4 November …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

 The catalpa is bare.  Only dry pods left there.

The birches are golden and are great indicators of whether the breeze is at ground level or up high since even a slight air movement sets them dancing.

The scarlet carpet under the maple is nearly complete.  I am gathering and pressing leaves for memory.

~~~

My Hallowe’en was quiet.  It’s been that way ever since we moved out here.  The boys used to make the rounds in town where there were streets full of houses.  And there was a costume parade down Mt Shasta Boulevard of little school (elementary) kids, parents, and teachers every year.  Not this year.  No parade.  No neighborhood walkthroughs.  Instead locals closed off main streets in several towns and folks reserved spaces to park vehicles with their trunks open and full of treats.  Sort of a substitute parade and trick-or-treat combined.

Before we moved here, we lived in a development in San Fernando Valley and George did up Hallowe’en in style.  I remember the year we draped spider webs all over the doorbell area where we also had an intercom.  Then George stood to the side, in dark rags, holding up a scarecrow figure made of bent wires (hard to describe but he was an artist).  A dad came down the street accompanied by a wee pink bunny.  The bunny got up courage enough to reach under the web and ring the doorbell.  I answered from inside the house in my best witchy voice “Ooooh.  What a cuddly  bunny.  Welcome.” and, as the bunny said “Trick or treat”, George moaned and shook the scarecrow. Since it was just twisted wire draped in old clothes, it swayed and shivered.  The poor little bunny screamed, wet its pants, and went running down the walk toward the street where dad had been waiting, holding a martini glass.  At the scream, Dad dropped his glass and went running down the street with the bunny racing behind.

We hadn’t recognized them as part of our immediate neighborhood so we were never able to apologize, but it became a Hallowe’en we never forgot.  I’ll bet the dad hasn’t either.

~~~

The hens are still in molt.  One day last week we got only two eggs.  I threaten them, telling them they are no longer earning their keep.  I hope they are listening. 

~~~

 I’ve had a busy few days via books.  Did a lot of traveling … East bank of the Nile between Memphis and Thebes, late 15th century BCE … London, early 1920s … Bethel, the year of the Witching … Chaco, late 1990s …

One place I went could almost be here and now …

I live in a land where malignity rules, where fear and shame dwell.  I see botched and corrupted lives, failed hopes, broken dreams, murders and mutilations.  Injustices committed with authority.  I see people with no souls doing the worse possible things to people with no power.  For what?  For nothing more than riches and power.  There is no honour and no dignity in such things.”  (Nick Drake)

And then I remembered being a teenager, writing a senior class assigned essay which I titled “Lidice, never again”, believing nothing like that could ever happen here.

I now await the result of yesterday’s voting.

~~~

 When I get up to dress each morning, I go into my closet where I have a chair on which I sit while putting on stockings etc.  It is under a small window facing east.  I’m used to looking out that window and seeing the morning star between some pines.  Since the time change, I no longer see it.  It is now behind the southern tree by the time I am getting dressed.  I dislike time changing.  If I had my way, we’d pick one or the other and stick with it all year like Hawai’i and Arizona do.

That led me to the general topic of seeing stars and I realized that the sky here has changed quite a bit over the time I’ve lived here.  When we first moved out here, the sky was dark (except at full Moon time) and we could see lots of stars and planets.  Gradually, that has changed.

The sky is now light blue-grey even on dark Moon nights, I no longer see a sky full of stars.  I still see the bright planets and some of the brighter stars, but the glory spread is gone … lost to light pollution, even this far out in the woods.  The small towns of Mt Shasta and Weed have increased their night lighting tenfold.  Even way out here, new folks are keeping outdoor lights on all night.  Afraid of bears and others, both animal and human, I guess.

During past summers, the grandchildren and I used to spend a night or two out in the meadow in the back of the pick-up just looking at the sky, especially during meteor falls.  We’d snuggle under quilts with the guard dog at our feet.  That is no longer an option.  

I can still see Ursa and Orion and Cassiopia, but tracking other constellations is getting difficult.  

Oh well …

~~~

With the world as it is, I remind myself …

Nothing is too difficult to overcome. You’ve survived so many hardships and moments that pushed you to your limits. Instead of giving up, you survived and came out stronger. You can do that again. Keep believing. Keep going.

So … ‘til next week …

28 October …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Last wednesday was the first really chilly night.  I woke up about midnight and partially closed the window.  I also put on a pajama top.  

Friday morning … 32⁰ at dawn.

Monday at dawn … 24⁰.

This morning … 30⁰.

Guess I’d better make sure the extra comforter goes to be cleaned so it will be ready if it gets much colder.  

~~~

I remember being concerned, and a bit ashamed, of my grandmother’s eyes because they were always leaking.  Now mine have started doing the same thing.  It’s a darn nuisance.

A friend told me a friend of hers was having that problem and the doctor told her it was age related dry eye and advised using eye drops.

I started last  thursday.

~~~

When I first went to work in the Mt Shasta Emergency Department (the hospital was Eskaton at that time which became Mercy and then a branch of a Sisters of Mercy Health Care West and is now Dignity Health Care) there were two Barbaras, two Arlenes, and two Wilma. Two RNs and four LVNs and we worked without an in-house doc.  We were the complete staff.  No wonder they hired me so quickly.  

The two of us named Wilma are within a year in age.  Soon we were Little Wilma and Big Wilma (because she was so much shorter than me).

We became close friends.  We used to have a routine for our birthdays.  She would take me to a Country Music show and I would take her to see a Shakespeare play.  We’d always do dinner together and it was a broadening experience for both of us.  Eventually she would occasionally use a Shakespeare quote in conversation.  I had always liked Johnny Cash and learned to like Jackson Brown (but not Toby Keith!).  She experienced sushi (but never became a fan) and I learned biscuits, country fried steak, and gravy was a great dinner or breakfast.

She lived on the other side of the Mountain in McCloud.

Then we both reached retirement age and drifted apart.  She became a widow and I began staying close to George and eventually became a widow as well.

Last week I realized I hadn’t wished her Happy Birthday in years and her birthday was last wednesday, the 21st.  I found a card, wrote a note, and sent it.  Thursday she called.

She is going blind and has a severe hearing loss.  I’m still plugging along.  I will go over to visit soon.  

I am so glad I sent that card.

~~~

The trees continue to change colour, but most of them are hanging onto their leaves.  The oaks have done that three years in a row.  Even the red maple, which is decorating the ground, remains quite full of leaves.  

The catalpa and birches are still leaf-loaded.  A breeze in the birches is a real trip as is sitting silently watching the catalpa leaves drift down … one at a time … with Beethoven’s 6th playing in the background.  Sort of reminds me of one of the cuts in the original Fantasia.

~~~

Every year, around this time, I used to bake plum breakfast cakes.  They were a favorite of George’s.  

We have loads of pears and plums.  But the habit of baking for freezing is no longer pertinent.  Still, memory takes hold, … so I pureed pears for the moisture and chopped plums for the add-ins … it was an excellent (and nutritious) breakfast cake enjoyed by all.

The number of apples available is increasing so I guess apple crisp, apple pie, apple cake, apple salad, apple ??? will be next.

~~~

Well … it isn’t official yet, but the local fire company is kaput.  There were two sleepers who were sort of the last straw.  One of them turned out to have a congenital heart condition like those which killed those young, healthy high school and college age athletes.  It is stress induced and showed up as fainting spells when on a fire call.  That left the other at the firehouse by himself so he asked for a transfer to another fire company.  Now there is essentially no one other than Mark to respond to calls.  So the dissolution which began 35 years ago (as attested to by fire fighters who were around then) is nearly complete.  

I read an article in the BBC News about Easter Island closing itself off COMPLETELY when the first COVID case showed up with tourists.

They went back to traditions from the past centered on respect and cooperation.  They had become dependent on food imports from Chile and income from tourism.  Now, just six months later, their newspaper is in their native language, they are growing their own food, preserving their past by teaching their children history and traditions, and creating a strong community wherein help is available when needed without a thought of “how much will it cost?”.

That is what this area (Hammond Ranch) had when George and I moved here and which is almost completely lacking now.

Every week it becomes easier to contemplate leaving.

Oh well …

~~~

The other morning I awoke from a dream which sort of featured a doc I used to work with in the Emergency Department.  Don was young (of course most people are young to me), very nice-looking, had a great bedside manner, was a top notch diagnostician, had a loving wife, and knew how to handspin.

One day we were chatting during a lull in patients and the subject “What is one of your vivid memories of grade school?” came up.  I’ll never forget his answer …

I remember one of the jocks in high school who, between dances at the prom, said in a loud voice intended to carry, “Which would you rather have, a million dollars or Donnie’s nose full of nickels?”

Words can last forever.  So …

Whenever you have a choice what to be … be kind. 

‘Til next week …

21 October …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Mornings are noticeably cooler … in the low 40s.  We may even have had a frost.  There is a bit of snow on the top of the Mountain with more predicted for the future.

Still, after all those years of learning how to live in this house, my room stays where I am comfortable.  I open the east window halfway at bedtime, close it when I get up, open the windows into the solarium as soon as sunlight hits the front of the house, close them as the sun goes down.  Heat all day, fresh air (when there is no smoke) as I sleep.  Habit …

~~~

 Last monday, at 2:30, was the 68th anniversary of the day I said “I do” and promised ‘til death do us part … for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, in bad times and in good. 

I choose to break the time limit. 

Vows and memories.

~~~

Yesterday was a busy one. 

It started before dawn when Siku met a skunk.  Fortunately, it wasn’t near the hen house.  Skunks used to occasionally decide they liked eggs, but that’s been some time ago.  Result of the meeting?  Siku is banned from the house to kennel jail for a time.

It was the last of the produce Tailgate food sharing for this year.  I did my regular sign-in thing without any challenges over masks.  We provided fresh produce for 198 people in the local area.  The weather was nice.  I left home with three layers of clothing and dropped only one all day.  This last sharing included Lots of corn on the cob, a Huge number of huge bell peppers, apples, pears, frozen strawberries, yams, and potatoes.  Next tailgate won’t be until April.

Then went to Yreka to do some research for HLA and for our water situation.  As I was going through the check point. as I entered the Courthouse, I was stopped by the beeper.  I’d forgotten I still had my knife in my pocket (the one I use to open sacks of chicken feed).  Oops … but they just set it aside to return to me as I left the building.  Guess I don’t fit the terrorist profile.

I was able to get a copy of the deed for the property beside the reservoir which has been causing problems with trespass and parking in road space for years.  I had called the local title company to ask about ordering a copy and they said they’d do it, but the price would be $500.00 !!!  So I went to the County Recorder’s office and got a copy for $7.00.  

Also went to the office of the State Superior Court and ordered a copy of the decision in a water case from back before the turn of the century.  That will cost me about $25.00.

An hour drive in each direction, but that’s thinking time.  And stopped to get take-out for dinner.  By the time I got the chickens put away, I was pooped and ready for bed.

BUT … that lasted until about 8:30 when the dog started barking.  Must have been a bear rambling through.

Oh well …

~~~

The red carpet under the maple tree is about two-thirds done.  The tree still looks full of leaves, but the ground is pretty well covered.

The catalpa is 95% yellow-green and the birches are starting to turn a lovely orange-yellow.

And the roads are edged with milkweed fluff like white lace.

~~~

I have fallen waaaaaaaaaaaaay behind in the German classes.  I do want to get back to them as soon as life slows down a bit.  I can’t decide whether first thing each day or just before bedtime will work best.  But if I am to keep a  place in the dinner table conversations as Paul gains proficiency, I’d better start again soon. 

Today is the Weed Food Assistance sharing day, followed by the library, a trip to the grocery for some orange juice, and a visit with my friend Neera.

~~~

Have been reading “Mexican Gothic” … sort of a gaslighting, haunted house thing set in the silver mining area of central Mexico.  Not a bad read.  And there was a dash of the past as I read.  One of the characters was described as resembling Katy Jurado.  It reminded me of the time back in 1961, when we were living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin while George was on a research assignment.  

Katy Jurado had starred, along with Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly in the film “High Noon”.  A radio announcer on one of the local stations was doing a movie report and mangling Sra. Jurado’s name … he was doing something like Kay’ tee Ger’aw ta (a bit like Geritol).  I called the station and spent twenty minutes or so trying to teach the announcer how to say Caw’ tee Hur ah’doe.  He never did get it and I finally gave up.

What surprised me about seeing the reference in the book was that the author is too young to have known about Sra. Jurado’s Hollywood time.  Still, reminders of pleasant times are always welcome.

~~~

The chickens are in full molt and egg production varies from 3 to 7 a day.  

To close this week … a reminder from Camus …

Autumn is a second Spring when every leaf is a flower.

So … ‘til next week …

14 October …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

We had a slight change in the weather last saturday.  Rain …

We didn’t get much here, but it was enough that the ground still showed damp sunday morning.  Down river to the northwest, where the fires were a problem, they got an inch or more.

And there is even a sprinkling of snow on the very tiptop of the Mountain.

Thank you to all the singers, dancers, and prayer folks.  

Don’t stop now.

~~~

On sunday, we went to the movie!  Really.  Our local theatre is now open on friday, saturday, and sunday with restricted seating.  We went to see “Hocus Pocus” and the five of us were the only folks in that part (plex?) of the theatre.  There were other folks there, but they were in the other areas seeing different movies. 

Strange new world.

And as an aside … did you know the “magical” words Hocus Pocus are believed to be a perversion of the Latin blessing from the Catholic mass, Hoc est corpus meum, or “This is my body.” 

~~~

Signs of autumn …

Milkweed and cattails dressed in their fluff … dragonflies in aerial mating dances … brown carpet with red leaf patterns under the maple … nose nipping morning temperatures in the LOW 40s … light (welcome) smoke in the air from morning woodstove fires … hot cereal for breakfast … 

~~~

A few days ago, as I was on my way home from the store, I looked across the lower meadow and saw a tree stump which had been torn out and tossed aside.  One of the roots was pointing right at the Mountain.  I took that as a reminder to really look at everything.  My move next year will take me back to southern California where I grew up and lived until 1976.  All the scenes I cherish from my time here will be memories to sustain me and so I am learning to look closer than ever.

~~~

Pizza at the Firehouse” last thursday went well.  There were three no-shows and we were able to accommodate two walk-ups.  We had my friend Sally who was the main presenter of the information, my friend Neera who was the greeter, and me plus an audience of fifteen.

As usual, the pizza was not to my taste because it was pretty bland, but we had to supply what would be acceptable to most people.  I’m a fan of “whatever you can find … add it”.  Garbage pizza.

I had been thinking about a way to end the “show” which would make folks remember at least some of what they heard.  I know from experience that if I am bored I forget easily, and so decided I would be the fool at the end with laughs to help them remember.

I  had found individually wrapped toilet paper rolls at the local Grocery Outlet.  When I whipped out the tp the laughs were audible.  So I told them a true story about a neighbor who ran out of toilet paper during a snowstorm and was in a panic.  

I pointed out that tp is useful for more than wiping your bum … nosebleeds and other bleeds such as skinned knees etc., wiping up spills and tears, noseblowers and napkins, with mother-spit it washes faces, etc.

All in all, we did a bit more than okay.

~~~
Here’s a reverse brag.

One day last week I saw a big, black, honkin’ pick-up truck with “100% certified white boy” painted on the side.  My inclination was to take my key and scratch “100% white girl, family line back to 1620, … and I say phooey.

But I didn’t do it.

~~~

There will be only one more meeting of this HLA Board and that will be to acknowledge the new Board.  I had high hopes, but only one of those who were said to have agreed to serving on the Board showed up for the meeting.

There are a couple of meaty problems awaiting a new Board … roads and the fire coverage situation.  One local fire company has already closed with two others, including ours, on the rocks.  The new folks to the area expect the service but also expect someone else to provide it.

I’m toying with ideas to try to motivate possible volunteers, but haven’t yet had any inspiration.  Maybe a chart showing current fire insurance costs and the change if there is no local coverage mailed to all landowners?

~~~

The SpinTogether week is over and my output was a bit over 6,000 yards.  I’d hoped for more, but it was another chaotic week.  I am pleased, however, with what I did get spun.  I know our team couldn’t compete with the professional handspinners who use electric wheels, some of whom spin bulky yarns, but I think we did okay.

~~~

To close this week, I saw this in a book I am reading (“The Angel of the Crows” by K. Addison)

When asked “Are you okay?” it is acceptable to say “No, I’m not okay, but I’m alive, and that will have to do.”

So … ‘til next week …

7 October …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Three fires in the Weed/Mt Shasta area last week.  Two in an area north of Weed, one of which may have been a meth lab explosion and one on the Mountain which was most likely started by intruders into a closed forest area.

Pray for rain.

Dance for rain.

~~~

 The wild animals have been moving, whether from weather or just the time of year … I don’t know.  What I do know is that they seem to be escaping ending up as roadkill.  I’ve been seeing skid marks on the local roads, even the gravel ones, lots of skid marks but no smashed remains.  Might be deer or wild turkeys or the bear sow with triplets causing the skids … but, of course, in the case of the sow and cubs it might be the driver who could wind up as roadkill.  I’ve learned to keep an eye out for any animals on the road.

I guess the skids are made by folks who don’t know the area and are probably driving too fast.

~~~

All the Canada geese are gone.  It seems strange to drive past the reservoir area and not see geese, ducks, herons, or any birds.  The sand cranes seem to have gone south as well.  It’s been a week since I’ve seen or heard them.

~~~

Remember me telling you the oaks weren’t dropping all their leaves the last two autumns?  Well, it’s happening again.  The trees look so strange with all the clusters of dried leaves.  However, the acorn crop seems to be great.

~~~

Last sunday things went whooee-boy.  The weather changed to smoke and chill. A fire academy trainee under Mark came back to visit.  Tyler‘s battery seemed to have gone dead so Kamille took off to jump start him.  Mark got home with Kendrick (the visitor) and before they could settle in to talk, Mark had to go out to rescue both Tyler and Kamille. 

But finally things calmed down and we had a nice dinner together.

~~~

There are some changes happening in living arrangements.  Tyler has found a place with a friend in Weed.  Two rooms, several closets, a bath, and plenty of room for his animal collection.  I will miss seeing him, even occasionally.  His aim is to be on his own so I doubt he’ll be around much. 

~~~

The annual spinning week began last saturday. So far I am bombing out. Things I had promised to help with required doing NOW, plus early evenings and late mornings are cutting into lighted spin time. Three days and only two bobbins full. Still, at lace weight that could be some good yardage.

And today is a full day. I’ll be on my way in about half and hour and be home who knows when. So the thought for this week ...

 A fleeting moment” — funny words for a twelve-year-old to dream.

When I woke up, I felt great, as if the veil of sadness had lifted.  A spiritualist would say that I had experienced a visitation.  A psychologist would say that my subconscious had manufactured this dream scenario to fulfill an emotional need for closure.  In any case, I learned what would turn out to be a valuable lesson: that something terrible can happen to you, and yet, the day after this something terrible, the sun still rises, and life goes on.  And therefore, so must you.

… from Martin Short’s autobiography “I Must Say”

‘Til next week …

30 September …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Last evening the moon was red when it rose.  The higher it went, the clearer and whiter it became.  The smoke was hugging the ground to the southeast but the sky was clear overhead  This morning smoke is again wrapping us.  Looking out my south window, I am unable to see across the meadow to Mt Eddy.  It must be from the rather extensive fire in Igo west of Redding.

A cousin who lives in Chicago tells me the sunsets have been rather spectacular there due to smoke from California’s fires, and friends of Mark’s in Rochester, New York say the same … red-red sun and  moon.

~~~

Made a trip north with a friend last friday.  We have each had extended contacts in Ashland and Medford, just not together.  It was interesting as we talked and compared notes.  There weren’t very many places which we shared and those we did share offered very different memories.  She is 25 years younger than I.  About the only things we share are that we are (in my case was) Registered Nurses and that we both now live on Hammond Ranch.

One interesting (there’s that word again) comparison was … there is a small local brewery only a block or two from the theatres in downtown Ashland where friends and I used to go for lunch pub style.   She’d never been there.  But there is another small local brewery just off the main Ashland exit on I-5 that she knew and I didn’t.

And speaking of breweries … although it wasn’t a brewery, there used to be a bar in downtown Mt Shasta which was granted a special license to open while they were getting ready for the day  (beer only) for night nurses … night shift ended at 0730 in those days.  Guess the takeaway is that a lot of nurses are beer drinkers.

~~~
The maple is still turning red … slowly … but the catalpa is almost all yellow.  On one of my trips out, I noticed the dogwoods are starting to turn also.

But temperatures are all over the place.  Pressure areas over the north Pacific are erratic.  Sometimes we have warmth off the Pacific.  Other times we get the chill brought by the Jet Stream. 

The result is lows in the 40s with highs in the 80s.

~~~
Just last spring (before COVID) I got to see the new Met production of “Porgy and Bess” in HD.  Spellbinding.

Then saturday morning I had Sirius playing in the background.  It was the Buffalo Symphony’s orchestral version of the Porgy and Bess Suite under the baton (how’s that for a snooty phrase?) of Foletta.  

As I only half listened, identifying each character with their music, it occurred to me that the Gershwins had created a real ensemble piece.  No one character overshadows the others by having all the good arias.  Neither “Summertime”  nor “My Man’s Gone Now” are sung by Bess.  Jake, Crown, Sportin’ Life, Robbins, and others share the men’s arias with Porgy.  Even the street vendors have their own.

My only comment … Ira and George, your Mama must have been proud.

~~~

Birds have been singing softer.  People who know birds say it is most likely the smoke.  This morning there is no birdsong at all.

There was morning noise however.  Siku is let out of the house for his morning business about 6 and this morning he set up a serenade.  The bear must have still been in the area.

~~~

 The international Spin Together begins next saturday.  I’m as ready as I can be.  Fiber is drafted (although I may do a bit more just to make sure I have enough ready), Matilda is oiled and standing by, all the bobbins have been checked (once I had a bobbin fall apart with an almost full batch … talk about a mess), and I have a timer to remind me to get up and stretch every hour or so.  

Next week’s blog may be short but I’ll give you an update.

~~~

And …

“At some of the darkest moments in my life, some people I thought of as friends deserted me – some because they cared about me and it hurt them to see me in pain; others because I reminded them of their own vulnerability, and that was more than they could handle. But real friends overcame their discomfort and came to sit with me. If they had not words to make me feel better, they sat in silence (much better than saying, “You’ll get over it,” or “It’s not so bad; others have it worse”) and I love them for it.”      … Rabbi Harold Kushner

So, thank you for still being here and ‘til next week …

23 September …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

NOAA had advised heavy winds last week and as a result there were power blackouts in our area due to power company fears, but not too much wind.  I think climate change has the weather predictors as confused as are the local flora and fauna.

Smoke is still around periodically and scattered.  But if you want to know what the air is like, whether you should worry or not, just blow your nose.  If your snot is dirty … 

~~~

Chicken time is moving more rapidly than in the past.  Or so it seems.  6:45 to 7:00 in both the morning and the evening.  I am trying to remember the extremes of mid-winter.  Around 8:30 and 5:30, I think.

We have a broody hen.  One of the reds has taken over a nest.  She’s been there for about a week.  She doesn’t fight when I reach under her to gather the eggs.  But she doesn’t leave the nest either.

I can’t remember how Daddy used to break a brood cycle.  This family decided we should just put a clutch of plastic Easter eggs under her and let the urge run its course.

The other chicken news is that saturday evening, when I went out to water, feed, and close them in for the night, one of the whites was stumbling around with a twig about two feet long tied to one of her feet.  The string was pretty secure, and there was string around her other foot as well.  I held her and tried to cut the string off with my penknife, but the string was too tough and the position too awkward.  So I called Mark to come and bring sharp scissors, and although it took about five minutes, we got both feet free.   I’m not sure how string got fastened around the twig (small branch?) and then around both of her feet.  Or how it stayed secured to just one foot.  But the result was satisfactory and she is again walking naturally.  The only harm was to my right wrist.  Once, during the procedure, her wing got away from me and she got me with her wing claw.  Just a small puncture.  So over all, it was an uneventful event.

~~~

I had gotten in the habit of checking NOAA’s enhanced radar post every morning to see what the weather had in store for this area.  It was always easy to find us because there was always a dot of moisture (clouds?) over the summit of Mt Shasta to the east of us.

Lately, with all the smoke from the fires, I guess the radar got confused (along with flora, fauna, and weather predictors).  Maybe the smoke looks the same as clouds from up there in satellite orbit and, since smoke has been covering the majority of the northern state, the Mountain is no longer distinguishable.  No more identifying small dot.

Oh well …

~~~

Dame Diana Rigg died last week.  She was in her 80s, still going strong in spite of …

Back in the days when she was Emma Peel to Patrick McNee’s Steed, I was captivated.  I had always felt a bit awkward and never pretty.  I was too tall, brunet, and too smart when small, cute, blonde, and not overly bright was the thing to be.  But there was Mrs. Peel … tall, brunet, and smart.  

I was envious.

Dame Diana had become a bit stooped and her face was lined.  But her eyes still twinkled and flowed with what she was thinking.  She was described as bossy and funny and raunchy.

I am still envious.

~~~

Wind and chill this morning.  

I recently agreed to participate in a challenge to write a poem everyday for two weeks.  It has been a challenge.  There is only today and tomorrow to go.

It has been sort of fun.  I’ve experimented with forms.  But several times a subject has been the challenge.  On a day when I’m feeling a bit blue I had to choose whether to express the feeling or look for something upbeat about which I could (should) be happy.  Happy usually won.  Why make someone else’s day difficult?

Here’s the one I think may be the best of the clutch … and forgive that the form isn’t correct. I don’t seem to be able to make “My Drive” cooperate.

The first of autumn’s red leaves 

Have hit the ground,

Rubies among the dry grasses 

And gravel.

The sunrise is now due east. 

Mornings are chilly.

Deer visit regularly, foraging.

The autumn tablecloths have come out of storage.

Another year nearly gone.  

Soon the individual red leaves 

Will be a solid red carpet.

Winter is only weeks away.

… or maybe the funniest …

A bellyache

A bellyache

I woke up with

A bellyache

A bellyrub

A bellyrub

I cured it with

A bellyrub

Home remedy

Home remedy

Quite simply a

Home remedy

~~~

And another death.  The Notorious RBG died.  I had not admired her in the way I admired Dame Diana.  But I did and do admire Judge Ginsburg.  Intelligent and spirited.

When I heard the announcement of her death, I was on my way to a meeting.  I arrived a bit shaken.  

What this means for the future of Justice in this country …

This from Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451 –

We need not be left alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?

So … ‘til next week …

16 September …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

It has been a hellish week … buildings too numerous to count destroyed, pet animals rescued as well as lost, wildlife displaced, an historic observatory endangered, restrictions on intermingling, even some lives lost, and smoke, smoke, smoke, and more smoke.

A recent headline said … Air quality is at HAZARDOUS LEVELS (330+) throughout much of Siskiyou County.

Cummon, Hollywood (or wherever they make movies nowadays), let’s see some all singing, all dancing films.  Forget a “great” story.  Just entertain me.

~~~

Weather has been yup … oops … chilly out there … yup … not that … a little warm … okay … wind, but not strong … yup … ad infinitum.

Folks are putting energy into prayers for rain.  That information reminded me of a story from a couple of generations ago about two college girls traveling back roads and participating in local customs by offering (after a drink or two) to demonstrate a rain dance, getting to their feet (woozily) to do the twist or boogaloo or some such only to find it was beginning to rain.  

Where are college girls when you need them?

~~~

Last week a heavy wind storm was predicted for this area and the local power company shut down power to a good-sized swath of housing.  They are still dealing with the fallout from last year’s fires, some of which were caused by downed power lines.  It didn’t affect us since we make our own power, but the crux of the story is that we never got the winds.  Here at Cold Comfort, we are still under that protective bubble (thanks for any energy/prayers sent our way), and the problems are going around us.  Current forecast is for rain in a few days.

Remember the college girls and hold that thought …

~~~

Tyler is still working with animal control for fire displaced animals.  He has stories about a horse-mule combo who refused to be separated, a kitten blinded in one eye who is anticipated to have more offers of adoption than one kitten can fill, and enough other stories to fill a book.  He seems to have a way with cats and has been working with the frightened, lost, anxious, bewildered, aggressive cats showing up in the shelters.  I guess that could be characterized as cat-whispering.

Paul goes to school via the internet every week day and it is an education into teaching methods.  If a parent is watching while reinforcing, it can explain a lot about what happens in a classroom under “normal” circumstances.

Kamille is working every day prepping food for the kids who, during a regular school year, eat at school. She is also acting as a TA for two special-needs children.

Mark is supervising Paul’s school time, keeping track of fire situations and what is available in our area by way of firefighting personnel and equipment, keeping the on-line functioning of the church under control, and doing all the head-of-household stuff.  Keeps him occupied.

Me ???  Still doing the food share work much as in the past.  Yesterday was the next to last produce share (Tailgate Party) for this year.  Later this morning is the Weed Food Assistance drive-thru.  And of course, I do my library thing as usual.  No, not really as usual.  Usual for COVID times.

Last week I read two books which told the same story … there are monsters among us.  One was titled “Pet” by a black author.  The other was “the Gone Dead” by a white author.  

They were not easy reads, either of them.  One surprise was that, at one point in the story, chapters about black-white interactions could have been switched from one book to the other and the switch would have been nearly seamless except for character names.  In fact, as I was reading, the words were so similar that for a few minutes I thought I had picked up the first of the two by mistake and was re-reading.  

A second surprise was the identity of the monsters.  

I felt I was the choir to whom the lesson was being preached and so was confused that the sermon turned out to be not what I had expected. 

Want to take a walk through a maze?  Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

~~~ 

I had brunch with a new friend last week (I brought the pastries, she made the BLACK coffee).  It was a pleasant hour and a half sharing background stories.  You know … getting acquainted.

One discovery was we are both poets.  So we are in a challenge … a poem a day for the next two weeks to be shared at our next brunch time.  No requirements as to style or form or subject.

Here’s my first …

    A challenge I said.

Will I do it and learn from 

  What I write each day?

And along that line of thought …

Because poetry requires an economy of words, each word must be densely packed with meaning and feeling so that a minimum of words conveys ideas and emotions too complex or too numinous to be captured in standard prose and in doing so, a good poem opens a gate and invites the reader to fully participate in writing the rest of the story. The Chinese calligraphy figure for “poem” literally reads “word temple” which explains it all. … Author unknown

So … onward … “til next week …

9 September …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Yesterday morning, about 1000, a call went out for a fire check on a column of smoke just outside Happy Camp downriver to the northwest of us (about 70 miles, as the crow flies).  Within fifteen minutes, Happy Camp and the adjacent area along the Klamath River and Indian Creek were being evacuated!  Less than 90 minutes later, structures were being lost.  Another 30 minutes and the hills west of Ashland, 80 miles north across the Oregon border, were on fire.  By noon two towns on both sides of I-5 north of Ashland were on fire (Talent and Phoenix). By 1530 there had been two fires in Mt Shasta which were quickly contained and the Oregon-California border was closed as fire walled off I-5.  Mark wound up being the communication hub between local fire groups and whomever (for which he received a dressing down by the County fire marshall for arranging the hub without permission from the top in spite of the marshall being out of the area and the arrangement being necessary, useful, and free).  And yesterday afternoon, my older grandson, who works with the local humane society, was sent to Happy Camp to help with evacuated animals.

Reports this morning are grim.  But we are still surrounded by protection.  Thank you for all the caring prayers.

Now … onward.

~~~

The smoke had been really bad for a couple of days last week.   Sunday it was so thick the air was dense, orange, and heavy.  That was the day vacationers in the Mammoth area of California were evacuated by the California National Guard in a very large Air Force type transport plane and the outdoor services at Mark’s church were cancelled.

This dawn there was a slight breeze and the sky is clear.

~~~

Thursday morning the headline on the BBC website was “Trump tells North Carolina voters to vote twice”.   Then the next day the headline was “Americans Who Died in War Are ‘Losers’ and ‘Suckers’ … multiple sources tell The Atlantic the president has repeatedly disparaged the intelligence of service members, and asked that wounded veterans be kept out of military parades.”

Want to know more about his attitude toward the military?  Check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9Fkwcorb1I&ab_channel=MeidasTouch&fbclid=IwAR2C2lZxuynItNGxOy4O4fN-bO4gLNluBj1nGSEFJsUhd3F7BHsmNN1C3BM

And still there are people who chant TWELVE MORE YEARS whenever he waves his arms.

But that’s enough about politics.

~~~

I remember seeing a word-for-the-day not too long ago which means seeing what you expect to see rather than what is actually there … but I can’t remember the word.  Then early this morning (0400) I picked up my current book to pass time until the household woke up and came across an example.  It would seem those expected to catch errors before a book goes to print (proofreaders?) failed and appproved publication.  Now I can’t unsee it.  

Sort of like the arrow on the side of FedEx trucks.

~~~

While continuing with the sorting for my upcoming life change, I found some fiber which friends brought to me from New Zealand a few years ago.  I am slimming down collected stuff and offered the NZ fiber to a handspinner I know.  I delivered it last saturday.  We enjoyed a sitdown, not in her pergola due to smoke, but it did include iced coffee.

There is still plenty of fiber in my stash, so I have signed up for Spin Together (the event in the past was called Spinzilla) which starts at noon on 3 October and lasts a full week.  Spinners from all over the world spin together and then compare results.  I will spend the week before drafting fiber so it will be ready to go.  

I usually do well, but there are always professional spinners and those who spin bulky who finish with more yardage than me.  I know I won’t win any categories.  I just enjoy the challenge to beat my last year’s amount.  I have some merino-silk in shades of purple which I will probably use.  I enjoy spinning the merino-silk mix of fibers and am thinking of then knitting a lightweight halberd to wear over black turtlenecks … to show off. 

Or maybe a fancy shawl, also to put over black turtlenecks and show off.

~~~ 

Some time ago Mark noted the number of East Indian truck drivers passing through our area and said someone really needed to start an appropriate restaurant at the south Weed Truck stop … but we don’t have the money to do anything like that.  Then a few days ago I found out that someone had done it, just not at south Weed.  

There is a new truck stop north of Yreka where Punjabi style food is available … all the good stuff … tandoor, biryani, tikka masala … so we went out to dinner (outdoor seating with no shade) last monday.  

What a bust !!!

The set-up for ordering is confusing.  You go one place to order, then you have to go to a completely different part of the truck stop to pay for your order, then back to the order window to show your proof of purchase to the girl before they will even begin preparation.  The food is delivered take-out style (in plastic cartons and paper bags) even if you’re eating there.  And the entire process takes what seems like an inordinately extended time.

To top off the entire experience, the food wasn’t that good.  Mark serves better and tastier meals when he chooses to cook East Indian.  

I had the chicken vindaloo and I actually did finally find two small pieces of chicken in the tub … but no potatoes.  There was lots of sauce and I could actually taste a couple of spices.  As a finishing touch, the rice was dry.

Feeding four of us cost $60+.  Once in a while that wouldn’t be a problem IF the service and food was any good.

This experience is now filed under “Been there.  Done that.  Don’t need to do it again.

 ~~~

I’ve been watching“The Queen” on Netflix (my granddaughter has graciously shared her membership with me).

At approximately 47 minutes into “the Coup” (season 3-episode 5), during a conversation between Princess Alice of Greece and Belgium and Lord Mountbatten (Battenberg siblings), Princess Alice says that when she turned 70 she realized she was no longer a participant but had become a spectator.  In her evaluation, age becomes just a matter of waiting and not getting in the way.

I got through the 70s and 80s okay.  I am now into the 90s.

~~~

Seems Tahoe is having trouble with acculturated bears becoming grocery shoppers.  Fortunately (at least I think it is fortunate) our bears haven’t found the local Grocery Outlet yet.   What they have found is a door to our barn, learned how to open it, also learned how to release bungee cords, and that they like dog food.

That was last wednesday night.  Early friday morning I heard dogs barking followed by gunshots off to the east.  It’s the time of year bears start preparing for hibernation.  I wonder how climate change will affect that.

~~~

Climate change has made a change in calving.  On our trip to Yreka I saw that this year’s fall calving is happening early.  Usual time is early November.  

There seem to be more than the usual number of calves and they are new, not yearlings.  I know they are new because they are small. One calf I saw was on the ground being nosed by its mother and the placenta hadn’t been cleared up so the calf was only minutes old.

~~~

I’ve spoken in the past about water issues in Siskiyou County.  The latest front in that war is northeast of us in an area called Big Springs.  It is dry (in spite of the area name), flat, desertlike area which has been invaded (no one seems sure who actually owns the property) by entrepreneurs from southeast Asia who are in the pot growing business.  

In the past, it has been sparsely populated due to the dryness.  It is now home to a “growing” industry.  The Sheriff says it is being done illegally and periodically conducts raids.

The big problem is not so much the growing or who owns the land … it is water.  Marijuana requires a lot of water.  So some enterprising landowners (mostly absentee), whose land holds rights to both surface and sub-surface water, are selling water by the thousands of gallons per truckload to the growers and local wells are going dry … including the well which is the source of water for the local firefighters.  To top it off, the sales are for cash which means there is nothing to report on income tax forms.  And since the rights holders are owners of large “ranches” and therefore “important”, the SSWD (the local Watermaster) is nowhere to be seen.

People are getting riled.  

The 21st century Siskiyou County water war would appear to have begun.

~~~

I was recently listening to a summer concert by the Vienna Philharmonic and heard a truth attributed to Pushkin.  It stuck with me in this time of transition as I watch birch leaves shimmer and listen to bird song and remember how my name sounded when George said it …

… memories too painful to remember but too precious to forget.

So … ‘til next week …

2 September …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 (day 170 of the California lockdown) …

Finally, days without smoke.  I plan to enjoy it while I can since it is still fire season.  A small fire was reported yesterday afternoon on the other side of the Mountain, near McCloud.  Fortunately, everyone in this area is hyper aware and it was doused quickly.

~~~

The sun has moved far enough south and the school schedule is such that I don’t need to be awake until after 0600.  It feels a bit strange.  For so many years George was up at 0500 and I went downstairs at 0530.  Now sunday is the early day.  With outdoor communion at 0830, the family is out the door by 0700 to make sure the internet equipment is ready and whichever member of the family is preaching or reading or whatever is also ready. 

The chickens have settled into the routine since it isn’t light enough to let them out until 0700.

Another month and the chickens will be even later.

~~~

School has started for Paul (and sort of for me).  He had a chance to learn German. Kamille, Mark (who is already versant in German and serves as reinforcement for me), and I chose to join him.  It is a simple program called DuoLingo.  It is both written and oral. 

I’ve been on the masculine/feminine conundrum for four days.  Why is woman feminine but girl is masculine?  And I’m having stoppage with using the definite article the properly.

Maybe the key is for me to listen more and read less … and learn to spell later.

I’m not doing well so far.  But I will keep trying.

~~~

Saturday morning, as I read headlines, I saw the one about Eldon Musk’s pig with the chip in its brain linking it to a machine and WHAM … a possible future hit me.  I know a lot of folks are thinking “Wow, I’ll be able to control all my machines, appliances, etc. just by thinking.”

Not me … I read a lot of future fiction … and I think.  So this is a bit frightening.  Why?  Think BORG.

~~~

 My current spinning project is some Merino (blue, white, and black called “Midnight Express”) and some Mulberry silk (shades of blue with white called “Clear Skies”).  Plans are to make a 3-ply for some kind of shawl or shoulder shrug.  

The mulberry is interesting spinning.  It is very smooth and rather short fibered.  Concentration is needed.  When I sit down to spin, I put on music in order to sequester myself.  And regardless of genre, nothing with words!  Words distract because I find myself concentrating on them in order to sing along and as a result I lose touch with the fiber. 

Oh well …

~~~

 I’ve begun to do some dinners again.  I decided to try again by preparing smaller portions and, if I make something which isn’t a hit, there is less discard for the chickens. Also, a new taste just might be accepted.

I go out on wednesdays and fridays so dinner on thursdays and saturdays are mine.  Wild caught salmon is on sale today so tomorrow will be something from the sea.  Simmered in lemon-dill with roasted parmesan-garlic new potatoes, whatever vegetable is available, a small salad with cheese, and a berry-topped sponge cake?

~~~

 In preparing for my move next year, I am discovering things of value (memory to me) to which the children are indifferent.  So … flatware.  Most of what I am finding from my two grandmothers is silverplate.  Neither of them were wealthy enough to have sterling.  

Most of what I am finding is 1847 Rogers or Gorham patterns such as Chantilly – Pattern 95 (1895), Assyrian, initial L (1886), Vintage (1904), and Georgian (1912).   Next step will be sorting and seeing how many of which pieces in each I have and seeing what an antique shop will pay.  

The sterling service for twelve I bought  just before I married (for about $200 at $10 a month) has been promised to my granddaughter.  The rest is old and tarnished and of no value to anyone else other than Grandma Tyler’s grape patterned service for two which I plan to take with me.

~~~

Today is going to be a busy day which I will end watching episodes of “the Queen” on Netflix.  Elizabeth R II and I grew up parallel and I probably could be called a fan.

As I finish writing for now, I’ll turn to a quote from Laurie R. King

“The hand of bone and sinew and flesh achieves its immortality in taking up a pen.”

So … ‘til next week …