul saw the chase and, while they were unable to stop the pursuit, they were able to get the other bird back in the run and the opening closed.

~~~

Paul and I had an interesting conversation the other day.  He was finishing his breakfast and I asked him what he had planned for the day.  He looked up and said “I don’t plan my days.” After a short pause, he added “Others plan them for me.”

I thought that was an interesting insight for an eight-year-old.

Then, after more thought, he added “I wait for an empty spot and then I decide what I want to do.”

He has a vast imagination.  Maybe he’ll wind up being a writer.  When the two of us are left alone, he can spend hours explaining things to me such as how a lego construction works, what it means, what the construction entailed, the problems and how they were solved (or failed to be solved), what his intention had been in the beginning, how it had changed, what he had planned for the next step, etc. etc. etc.

Those conversations remind me of phone calls with his brother when he was younger.  We’d reach the time when the conversation seemed to be in a lull and just as we would begin the goodbye process, Tyler would say “Oh, just one more thing, Nuna.” and off the conversation would go again.

~~~

You all know that I volunteer with the local food sharing programs, right?  Well … last monday I was paid!  I received a 20+ pound turkey.  The tag said $25+.  Nice pay …

~~~

It has been three years since George left and I’ve had a few off days …

It would have been easier had I died when he did.  Not better necessarily … just easier.

… from “Disappearing Earth” by Julia Phillips

So … ‘til next week … don’t eat too much …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Day 143 since the California lockdown with 245 thousand US dead …

A day late and a dollar short … as one of my parents or grandparents would say (I can’t recall which one right now).

Yesterday was just one of those days.  I left the house at 0700, almost finished the list of to-do stuff, and got home in time for dinner at 1700 (5:00).  I failed to go into Mt Shasta for the last thing on the list, but Kamille will do it for me today.

So, here I am … a day late.  My busy day seems to be falling on Wednesday regularly.  Maybe I should change the blog day.

Oh well …

~~~

Let’s see … yesterday began with the need to be in Yreka at the courthouse around 0800 and so no time for the blog.  My apologies …

First stop in Yreka was the office of the Siskiyou County Supreme Court to get a copy of a trial decision from a case heard back in 1990.  It was a case between neighbors (two of whom are now dead and one living on Maui) over water flow and the uses thereof.  It might be important to the current controversies over water in this area.

Second stop was the office of the County Recorder to research the deed and easement rights of a parcel of land pertinent to a controversy over the use of one of the Hammond Ranch East subdivision’s roads.  The Planner, in charge of this subject in the Recorder’s office, and I were in “conference” for about two hours.  We looked at (and he explained to me the meanings of) a clutch of documents and maps dated as far back as 1968.

The first result of that interaction was the discovery of a glaring error in re one Ranch road which needs to be corrected.  It is listed in the County maps as a US Forest Service road when it is actually a private road belonging to those holding access easements.  I will need to bring that to the attention of the landowners’ association and figure out what hoops we need to jump through to get it corrected so that tourists and holiday guide books stop sending people through our area as a way to access to public lands.

The other big discovery was that a parcel of land between our subdivision and an adjacent subdivision is actually part of neither.  It seems so strange to be dealing with “subdivisions” in this remote, rural area, but back to the learning session. That parcel is, after several changes in parcel boundaries, multiple owners, and grievous confusion, a source of trouble caused either by stupidity or as a result of possibly intentional misrepresentation by the original land developer.

So I now have a handful of documents to bring to the next decision-making meeting over this problem … and some new knowledge about how our County government does things.

When that interaction was finished, I was hungry.  I hadn’t taken time for breakfast before leaving home.  Bacon burgers, fries, and a drink at 1130.

Next was the drive back south to the local food share where I picked up a week’s supply of food for the neighbor who dropped the tree on his leg.  Home to Yreka is nearly an hour each direction.

The food pick-up, which always involves at least forty-five minutes to an hour in line,  was followed by my weekly trip to the library.  By then it was already an hour or two into the afternoon.

Then to the local feed store for chicken food.  We were completely out so I had to get layer pellets and scratch and spend a friendly amount of time talking with Barry, who runs the feed store from his house. He has personal medical issues (he knows I am a nurse) and an elderly, arthritic dog with whom he is deeply involved.  It is a local business so it requires a bit more time than the in-and-out of a bigger commercial interaction.

On the way home I had to stop by the home of one of the new HLA Board members to deliver her informational packet and then by Rodney’s place to drop off his food. The stop at Rodney’s also required chatting time.  He lives alone, is a rather queer-duck with few friends or contacts, knows one of his town contacts has been diagnosed with COVID and so is insistent about maintaining distance which, in addition to the deep laceration and broken bone, made getting the food into his house a bit complicated. By the time that was done and I got home it was 1600 (4 o’clock), I hadn’t had time to go to the toilet all day (like doing a full 10hour shift in the Emergency Department … coffee before the shift began, toilet after it ended), and was very glad I was not the one required to fix dinner.

After dinner the chicken feed had to be taken to the chicken house, the evening chicken routine handled, the day’s emails checked, and the dinner dishes washed.  

By 1930 I was able to get into bed and read my current adventure book for an hour before nodding off. It took me to Palestine pre-Israel.

And that is why this week’s blog is a day late.  However, I am still a dollar short.

~~~

The other big event last week was my first appointment with a dentist in way too long a time.  Dental appointments leave me an anxiety wreck dating back to experiences as a kid.

My lower left molar had lost the cap a few months ago.  Following consultation and x-rays, I was told there is a partial fracture across the space between the working surface of the tooth and the roots (molars have two), the beginning of infection at the base of both roots, and the only way forward is extraction.  That is scheduled for the 30th at 0900.  Fortunately the new dentist believed me when I told him I would need novacaine bigly and nitrous if I am to survive.  We shall see. I have never had a tooth pulled with the exception of a couple of wisdom teeth and that was done under anesthesia because they had to break the teeth to get them out.

I’ll let you know how I survive … or not.

~~~

Weather last weekend and all the way into yesterday was a switch to cold, wind, and rain.  Over three days we had between 3 and 4 inches of rain.  Had it been snow we’d  be knee deep.

At least it put a dent in the fire danger.  They haven’t yet declared the season over, but essentially that is the state of things.

~~~

Oh … and I forget to tell you we lost one of the white laying hens.  She had been acting off for a couple of weeks … not roosting with the others, showing signs of being low on the pecking order such as loss of head and tail feathers, seemingly not interested in food, the last to start the day and the first to end it … just generally not so good.  Monday evening she was on her side out in the yard being pecked on by the others.  Attempts to move her were unsuccessful and she was dead by morning.  When something like that happens, it makes me sad … but nature knows what she is doing.  Or so I have to believe.

That leaves sixteen layers and that is still enough to feed this family.  I had a rasher of bacon, an over-easy egg, and a blueberry roll for breakfast this morning.

~~~

That’s enough for this week.  It is now nearly noon. 

This week’s thought …

Do not be dismayed by the hypocrisy of others, nor by your own inconsistencies. Our lives are all journeys through hills and valleys.

 So … ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

 As a wise Yogi once said … It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.

Fire season … COVID … elections … autumn …

Last friday we had a touch of rain mixed with corn snow in the morning.   Then saturday I woke up to snow covering the ground and tree branches.  Not a lot.  Less than 0.5 inch.  But the first snow is always a treat.  Out my window looked a bit like a holiday card.  And, of course, it was gone by sundown.

But sunday morning, as I went out to the chickens, there was over an inch of fresh, pure white on the ground and the red carpet under the maple tree was hidden under a white base with colour spots provided in shades of gold by the cherry tree.  I opened the coop door and the hens rushed out, as they usually do.  That was followed by a traffic jam as the last of the bunch trying to get out met the first out trying to get back in.  A Keystone Kop moment.

I think it is safe to say the danger of a massive, destructive fire is over for this season.  Thank you for all the protective affirmations.

~~~

Mark  and Paul have been busy bringing in firewood.  Paul finishes on-line school about 2:30, so after a play break and a snack, off they go to the drying yard.  As of now, the wood shed is only about a tier short.  And the solarium is working so we gather heat every sunny day.

It is a good thing the decision was made to keep Paul in home schooling. Last monday one of the teachers at the middle school was diagnosed positive.  That means all those who chose to go back to in-person schooling, and their relatives, are now on watch.

This was a rather secure part of the state until last week when there was a burst of positives at the local community college and at the boys and girls club.  We now have three cases in the hospital and have had our first death. Everyone is edgy.  

~~~

There is a new one on my prayer candle.  A neighbor severed an artery just below his knee when a tree he was dropping fell a bit off.  In addition to the bad laceration, the accident also broke a bone in his lower leg.  Fortunately he was alert enough to put on a tourniquet immediately and the people for whom he was working got there quickly.  Mark, as the fire company responder, was there within fifteen minutes.  It was a miracle.  Bleed out from an artery takes only minutes.

Our neighbor depends on the local food sharing programs and, of course, won’t be driving for a while.  We are making arrangements to collect his weekly share and deliver it while he is laid up.

~~~

More on the water issue …

Many years ago (at least 30) a new landowners diverted the water flow across her land which was fed by the creek on which George had our hydropower set up.  That diversion took the flow off of one downstream neighbor and put it across another’s land.  Those who lost the flow sued, but the court decided (against riparian descriptions … but that’s a different story) in favor of the new landowner.  I had forgotten that situation until just a couple of weeks ago.  Then it dawned on me and I realized it could have a rather significant impact on the current situation which took water away from us and five downstream neighbors.

So I went up to the courthouse, to the office of the Siskiyou Superior Court, to request a copy of the court decision in that case which likely would require the return of the water flow to the way it had been for more than forty years.

As seems to be usual in this County, there was nothing ready for me.  I had called last week and been told it would be ready friday. 

I got a bit angry, but stayed contained as I told them I had made a special trip north just to get those copies.  I think the lady in charge of my request got the message.  At least I hope she did.  So the new plan is for her to call me and tell me it’s ready (I won’t hold my breath), or for me to call again the end of this week.

~~~

Last evening was the first meeting of the new Landowners’ Association Board.  For the first time ever, it is an all female Board.  Challenges and chances.

Things did not go well.  As the leftover Officer from the previous Board, I had decided on the agenda and planned an organizational meeting with a minimum of “business” since five out of eight Board members were new.

I was selected as President (not a surprise).  

In the past, the Board meetings had gotten “loose” in that there was little structure.  I had tried to correct that, as I was able, since taking notes for minutes under those circumstances was at best difficult (I was the Secretary).  

I jumped into correcting that situation a little (or maybe a lot) too fast and wound up being insulted by two leftover members (who were acting under the old anything-goes mode) and being rude myself in a misguided effort to lead the meeting.  Now I am making apologies and researching Robert’s Rules of Order and Association By-Laws to pin down responsibilities and requirements.

I still plan on bringing order to meetings, but will take it a bit easier.

First off … explanations of Officers’ responsibilities and possible changes to the By-Laws.  I had prepared a packet of basic information for all Board members and asked that they read through it and be ready to discuss, comment, and offer suggestions at the December meeting.  We shall see.  I may be on the outside looking in.

Oh well …

~~~

None of us are immune to life’s challenges.  Do not be dismayed by the behavior of others, nor by your own inconsistencies. Our lives are all journeys through hills and valleys.  How we move through them is what defines us.  There are no mistakes, only lessons.

So, here I am … learning.

‘til next week …