Musings …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Last saturday the first item I saw on the morning news feed was that California is asking Australia for firefighters.   I looked at a map and found the entire three quarters of the state south of us, as well as the two counties east of us, would appear to be on fire.  

And yesterday a headline read “California blazes have scorched more than 1.5 million acres and killed 6 people.” 

There was a reach-out to Mark seeking any kind of help available but he has none to send … of those on the roster one is ill, one unable to commit to a three week assignment due to being in Fire Academy (he can respond here but can’t miss otherwise), another is unable to sign on for three weeks (the minimum contract time) due to family concerns, one does not have a license to drive the big trucks, and Mark (in addition to being the local Fire Chief) has his church to look after as well as being responsible for homeschooling Paul.  One task the landowners’ association will have to take on in the coming days is emphasizing the need for increased fire coverage in our area and that means more locals have to get involved.

Mark has been working diligently to get our home acreage cleared as much as possible.  When you live in a forest (which has grown up over the last forty years) that is a continuing task.  Fortunately we have a good well and the immediate area around the house is being kept watered.

One thing about these fires which I can’t understand is that the wine country in the center of the state (Napa-Sonoma just north of San Francisco) has burned over at least three times in the last four  years.  What is there left to burn?

~~~

Last week I mentioned the article in the Smithsonisn about travel in the Edo Era in Japan.   The author spent time retracing the routes and making comparisons.  His observations included vivid impressions of bath and toilet facilities, bedding, paving or lack thereof, and available food … (acceptable and/or exciting vs repulsive including snake wine, fermented octopus in vinegar, boiled horse intestines in miso, and fresh bear liver).  I’m not sure I would have made a good traveler in those days … at least not a well-fed one.

However, I was caught by the end observation of an Edo Road traveler from back then who noted …

“The moon and sun are eternal travelers.  Even the years wander on.  Every day is a journey and the journey itself is home.”

~~~

Another death …

In the past, George and I “manned” a fire lookout on top of Paradise Craggy overlooking the Anderson Grade between California and Oregon (its unique claim to fame used to be that the outhouse was cantilevered on 4x4s out over a 250’ straight down drop … it has, since our time, been re-engineered to be more secure with angle bracing and solid flooring rather than spaced planking.  

Every spring the USFS and CalFire would hold a training session for those of us signed up to do lookout duty and we got to know a lot of the regulars.  One was Nancy Hood who (in 2015) had been a USFS lookout for well over 50 years, mostly at the Lake Mountain Lookout in the Six Rivers district.

Now news that the final call has gone out for another of the old-timers … Joel Smith, of the Siskiyou Bear Lookout just across the Oregon border in the Shasta-Trinity Forest, with whom George used to chat when fire danger was low.

“Status 3. Time to come home.”

~~~

Last thursday I received an unexpected gift from Mark.  

Some time ago, I was doing family history research into Professor John Henry (Johannes Henrich) Kurzenknabe, one of my husband’s maternal great-grandfathers.  He was born in Germany in 1840, immigrated to the US when he was 15 bringing with him only the barest necessities and a violin, fathered 15 children (George’s grandmother was #8), and died in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in 1927.

As part of that research I found a collection of hymns he had composed while serving with the Salem Reformed Church in Harrisburg.  I gathered them together into a book which I added to my genealogical shelf where Mark found them.  He took the collection to his church and showed it to their organist who proceeded to start to play after figuring out that one was in an unusual time (like Dave Brubeck’s work).

Mark recorded a selection on his phone and brought it to share with me … a real gift.

I look forward to hearing more.

~~~

Our problem concerning the water, which ran across our land for over forty years providing us with electricity and a full water tank for firefighting and which was arbitrarily cutoff a couple of years ago, is reaching an end.  The  result is not what I had hoped but is consistent with today’s world and holds trouble for most of the holders of smaller water rights in Siskiyou County, particularly those who use hydro for alternative energy generation.

It has been found that 1. our water rights apply only during the wet season (November to March which makes no sense since our adjudicated rights are for irrigation); 2. that our low number rights (#12 on our section of the Shasta River) are harmful to higher number holders downstream (#s in the 20s) so our water will be withheld at the discretion of the Deputy Watermaster; and 3. that non-consumptive power generation is not allowed on our land regardless of how long it had been in use approved by whichever or however many government agencies. 

Our attorney says we have a strong case for a court challenge, just maybe not a SURE case in Siskiyou County where the downstream users are mostly historical family ranches and County agencies and officials (including elected judges) are also often members of historical families.  

And at fee rates for good attorneys, we can’t afford a court case.  

So … that is one more reason to think about leaving this land since the things of life which brought George and me here, and sustained us all those years, are disappearing.  After all, it is impossible to leave something which has already left you.

I do find pockets which are mostly the same, and I cherish them, but there are fewer and fewer of them every month.  The people, places, and events which do remain become more and more precious as memories.

~~~  

Two friends are having cataract surgeries in the next month.  I am grateful that mine have been done and that I am still strong and healthy enough to provide support for others.  

All the radio club events were cancelled this year.  But my mind and memory remain clear enough to put notes and information from past years in order so that whomever takes over as event coordinator will have a head start.

The importance of the food sharing outreach in this county is more important than ever and my volunteer time is appreciated.

The trees and meadow flora are as beautiful as ever as the seasons change.

Even as my life changes … still I am blessed.  

Forgive my nostalgia for both the past and the future.

~~~

I had gotten a bit tired of the words wasted (at least in my opinion) by Jonathan Kellerman on the clothes (in minute detail) worn by the characters in his mystery novels.  The descriptions rarely (if ever) added anything to the plot by way of clues or explanation.  So I tend to overlook Kellerman books.  Then I came across “The Golem of Hollywood” by Jonathan AND Jesse Kellerman, father-son combo.  It’s a 550 page opus of modern murders and re-interpretation of Biblical and cultural Jewish myths/legends/tales (although those may actually be the same), a book within a book … and I was pleasantly surprised.  It was not too difficult to distinguish between the writing styles and Jonathan apparently dropped the need to tell me what people were wearing, at least for this book.  I wound up enjoying and learning … a great combination for any book.

What capped it was a lesson offered near the end of the book, by a once-and-future Rebbe (nod here to T.H.White), noting that braggadocio is most often the result of anguish and envy … a thought which helped me understand why I sometimes respond to the Tweets posted by a currently well-known individual with a sad icon rather than with an angry one.

~~~

Much of current news is such that thoughts about responsibilities are triggered.  The tasks that fall to those of us who are granted a longer life than the norm are #1. to be available without intruding and #2. to accept that the “future” is no longer ours but belongs to the young.

“One of the most important steps you can take to help calm the storm is to not allow yourself to be taken in a flurry of overwrought emotion or despair – thereby accidentally contributing to the swale and the swirl. Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world …”     Clarissa Pinkola Estes

So … ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Last week began with a bang.  

This showed up on Facebook.  

This isn’t a joke … Netflix picked Weed as one of the funniest towns in America! Celebrate with us* (from a safe distance) on Wednesday 8/12 from 7 am to 2 pm! Netflix is picking up the tab on all to-go orders! Some limitations apply. Our online ordering will be suspended during this time. Call (530) 938-2904 or stop by to place an order. 

(the us* was the HiLo restaurant I’ve told you about)  

Since we are not ones to pass up a free meal, I showed up to get in line a bit before 1100 and was turned away.  The frazzled young man from NetflixIsAJoke said there was already a line of folks who would be served by 1400 which was his cutoff time for paying.  Too bad.  Their advertising was not untruthful but was definitely misleading.  And they should have realized this is an impoverished community so a lot of folks would welcome a free meal.

Not making the cut was too bad for me and for Netflix since I would have made a great interview … I live in the HIGH Meadow above WEED.

Oh well …

 ~~~

Then came sunday … outdoor temperature before dawn was 79° with only enough breeze to move the birch leaves.  I had left a piece of chocolate on my desk (I get a craving every so often) and it was so soft that when I tried to break off a piece it wrapped itself around my finger.  Humidity was low as well.  Prime fire weather.

Even with those conditions, there is no room for complaints.  Family members in southeast Iowa and Chicago had a killer storm, Lake Michigan is sloshing back and forth like bathtub water, there were lightning caused fires in Pismo Beach, it was 130° in Death Valley, and a lot of California is on fire. 

79° with a slight breeze could be worse.

~~~

I have finally joined the ranks of those banned from a Facebook page for being “unkind”.  We have a local page where notices of fire and medical calls in the County are noted as they come over first responder pagers.  The instant a call is posted, there are women (one in particular who appears to be in constant attendance since her first response is within seconds) who instantly flood the page with comments stating “PRAYING”.  

I find it annoying to have to scroll through all the piousness before I can see what is happening in response to an emergency.  So I posted a query as to why they were ignoring Jesus’ advice reported in Matthew 6:5&6.  For that I was banned for being disruptive and unkind.

Woe is me.  Oh well …

~~~

Yesterday was another Tailgate day.  I’m in charge of signing folks in and, as usual the last couple of months, there is one man who refuses to wear a mask and is loud and pushy about it.  I mouthed back at him this month and he reported me.  The person to whom he reported me asked why he wasn’t complying with the Governor’s mandate that masks be worn in public.  His response was the usual blather stating he didn’t need to wear a mask because he was safe since we were all wearing masks and ending with he “won’t be told what to do”.  My boss responded that this was our event and if he didn’t want to cover his face he could leave.  

I wonder what next month will bring.

As I mentioned last month, the variety of produce is down.  We had GIANT zucchini this month and huge Armenian cucumbers and corn in the husks and very ripe cantaloupes.  We also had cases of peanut butter, both creamy and chunky.  I brought home six jars.  That should hold the boys for pb&j sandwiches for a time.

~~~

I finally got around to reading the latest issue of the Smithsonian magazine.  It is FULL … Bonobos and ancient roads and McCarthy’s defense of Nazi war criminals and virus hunters and ice cream trucks and fire poles.

One article was about the samurai roads which ran between Edo (now called Tokyo) and Kyoto during the “Edo Era” of the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries when Japan was closed to ALL outsiders.  Any non-Japanese who dared step outside Nagasaki, which was the only port where foreign ships were allowed until Perry’s invasion, or any Japanese who tried to leave Japan were instantly executed.  But for those allowed to travel the roads, it was an essential part of traveling to paint what you saw or to write haiku about what you experienced.  Travelers were admonished to travel light with the exception of “ink and brush for drawing and journals for poems”.

This centuries old unsigned haiku (be warned, the syllable count is incorrect in English) triggered recall of my paean to green outside my window a week or so ago …

White clouds,

Green leaves, young leaves,

For miles and miles.

~~~

Are there Sherlock fans reading this blog?  

There has been a discussion on Facebook concerning who best portrayed Holmes on tv.  I vote … Jeremy Brett !!!  

That sudden, short-lived, almost smile …

The what-did-you-just-say look … 

The ah-ha moments … 

The moves …  

The vocal inflections …  

Brett didn’t portray Holmes.  He became Holmes.  George and I watched the first showings on PBS together although George wasn’t a reading fan of Holmes.  For us there was never a question … BRETT.

As for the written word … Watson’s tellings, of course.

Then, a couple of years ago I was introduced by a friend to the Mary Russell books written by Laurie R. King, starting with The Beekeeper’s Apprentice.  Fantasy mystery … great fun.

As an aside … were you aware that Holmes’ original name in Doyle’s handwritten notes was Sherrinford Hope?

~~~

Morning chicken time is getting later and later (with a bit of morning chill).  Seems only a few days ago the hens were calling before 0500 and the sun was up by 0515.  Now the time to let them out is after 0645.  In past years the requirement was that I get up to pour breakfast juice and go out to the chickens by 0530. Now, with COVID, we time with the sun rather than the clock since Paul will be home schooling and we don’t know what Kamille’s schedule will be.  I laze in bed until after 0545 or even 0600.

One of the hens who lays brown eggs has begun laying soft or semi-soft shelled eggs (bottom round end hard with pointy top end soft).  Picking up a pliable shelled egg is a real trick.  

I think the perpetrator may be the hen with the crooked beak, the one we call Picasso.  I have been adding dried and broken egg shells to their feed for the calcium and I may need to crush the shells smaller for her.  Otherwise, she seems to have done well with her x-shaped beak. 

A lesson in succeeding in the face of challenge.

~~~

Part of getting older is sifting through all the projects you intended to finish one day.  Well … the days are dwindling down to a precious few and I’ve been sorting.

I have my Nana’s OLD! dome-topped travel trunk which I am unable to let go (it came west with her from Kansas in 1885).  It was full of unspun fiber and lots and lots of handspun yarn in a broad array of luscious colours.  My granddaughter is a knitter with a capital K.  So guess who will be receiving boxes.  Three boxes went into the mail yesterday.  There are two more boxes of some commercial 4-ply as well as more handspun waiting to be sent.  This should keep her knitting well into 2021.  

And I still have enough fiber and yarn in the cedar chest to keep me busy for months.

~~~

The constant news items about masks left me thinking about the pros and cons of mask wearing.  One con no one has mentioned (at least if they have, I failed to see it) is the inability to see smiles under masks.  I miss seeing smiles.  I guess I’ll have to learn how to identify a smile by eyes. 

I’ve begun telling folks when I’m smiling at them.  I don’t know if it does anything for them, but it does make me feel a bit better.

On that thought …

None is so rich or mighty that they can get along without smiles, and none so poor but they can be made rich by them.

Smiles cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen for it is something that is of no value until it is given away.

When you see someone too tired or depressed to give you a smile, give them one of yours.  No one needs a smile so much as he who has none to give. 

So … ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

The weather has been a bit cooler, the sun is rising later, and the angle of the sunbeams coming in the window is changing.  All because I live at 40+ degrees north latitude.  I remember growing up further south where the length of days changes very little.  As I have said before, repeatedly, I didn’t understand the Robert Louis Stevenson poem until I moved north …

In winter I get up by night and dress by golden candle light.     

In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.

Well … my candles are ready.

~~~

There is a family of sand cranes hanging out in our meadow near the driveway entrance to the property.  There is an adult pair (did you know sand cranes mate for life?) and this year’s colt (I just learned that is the name for baby cranes).

Cranes are such interesting creatures.  They are so gawky on those long stilts of legs.  Their tail feathers make a funny bustle on their rears.  They stretch waaaaaaaaay out when they fly with neck stretched in front and legs straight out behind.  And their call is raucous and rude sounding. 

All cranes are symbols of good fortune in Asia, and they are good parents.  I’ve never seen a colt (I like that name) by itself and when I’ve seen one with adults it is always between the two. 

The choice of our meadow for their summer home is a blessing.

~~~

On the other hand … there is an exciting and rather scary addition to the local indigeneous wildlife … a bear sow with triplets.  She has been seen to the east of us and captured on motion sensitive cameras in several places.  

It is nice to see wildlife doing well in spite of city incursions.  But the thought of facing a sow with three cubs …

~~~

The first of the planned “Pizza at the Fire House” evenings went well.  There were only eight folks there in addition to the presenter and the fire fighters.  But for a “community” without a center and no cohesion, that’s not bad for a starter and if each person tells one other person the way to prepare for an emergency, such as a fire, knowledge and safety will spread.

I’ve been having thoughts about better “advertising” for the next time … maybe posters featuring a picture of a large pizza with bigger lettering of the word 

⇒ P i z z a ⇐

stapled to trees all over the area?  And a postcard mailing?

Of course, we can’t have too big a gathering and still adhere to COVID regulations.

Oh well …

~~~

Lunch packing is done for this year, but there are three more “Tailgate” sessions left before winter. 

The problems created by the pandemic restrictions are affecting food production in the California Central Valley.  Restrictions show in the kind and amount of fresh produce available for the give-away sessions.  I remember last year when one month we were able to hand out full flats of sumptuous strawberries.  The best we’ve done so far this year has been bags of grapes, small boxes of blackberries, and small watermelons … and those only once.  

We have even been skimpy of zucchini.

In addition, there is more past-prime produce in what does arrive.  Fortunately, here at Cold Comfort we have chickens so I bring home boxes of scraps and over-ripe stuff and that way not all goes to waste.  As I once said in a poem … garbage out, eggs in.

I know there must be food rotting in the fields.  To the north of us the potato farmers were piling their crop in heaps and advertising “come and take as much as you want”.

~~~

I recently saw a photo of Michele Obama in which she was wearing a glittery shawl patterned of large open squares with looooonnnnnnnnnnnnng fringes on the bottom.  She was wearing it over a black outfit.  I was captivated.  

I have some basically black fiber with small flashes of glitter colour.  I wonder … if I spin it very fine, triple ply, and then crochet …

Maybe I could wear it over white, light blue, or grey.  

Maybe I’m too advanced in age for that kind of a fashion statement. 

But then … maybe I’m not.

~~~

 At my age, little joys are precious.  If these blogs seem to be getting less ebullient, it’s probably because I am no longer on the fast track.  I’m seeing things through old eyes, which have already seen a lot, and so I am not finding much to call new.

However, there is still joy.  Like last sunday morning, before sunrise, but as the light was increasing, looking out my south window toward the meadow I could see green … green … green … more shades of green than I could count.  

Not more than I could appreciate.  

Just more than I could count.  

The catalpa was light green shading toward yellow.  The birches were bluish green, their branches showing as streaks of white, with their foliage flashing in the breeze.  The lilac was pale green with just a tinge of sepia showing where the flower clusters had been.  The fir close to the house was forest green with dark shadows and light tips.  Firs further away, toward the mountains to the south where the sun hits first, were lush green and full of light.  There were dark brown spots in the pines where some of last year’s needle clusters are still hanging on.  Those spots were more noticeable because of the clear glow of this year’s green offerings.  

Adjectival descriptions are meager.  I wish you could see through my eyes.  

As was said by A. A. Milne …

How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

It’s just old age renamed “situational depression”.

So … remember to give someone a full smile every day.  They may need it more than you know, and even more than you do.

‘Til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Day 144 of the lockdown …  

There are still some who question the necessity for masks but, with a nursing background, I tend to think wearing them is a safeguard.  I don’t like it.  Never did.  Not when I was working.  Not now.  But I will continue to wear mine.

~~~

The weather here has remained warm, on the verge of hot, and dry with humidity in the teens.  Fortunately, the fires are around us and in the lower part of the state.  A watering schedule has been set up around the house and most of the clearing has been done.  The trees, both deciduous and evergreen, are shades of green. And the air is clear now that the wind has changed direction.

There is a place very close which is being rented out as a campsite (without permits so far … but that’s a different tale) which was noted to have a campfire last week.  A bit scary, but the campers were very accommodating when asked to be aware of the danger to the area and put out the fire.

Makes me wonder if the owner is aware of his liability (he lives 5 hours away and is supposed to be “overseeing” campers), which in this weather could run into the millions were a fire to get out of hand.

Oh well …

~~~

Only one more morning (tomorrow) of preparing lunches for south county kids in need.  And still no concrete decision about whether or not schools will open.  

Some loud opinions being voiced about kids NEEDING to be together made me think about the years of radio schooling in the Australian Outback.  Those children would sometimes go months without seeing anyone other than their immediate family and the hired help on the station.  I never heard that they suffered from lack of a good education, and they seem to have matured into an adult society much like other adult societies.  

Of course, because those stations were pretty much self-sufficient, those children didn’t go hungry.  So maybe we need to concentrate on seeing that children don’t go hungry, have access to communication, and as a result education will follow.

Call me a dreamer, but wouldn’t it be nice if that were part of the new world following this pandemic?

~~~

Tomorrow is the first of the planned “Pizza at the Fire House” evenings.  There are two goals …

1. To make contact between more of the locals and the fire fighting personnel, and

2. To distribute information about planning for a fire and possible evacuation. 

The fun comes with planning with COVID restrictions in mind. Fortunately, weather is not a problem so a lot of what is planned can be set up outdoors (and being the first event of this kind makes all planning new).  Letting folks see the equipment, meet the firefighters, listen to the emergency planning spiel, and eat pizza can all be set up spaced in and around the firehouse.  We aren’t expecting a lot of people, since this is a first, which means there are no rules.  We’ll see how it goes and replan for the next time which is scheduled for the first week in September.

~~~

Had an interesting thing happen a couple of weeks ago.  One day, out of the blue, more than two-thirds of my Facebook “friends” were unfriended, but not by me.  I am gradually getting them back, but it was a jolt.  

I’ve seen posts from others who had the same experience.  Seems normal is no longer normal in a lot of places.  Guess I’ll just check my “friends” list occasionally.

~~~

The family spent last monday at Crater Lake.  I remember years ago when George and I went the first time.  It was late summer and we were the only ones there.  That is happening more now with restrictions in place.  There were controlled one direction lines in place for the information centers and the prime outlooks.

It seemed to have been an enjoyable day.  Mark reminisced.  Kamille saw more of the west.  Paul wrote and drew pictures of the area (the caldera, Wizard Island, and the Phantom Ship).  He even had a conversation with one of the tourist-wise chipmunks.  

~~~

With all the finger-pointing going around, my thoughts recently  turned to “blame” … what is it? why do we feel it is necessary? who is our favorite target? why them? does it really make us feel better?  more secure? stronger? less identifiable? even maybe blameless? 

And conversely … what if we always accept the blame?

Sometimes pondering can be heavy.

To criticize ourselves when we make mistakes is not useful. Learn from mistakes. The definition of a spiritual person is someone who makes 30-50 mistakes each day and talks to the Creator after each one to see what to do next time. 

Today let me see my mistakes as a positive process. Let me learn the aha’s of life.  Awaken my awareness so I can see the learning designed for my life.

         … Adapted from the Pawnee

So … ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

A couple hours late. Sorry. Annual check-up.

We had been having rather hot weather which broke with a vengeance last wednesday evening.  It began getting dark a little after 4. By 5:30 the rain had started and we were getting pounded.  The rain burst was so heavy I wasn’t able to see past the water sheeting on the front windows and there was a small river running down the driveway.  Lightning and thunder. 

It was the kind of storm George and I used to enjoy … so I enjoyed.

It had come in from the west, over Mt Eddy, which was a bit unusual.  Most of our storms come up the canyon from the south or down through Shasta Valley from the north.  Regardless of direction, the wet was welcome.

The lightning did start some fires, but mostly off to the east and southeast in the Modoc and Lassen areas.  I had hoped it would help with the fires, but no such luck.  Our fire zone is short staffed since several of our fighters are over on the Hog and Gold fires.  We are being covered by CalFire stations and southern Oregon.

The weather got warm again, but not as hot as north or south of  us, and the thunder storms were going around us.  Interesting …

For anyone who is interested in our fire situation, the local fire zone has a website … http://hmm4200.org/

~~~

The phenomenon of time speeding up as I age has hit an up-swing.  At least it feels as if it is gaining speed.  Days are getting shorter … quickly.  The sun isn’t coming in my east window until 0700 or later.  On the other end of the day, I go out to close in the chickens before 7:45 (1945).

And speaking of chickens … we lost one of the whites last week so we are down to 17 hens now.  No indication of what happened … not an animal.  She just gave up the ghost.

~~~

Mark has been thinning trees to the south and I can once again see into the meadow.  It is part of the mandatory clearing around residences required by the state.  The view to the south now is more open but holds all the variety I’ve seen for so long … fir, pine, birch, catalpa, cherry, maple, cedar, fern, meadow grass, yarrow, mullein, …

My head is full of photos.

~~~

Still no decision about whether or not the schools here will open or how.  Kamille may be back to work however.  She had been doing the morning and afternoon childcare duty in addition to her TA work and special tutoring, and parents will be having to go to work as usual.  

Of course, Mark’s work as Fire Chief is a 24 hour thing this time of year.  He drives a water tender (which requires a special license) and so takes his turn at the 24 hour shifts.  He was called out last evening, but the fire was controlled and his shift was shortened. 

And Tyler’s work with the animal shelter continues regardless.

However, my volunteer commitments are slowing down.  

All the bicycle and running summer events have been cancelled, so no amateur radio involvement this year.  And I may just call this the end of my volunteer radio communication days.  It isn’t as much fun as it was when George and I worked together.

Only this week and next remain for packing the free summer lunches for south county children and only three more months of the Tailgate produce events before the growing season ends in the central valley. That will leave only the commodities distributions and the landowners’ association activity.  

There will be lots of time for reading, thinning out forty years’ accumulation of stuff (remember I’m a Depression kid and saved everything … you never know when you’ll need “it”), spinning (and resisting the lovely fiber going on sale due to COVID lockdowns since my current stash fills the cedar chest), and who knows what else.

~~~

Reading? … still going strong.  Recently finished another of the Arapaho rez mysteries and am reading a fictionalized account of a passenger on the underground railroad.  And on to a new Steve Berry titled “the Malta Exchange”.  I really like reading novels by Berry and Rollins.  Their action moves fast.  But the big draw is the research they appear to do (or else they have fantastic research crews) because their story lines are built around history, up-to-date technology, and worldwide politics.  Currently, I am learning a lot about the Hospitallers and the Roman Church, both past and current.  It will be entertaining to see what those two authors do with COVID.

Current video watching is a Brit series, as usual.  The Brits and the Aussies do good tv.  However, I do have to say those Brits appear to be a randy sort … spending a lot of time snogging and shagging, especially in suburbia.

~~~

Last friday was my oldest son’s sixty-fourth birthday anniversary.  I remember that birth day clearly.  It was mid-summer and hot.  I was staying at my folks’ place since medical care there was what we could afford (my mother was the day nurse in the newborn nursery).  I was afraid George wouldn’t get to us (the baby and me) in time since he had to keep working and it was a three hour drive to get to Hemet.  But he made it with time to spare.  

It was all a Blessing.  My first born continues to be a blessing. He keeps me supplied with hand-poured Prayer candles and the memories are good.

~~~

It seems to me this blog, which used to be far-ranging, has gotten rather insular … turned inward by age, COVID, and now the turn in seasons.  We are nearing 140 days into the COVID lockdown here in California.  

I wouldn’t say I’m doing “fine”, but I am doing “okay”. 

How about you?

~~~

Two communications last week … one genealogical, one familial … another death … my generation continues to disappear.  

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. 

Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”           

… Louise Erdrich 

I’ve decided to follow the advice recently posted by Dan Rather.  He said to call someone every day.  I have a list of family and friends, and I’ve started.  If you are a reader and would like to be included, let me know.  I’ll put you on the list.

So … ‘til next week … 

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Heat … it can be fatal.

Yesterday it got me.  I went out early to pack the lunches for kids (118 this time).  No problem.  Warm, but not unusual for summer here.  

By 0900 finished there and met friends in the park with apple fritters, coffee, masks and distancing.  Warm, but still no problem.

By 1030 I was at the monthly Tailgate produce giveaway to do my volunteer “check-in” thing.  Had shade and water.  Sign-ins went well.  Only four people refusing to wear masks.  I took names and locations so if we have a cell develop and need to do tracking, we can start with them.  Also had one rather adamantly vocal objection to the census (I had a census worker with me handing out late filing advice).

Produce was in boxes so there was little or no interaction between volunteers and recipients and had one rather loud complaint about having to tote a box to her car and not being able to choose what produce she wanted.

There were plenty of cantaloupes however.

By time to go home (1300), temp was in the high 90s.

Got home and that was it !!!

Now for the backstory …

Way back in 1951, George and I made a trip to New Mexico to visit Carlsbad Caverns (there’s another story there, but it will wait for another time).  We were going across the bottom of the states since we were living in southern California then. 

Crossing the desert into the southwest corner of Arizona was HOT.  I was riding with my feet out the window (you could do that in those days … no seat belts).

We stopped in Gila Bend for gasoline, I got out to go to the toilet and wash my face which was salt crusted … and passed out as I opened the door to return to the car (our beautiful, white, Chebbie coupe).  The next thing I remember is being led to the house of the station owner across the highway, put on his living room couch with a wet cloth over my face, and being forced to drink tepid, salted water.

Seems I had a heat stroke.

I never learned the name of those lifesaving folks, but I’ll never forget them.

And ever since then, I’ve been very sensitive to high temperature.  It is mostly controlled by having learned what to do and how to act.  In point of fact (to quote Mrs. Chelm), it has been years since I bonked out.

However, yesterday something went wrong.  By the time I got home and got the groceries unloaded (that may have been the final straw), I was done for.  I was red in the face and covered with salty sweat.

I spent the rest of the day and all night on my bed.

But I’m much better now. Even managed to do up yesterday’s dishes.

Still when you step outdoors and 70 degrees feels cool, you know you’re having a heat wave.

Today all I have to do is go to the library, pick up Tyler’s spinning wheel from the friend who restored it, and do a wee bit of shopping (orange juice and salad greens).  Won’t be out of the air-conditioned car very much.

~~~

The far north central part of California is on fire.  Fortunately, they are all between 60 and 100 miles away.  Some evacuations are in effect, but none near us.

The Badger fire (the one Mark was on) is on its way to being out.  A neighbor (RN) left to work on the Hog near Susanville yesterday (the road between here and Reno has been closed for several days by that fire).  One of the student live-ins from our station leaves this morning for the Hog. He had said he was interested in becoming a wildland fire fighter and will have a good resume when this season is over.

Sunrise this morning was deep red orange from the Hog smoke and there were two small fires in Montague east of Yreka north of us.  Both quickly contained.

I do believe we are in fire season.  Maybe the new seasons for California are rain and boggy roads followed by drier, anxiety-prone, pre-fire followed by a-bit-scared evacuation prep followed by FIRE SEASON followed by where’s-the-rain? followed by mop-up followed by here-comes-the-rain and flooding followed by take-a-breath it’s snowing followed by melt and boggy roads and …

Oh well …

~~~

Still no decision about how, or even if, local schools will open next month.  Current home plan is for Paul to go to a classroom once or twice a week and home school the rest of the time.  But we’ll see.

~~~

Now seems to be the time for Pantheists to remember and model behavior for the lesson that …

In this universe, all activities, events, and entities are related. Everything in the universe has value and instructs us in some aspect of life. Everything is alive and is making choices that determine the future, so the world is constantly creating itself.

We are all connected to all things.  Whenever we harm anything, it causes harm to ourselves. If we destroy the air, then we will be affected by what we breathe. If we poison the Earth, we poison ourselves. We must respect our Mother Earth and She will respect us in return. 

We must open our eyes.

With the wisdom and time for reflection that old age provides, we may discover unsuspected relationships.

Allow me to honor and respect the things You, the Creator, have made. Let me see the beauty of all things. 

(adapted from STANDING ROCK SIOUX  –  Vine Deloria, Jr)

So … stay safe … ‘til next week (and even beyond) … 

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

This morning there was an interesting non-surprise …

Tyler’s car (an open-air jeep) had been visited in the past by a bear who had been inside, sampling a sip of lemonade left in a cup.  It was a small bear, identified by a paw print left in the dust on the back seat (I told you it was an open-air jeep and we live on dirt roads). 

A week or so ago a neighbor had a small to medium print in their driveway.

This morning, as he was coming up to the house from his apartment in the old barn, Tyler’s dogs froze and one sort of snorted.  Tyler looked to the left and there was a small (for bears) brown bear just a few yards away.  The bear looked at the dogs, shook its head, and took off headed west toward me at the chicken house.  I guess I was in the hen house, watering the chickens and filling their pellet dispenser, because I didn’t see any of that.

Seeing a bear was a non-surprise because we live in a WUI area (Wildland Urban Interface) where we cohabit with the indigeneous animals. The only surprise element was because I had left a sled with a bag of chicken pellets sitting out in the path to the chicken house.  I had been too pooped to haul it the rest of the way last evening and was surprised this morning the bear hadn’t found it.  

The encounter would indicate the bear’s regular path is from the east open meadow, across our living area, to the Durney Creek area and the houses on Elderberry.  

That reminded me of the morning I stepped out the back door to meet a bear coming out of the woodshed, the door to which had come open with wind (since there were no claw marks to indicate the bear had opened it nor anything in there to attract a bear).  We were both a bit surprised at such a close encounter (about a yard) so I stood still and the bear, after glancing at me, walked rapidly away through the backyard.

As long as the local wildlife leaves the chickens alone, we have no problem.

~~~

Last friday my primary care provider held drive-thru COVID testing.  The whole family went through.  Have you done it yet?  What an experience.  I think that swab reached all the way, past the sinus, into my left frontal lobe.  And to think that, as long as I’m working with food sharing, I should do this every fourteen days to make sure I’m not infecting others …

Oh well …

~~~

Only five more weeks of packing lunches.  As I have said before, the older I get the faster the days go by.  Now it has been less than a month since the equinox and the morning sun is already far enough south to be rising over the Mountain.  

It seems it was only a day or so ago that I was watching the sun move slowly north (and yes, I know that isn’t the scientific explanation, but it is my perception) and shining in my window earlier and earlier each morning.  It was nearly 0620 before that happened this morning.  

Thinking of packing lunches … we still have no idea what the coming school year will be like.  Some Oregon schools are offering the choice to attend in-person or attend on-line.  The problem in making the choice for Paul would be more social than academic.  There is little or no problem with teaching him at home.  Learning to play well with others is a bit of trouble when access to “others” is severely limited.  If you live rural, the neighbor kids can be more than walking distance away.  

And Kamille works (worked?) for the school district, so this situation is impacting the family that way.

I predict 2020 will be seen as a fulcrum.  What and how widespread the changes in everyday life will be is anybody’s guess.  And when I add my age to that equation …

But enough gloom and doom …

~~~

Paul’s swimming is in full swing.  He did well enough last summer as a 7-year-old that this year he is a member of the beginners’ swim team and no longer just a wannabe.  In spite of general lockdown, they meet two days a week in small groups to practice with each swimmer being carefully restricted to their own lane.

~~~

The issue with the reservoir is still simmering.  I know it isn’t good to wish harm or bad luck onto others, but I can’t help hoping karma is in operation.  The land developers who subdivided this area sure left a big mess for those of us who bought here.  They made promises with fingers crossed, failed to provide for an owners’ association with power to oversee, left road access questions unresolved, hedged on the requirement to prove adequate sanitation and well sites, and that’s just the foam on the top.  Those of us who bought early had little or no problem with the uncontrolled aspect of the area.  We bought with the idea of self-sufficiency and cooperation.  It worked for a lot of years.  Then folks who were used to city amenities and had a sense of privilege began arriving and …

But hind sight etc. and here we are.  I had trusted George’s and my little haven would last and both of us would die here, leaving a good place for the family.  

Bobbie Burns was right about the best laid plans …

Oh well …

~~~

My current “TV” viewing is a series out of New Zealand.  The scenery is interesting as are the culture references.  The main character is aged about 50 and he keeps surprising his younger cohorts with words like “collywobbles” and “canoodling”.  

Fun …

An aside is the length of each episode … between 90 and 100 minutes each.  Seems strange to remember that when I was young, the running time of movies was a mere 60 to 70 minutes and saturday at the movies meant two full length features.

Speaking of movies … 

Have you learned yet that my mind runs wild with off-the-wall connections which lead me on convoluted paths off through the back 40?  So … 

Speaking of movies, I was recently involved in a challenge to cite a single line of dialogue which was a giveaway to the movie such as “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” or “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” or “Round up the usual suspects.” or “Come on, babe, why don’t we paint the town?” or “Are you crazy?  The fall will probably kill us.”

But somehow no one thought to add “Badges?  We don’ need no stinkin’ badges.”

~~~

Finally, for this week …  

I find I am grateful for each morning … 

Regardless …

 “Each soul must meet the morning sun, the sweet earth, and the great silence alone.”

     –Charles Alexander Eastman, OHIYESA SANTEE SIOUX 

So …  ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Well … the catalpa is finally in bloom, but mainly in its very top.  The lower branches are fully leafed with few blossoms.  

Strange …

~~~

Last week I went to what was advertised as a class in using herbs for healing, a subject in which I have been interested for quite some time.  It was held at the local Seventh Day Adventist church.  I should have known better.  

No fault of the Adventists, but I should have anticipated the missionary aspect.  

Still, during the rather short herb presentation, I did learn more about cayenne.  I was unaware of its ability to blister skin.  It seems like a no-brainer now that I know.  Guess I just never thought of it.  When I was a kid, my mother used to use a “mustard” plaster on my chest when I got bronchitis and she always put some kind of oil on my skin before putting the plaster in place.  Now I know why.  

The speaker told of an experience he had when flying intercontinental … his feet got cold so he powdered them with some cayenne he had with him.  Ten minutes went by without feeling any heat, so he added more.  Ten more minutes he did it again.  And again … several more times until he felt warmer.  When they landed an hour or so later, he put on his socks noticing his feet looked a bit red, stood up, and nearly fell over with the pain.  The next morning his feet were blistered.  

Lesson?  It takes time for the heat to be felt so be patient. 

Too much of something might not be a good thing, right?

~~~

Spent the 4th very laidback.  The day started out clear, but clouded by mid-afternoon.  All was quiet until a little after nine (I was already in bed) when the sounds from the fireworks shows could be heard.  They didn’t last long.  And no fires started.

I wonder if celebrations of the 4th will stay the same as before or begin to resemble this year’s style?

~~~

Another death … 

Years ago, George and I had dinner partners named Elaine and Don Wirth.  They lived about half a mile south of us as the crow flies, about two miles via the road.  We had dinner together every two weeks, one time over there … the other here.  

Elaine and I giggled together, did Weight Watchers together, took walks together, shared recipes, you name it … we did it.  And we really were Mutt and Jeff.  She was short and pudgy.  I was tall and, even at my fattest, wasn’t pudgy. 

Don and George were so far into model trains that they spent evenings going to various model clubs, a lot of time building layouts, watching train videos, comparing the “steals” they found at shows and sales …  

The day after Thanksgiving was always a big one.  That’s the day all the model train nuts, of all gauges, in central far northern California and inland southwestern Oregon get together at the Armory in Medford to talk, sell, buy, whatever. The four of us always went and, after wearing out all possibilities at the expo, we would go to McGrath’s Fish House for fish and chips.  

He was a Brit who, as a child, had been evacuated from London during the Blitz to a farm in Cornwall.   She was a Canuck farmer’s daughter from north of Toronto, eh.

Back in the early 2000s they moved to North Carolina to be closer to their daughter.  We never saw them again, but didn’t lose contact.

Don had myasthenia gravis.  He had to have his eyelids removed and caring for him was getting to be a full time thing.  They were together back there for only six years before Elaine died of bladder cancer.  We still kept in touch with Don via email (I learned to use the largest font available so Don could read it).  A bit over a year ago, he stopped writing, but was still reading the blog.  The last time I had a sign that he was reading the blog, or having it read to him, was three or four months ago.

Don died the day after George’s sister did … 30 June.  

~~~

Time for doing the lunch packing is getting short.  I was reminded yesterday there are only five more weeks.  My how time flies as you get older.  

The number of lunches is now up to 129/day.  The local boys’ and girls’ club opened as did one of the local parks’ play group.  Some interesting rules … no adults allowed on those sites other than those working with the kids.

Did I tell you a local chef is planning and overseeing the lunch program this year?  Last week on the days I worked we served a taco salad one day and a tortellini salad the other, both complete with fruit and cheeses.  The kids are eating well.

I always end up with an aching lower back (counter heights are made for people shorter than six foot), but I also end up feeling useful.  And I get to bring home scraps for the chickens.

Today is library day, so I’m looking forward to a new book or two.  Maybe a gaslight era mystery.

~~~

The neighborhood brouhaha is still in full swing.  Interesting times …

It’s said that when we least deserve love is when we most need it.   If, in response, I destroy you, I destroy myself.  If I honor you, I honor myself.

–Hunbatz Men, MAYAN

So …  ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Another death in the family (not COVID).  George’s younger sister died monday last.  There are now only two of us left in that generation.

~~~

Weather has been doing the “No such thing as climate change?  Hold my beer.” 

Here it is, not even a full two weeks past the equinox, and last saturday it was in the high 80s (over 100 in Redding) … slept with only a sheet.  Sunday was a high of  62 with a wind chill of 50 from the north northwest strong enough to sway evergreens with trunks 24”+ thick … comforter needed for sleep. Last night in the 40s … comforter.

~~~

Problems and blessings based on/at the reservoir have come around again.  The visual blessings are there most of the time.  The problems are also there most of the time and erupt every few years.  They have gotten worse over the last few years and are now at the critical stage.  Maybe this time a solution can be found and implemented.  

A lot of the problem has to do with the owners of the land surrounding the reservoir, the Siskiyou Land Trust, and their stated purpose for the land.  When they acquired the land the idea was it was to be a wildlife sanctuary.  But they allowed it to be used as a recreational area and that has led to trespass on private roads which in turn led to parking, trash, trespass on and in the water (which does not belong with the land but to irrigation users down river), and obstruction of road passage for fire fighting equipment and others.  I plan to attend the Board meeting of the Land Trust next tuesday.  And in the meantime, we are trying to decide how we will handle the situation over this coming “holiday” weekend and I am doing a lot of research concerning rights of access, easements, and all that stuff.  

One of the visual blessings was mine last week when on the two early mornings as I drove out (I leave the house a bit after 0600 on tuesday and thursday) the reservoir had a top dressing of mist.  That always happens when there is water in the reservoir and the temperature difference between the water and the air is just right,  I’ve written about it before.  It is always beautiful.     

Another blessing has been the continued presence of the Canada geese and their fledglings.  There are a lot of them … so many that they form rather large gatherings and hold parades across meadows and roads.  More than once I’ve had to stop and wait while one of their parades crosses the road.  Sooooo … why does a goose cross the road?

~~~

Weekday mornings have been noisy lately, and not just the birds.  Folks have been busy clearing the areas around their buildings (I told you we are in a high fire probability zone) and the crews are out early chipping the piles of slash left along the roads.  Work starts about 0630 and is done by noon when the humidity drops.  I’m usually awake by 0530 (which is why I don’t answer the phone after 2000 – 8 pm), so the early morning roar isn’t a problem for me.

~~~

As I was going north to Yreka one day last week, I noticed the first cutting has been made in the alfalfa fields ( the first hint was the perfume of the fresh cuttings) and the second bloom is already showing.  Later I saw two 18-wheelers,  loaded with bales, heading south.  Due to irrigation capabilities, this looks to be a good year with possibly four, or even five, cuttings.

~~~

My most recent read was a book titled “The Old Religion”.  It is a gothic horror story (I’ve got strange tastes in reading matter, and if you too like that genre look for “Harvest Home” or “The Other” … I think they were both by Tom Tryon).   

But what I want to share is an edited excerpt from an interview the author (Martyn Waites) did recently.  

“They voted. I think it’s just dawning … that they’ve been lied to, or at least I hope it is, and all the things they’ve been promised won’t be happening.  In fact, their lives will be substantially worse than before. Normally I would say they deserve it for what they’ve done, but unfortunately they’re dragging the rest of us down too.

“ … The {lies} were believed, unfortunately. A dangerous fantasist has taken hold of a scared populace and is insisting they do something that would make them palpably worse off.  I quote Chesterton in the novel: ‘When people stop believing in something they don’t believe in nothing, they’ll believe in anything.’  That’s our country at the moment.”

He was talking about the UK and Brexit, but it sounds pretty much like another country and situation I can think of right now which is very much in the news.

~~~ 

Last week I saw an article in the New York Times about the Coney Island hot dog.  Seems it was “invented” by a man named Feltman shortly after the Civil War (1867) and he called them “Coney Island Red Hots.”  The name “Nathan’s Coney Island Hot Dogs” came later (Nathan had worked for Feldman).  Nothing was said about the original recipe (which was Mr. Feldman’s grandmother’s) being kosher but the name Feldman makes me think it must have been.  I buy only Hebrew National or Nathan’s now because they are kosher which means they are required to be unadulterated by throwaway meat bits.

Oh well …

~~~

Time now to get on with the other chores and here’s a reminder to hold onto …

Perhaps you will forget tomorrow the kind words you say today, but the recipient may cherish them over a lifetime.

Heroes are the people who do what has to be done, when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

So …  ‘til next week …

More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …

Weather has warmed up … more like late Spring and early Summer.

I had seen notes that due to the pandemic, sunrise at Stonehenge would be broadcast LIVE this year.  No crowds.  That would suit me fine.  I’d really like to experience the solstice at Stonehenge, like I’d like to experience a lot of places, but without all the people.  I know that is selfish, but with a crowd what can you actually experience other than the crowd?

So with hope, I checked out the offered site, which was supposed to be free, only to find it was not actually free.  The upfront request said it would be free as long as you provided them with functioning credit card information including the protective three number code on the back of the card.  No way …

I finally found a site with acceptable pictures which was actually free on YouTube and sat down to wait.  Sunrise at Stonehenge was a bit after 2000 (8 pm) here.  It was interesting, but overall it was a bit of a bust.  People in fluorescent vests could be seen moving around and lights of cars on the A whatever road were other signs of attendance.  But there was fog in the low area to the east and rather heavy cloud cover.  Oh well …

This morning, on the old Mid-Summer Day, the sun came in my window at 0606.  Soon I’ll notice the beginning of its trip south. 

~~~

Prepping lunches for local kids is already falling into a routine … masks, gloves, temperature check.  We aren’t preparing as many this year, due to restrictions on group size, so we are finishing earlier … taking only about 90 minutes rather than the up to 4 hours we did last year when we were making over 200 each day.

And this year a professional chef is planning the menus.  Yesterday it was soft tacos, fruit yogurt, oranges, and milk.

~~~

The radio club interaction with the bicycle event I’ve told  you about is fini.  What they requested would be violations of our federal licenses, so I told the event director “Thanks for thinking of us, but no thanks.”  All those members who took time to respond to my notice of action were in agreement.  It sounded like it would have been interesting, but not at the risk of losing my license.

Next up (unless cancelled due to health restrictions)? …  the TinMan triathlon the first sunday in September.  Turning out to be a not so busy summer.

~~~

I recently came across a phrase which would seem to explain some of the trouble I’ve been having with my computer lately.  The phrase is “frequency illusion” which is defined as seeing something when we expect to see it.  I can make a typo, re-read it several times, and still see what I thought I wrote and not the actual error.  At least now I have a name for it.

~~~

Big thing with the landowners’ association right now is the increasing trespass and parking on the private road which borders the reservoir.  It is getting worse.  Weekends are particularly bad.  I’ve been doing some of the legal research and Wow … how can anyone spend years studying the legal profession.  Gobbledy gook … sleep inducing … obscure.  Sort of like studying the Talmud.

Roads around here have been a problem from the git-go.  The developers of this subdivision made a whole slew of errors and we are trying to put them right.  The roads have been an issue ever since we moved here, but it seems to have reached the boiling point.  One contributing factor is the new Fire Chief.  He pointed out that illegal parking makes it difficult, if not impossible, for large fire fighting equipment to access areas of the Ranch.  Maybe this time we will get something done.

~~~

The world is in turmoil all around us. 

I know it will never be the same. 

The old “normal” no longer exists. 

And in the turmoil there are lessons … A Jewish folk story goes like this: 

A child regularly returns from school in tears because her peers insult and tease her daily. Her parents suggest channeling that pain by hammering one nail into her wall for every cutting remark. For a while, this helps, but one day the child is again in tears because her wall is now full and there is no more space to hammer the therapeutic nails. Her parents suggest a new course of action that will refocus the girl’s attention: any time someone says something nice, she should remove a nail. This also works for a time, but again, one day the child comes home upset — the nails are gone but her wall is full of holes.

What is the lesson? 

Many wounds, including the gaping wounds of racism, leave a mark that cannot be erased. 

So …  ‘til next week …