From last night, Heather Cox Richardson:

Those of you who follow her have seen this:  those of you who haven't, will appreciate it:

Heather Cox Richardson:

This pandemic, and the accompanying economic downturn, are a turning point. Just as Americans have done in other crises in our history, we are rediscovering that our greatest strength is not in how rich and powerful we can make a few, but rather in all of us, working together.

I point this out, because I noticed this a few days ago,  a LOT of voluntary closing of places that could cause problems later on, if not now.  A realization that if we wait for Big Government to do anything, it could be a very long wait indeed.  It occurred to me then that we were doing exactly what should be done, without asking for help that might not come for months.  We may make it, after all. 

Woodcock, starlings, and snow. All the signs of spring.

Opened the door last night after sunset, and I heard the woodcock performing his terrifying mating ritual. First time in several years that I've heard it, that determined nasal "peent peent peent" and then the wings whistling as he goes into a divebomb straight toward the ground, pulling up at the last moment.  All in the hopes of impressing the girls.  (sound familiar?)

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/American_Woodcock/id

sometimes in summer if I'm walking in the fields one will whir up almost under my feet,  scaring the daylights out of me, and if he had been still, I'd never have known he was there. 

This afternoon I went out to let the cat out, and heard the starlings in the woods behind the house.  In all the time we've been there we've seen migrations away, but never back, so this was a treat. 

Annnd in a day or two, we're supposed to get more snow. Of course we are.

This: for what it's worth...

I had a nasty feeling about this yesterday, and it looks like Im not the only one:  It's a mouth swab with a q-tip.  Nothing more invasive, and listening to this it sounds like they extracted bodily fluids or drew blood.   Notice the way he waves it away.
Which means either a) he never had it, b)he had it and tested positive, or c) the results aren't back yet. my money is on (b.  He's been way too physical with entirely too many people this past week.  (shudder)

Asked what it was like to take the test, Trump says, "Not, not uh - something I want to do everyday...you know, it's a little bit of a -- it's a little bit of -- good doctors in the White House, but it's a test. It's a test. It's a medical test. Nothing pleasant about it."

Live long enough, you learn how to do stuff

This is nothing new, I know, but it's the first time
I've ever brined chicken and baked it.  We had just
about given up on chicken, since his teeth don't work
so good no more,  but he brought home three
wonderful looking chicken breasts (the man is becoming
a shopper. Scary, lol.)  and I thought, the least I can do
is try. 
This time I brined them, and my god were they good.

why doesn't someone TELL me these things...!

He's using cents off coupons, he's reading labels, at least
if something happens to me he can buy stuff if not cook it.
I may introduce him to the magic of hard boiled eggs.

Updates

The magical mystical loom is still there, and I am learning, the hard way, what works and what doesn't.  It's been warped, and been tied up and retied at least a skillion times, one of the harnesses' leather snapped, and now I know how to fix those,  then I had to understand about 'over' and 'under' and in weaving the only 'under' is in 'understand'.  Everything else is threaded, warped, and woven "over".

We learn, but it's painful.

Spring isn't here  yet, but it thinks it is.  I went out on the porch earlier and inhaled several times, listened to the beef animals at the next farm mooing and moaning, and all the local dogs celebrating whatever it is dogs celebrate.  This kind of weather makes me want to rush out with a spading fork and bulbs and dig holes, plant the bulbs, and start a garden again.  That's assuming I can hack through the permafrost first.

No.

The minute I show up with a spading fork the heavens will open up and bury us all in a blizzard. 

Opened the attic door this morning to give the cats a new play place for a few days, and they've been running themselves ragged, down the front stairs, up the back stairs, a quick turn and up the attic stairs, and the loose floor boards up there make it sound like hooved animals are up there tap dancing. Neither of them have been able to figure out the door flap I put in the wall for cats, and they sit there, pawing at it, and whining.  When you open it for them they back away, horrified.

Got a nice call from the people who handled our property easement,  wanting to know if we would still be available for the 20th anniversary dinner.  They even said they would waive the $100 dollar fee for the dinner because we were the first people they conserved.  I swallowed and said, no,  as much as we appreciate the offer, we just don't want to deal with crowds;  the virus, you know.  I suspect they are finding many older people are backing out, too.  Sadly.

------
edit:  the easement people (MMRG) has canceled the anniversary dinner. Thank heaven.   It may have been lack of people willing to risk life and limb, or their own fears about a group like that, or a combination of both.  Maybe next year, a 21st anniversary instead.  Sometimes wisdom rears its ugly head.  =)

Turning the corner toward spring

Spring ahead, tonight.  Yay us.  We made it through whatever it was we had all winter...

I now have a living breathing excuse to not go to the family Easter 'do",  the CDC has issued a warning (which is tantamount to a proclamation) that the elderly (which they consider to be 60 and over) need to take special care, since we are fragile and frail and, er, elderly.  We should stay home if possible, avoid gatherings,  crowds, and stores.

My husband, who just turned 76, is a bit annoyed by that designation.  I will be 75 in about 6 months, and Im planning to be a bit annoyed too.  What about those people who work??  They can't pass on maternity leave, maybe their companys will give them Elder Leave...?

spring in 13 words

Maple buds

March

a woodpecker drums

deep in the woods

and the sap

begins to rise

http://newthursday13.blogspot.com/

Color me...

1. out of the blue
2. tie a yellow ribbon
3. green with envy
4. orange julius
5. yellow fever
6. black-eyed susan
7. purple haze
8. white heat
9. brown study
10. seeing red
11. pink eye
12. The Man in Grey
13. Rainbow Connection

http://newthursday13.blogspot.com/

And the light at the end of the tunnel...

isn't necessarily a  way out, but is often a flame thrower.  As Terry Pratchett was fond of reminding us.

I used to think that growing old and reasonably healthy was a prize to be aimed for, and valued.

In the past week, after reading the shenanigans in DC and our apparent future as a new soviet satellite, I begin to wonder what prize that might be.   I do now understand what that smile on
Putin's face means, the one you see it all his publicity-with-the-president photos, and I think it's exultation.   He has found his perfect puppet, one who is too damaged to see the strings, and the puppeteer.

I also wonder at those people who cheer. 

I think all anyone of us can do, at this point, is vote our hearts and our heads,  and hope.


I am also busy re-learning a weaving loom (film at 11, but not yet) and it is both enlightening and disturbing, how much I have utterly forgotten, and how much  memory muscle is involved.  It really does become a meditation, on many things, including the act and art of weaving, and the satisfaction you get from it.

 This house has part of an old ( REALLY old) 12 harness loom, up in the attic, in pieces. i have the 12 harnesses, and some of the remnants of the loom, but the rest is gone. Possibly for firewood, or shoring up a shed long after the original weaver died.  One of the longer pieces, the cloth beam, perhaps, is too long to get out of the attic, and i finally realized this machine was taken down every winter and stored in this attic, and in the spring it was moved into the shed attic, through a very small connecting door at the north end.  It gave her room to card, to spin, to weave, and possibly store her projects over winter.   Judging from the pieces I have here, it was a huge, huge loom.

Oh, yes. Eat first. Have your coffee...

Heather Cox Richardson from Letters from an American

T13 Letter play

1.lounging
2. lunging
3. plunging
4. plugging
5. slugging
6. slogging
7. flogging
8. logging
9. lugging
10. hugging
11. bugging
12. bagging
13. bragging



http://newthursday13.blogspot.com/

Heather Cox Richardson (to cheer you) (not)

heathercoxrichardson.

Must read ( Heather Cox Richardson)

Long, but necessary, I think--started reading this, and suddenly realized I had read the whole thing...


heather cox richardson

The Magic Phrase Part II

Today I got a call from a nearly incoherent Indian man,  to remind me that  my 'delivery' was about to arrive and they hadn't recieved my payment yet.   Then I remembered that a few weeks ago someone who might well have been this same incoherent Indian man had called to let me know that my Clearing House delivery (o boy o boy color me excited) was arriving soon and they wanted to know if I would be home to accept it, and a small fee for the delivery would be in order now.

At that time we got into an argument about such things and I finally hung up. 

This time I may have found the magic words. I suggest that anyone who gets one of these calls, try it, it works a treat.  "I'm sorry, but we're on a do not call list and you shouldn't be calling here"  click.

I used it yesterday when manly-voiced Joe (or Pete or Frank) called on behalf on the State Fire Marshalls, wanting a donation.  click.

They don't argue.  In the case of the incoherent Indian man, he may be just versed in english enough to think HE has been put on a do not call list and who am I to dissuade him...

Year in review, back-country style

What a strange trip this has been

January and March
two ambulance rides,  one kidney stone/kidney removed.  My husband learned just how much to-ing and fro-ing is involved with running three wood stoves in below zero weather.   He got up a LOT, every two hours every night, whilst I idled my way through surgery and recovery armed only with one book, which I read three times.

February, March
it snowed a lot. It snowed a lot more and got colder.   When I came home Charlie was most solicitous of me, and was careful not to sleep on my stitches. I was most impressed by that.

June to November
Had the kitchen chimney lined,  and 6 cords of wood delivered. We cut and split and threw and stacked a bit every day.  I kept hoping I might lose a pound or two. Nooo. Not gonna happen...a neighbor last year had found a felled tree that straddled his property and ours, and he didn't want to deal with that much tree, so he said he'd help my husband buck it up and let him have the wood, as payment for getting it out of the way.  Which he did.  Nice rock maple that had outlived itself, and we're using it now for heat.

July, August, September
Got rid of the piano. it took an engine hoist and a chain saw, but we got it moved outside and dispersed. (to be gentle about it) Moved some furniture upstairs, and some into ever changing patterns, some of them right out into the car to the salvation army and some magically became kindling. You can never have too  much kindling, nossir.

July, August
 He decided we were about to be the dubious parents of an oil burner and a buncha radiators.  My job to move all the furniture into the middle of the rooms, and no I was not happy about that.  And as he said, since we have the walls cleared, why don't we get some wall board and put up decent looking walls. So I got out my plaster removal kit (one butter knife, a spatula, a hammer,  and a flat bladed screwdriver).  He also let me help him pick up  the wallboard at Home Depot, and then unload it when we got home.  I don't need a fitness trainer, I have a husband who Builds Things.

July
He replaced the water tank and pump, which were well overdue to be replaced.  The 30 gallon hot water heater in the bathroom sprang a leak, so that had to be replaced, too.  Damn didn't we get good at hauling things up and down stairs...


August, September
The radiator people came. They wired and soldered and clanged and complained loudly, and at the end of five days we had 8 new radiators hooked up.  I have no idea how to operate them, at this point, but they do work.  We still use the wood, but I no longer feel the towering need to get up every night and stuff the stoves like a mother bird with her babies, open wide, look at what mama has for you...

October to December
I started on new curtains for the bedroom windows (four) and one for the front hall. Amazing how much cold that keeps back.  We brought the small 36" weaving loom down into the parlor, and at some point I'll run out of excuses and dig into remembering how it works.  It's been awhile.

I also did a bit of sorting as to fabric, and was stunned to discover just how much I really have.  Much if it can be repurposed into things like dustcloths (old flannel sheets are perfect for that), or  potholders (former denim jeans, cut in squares,  folded over and stitched work a treat), and I still have one room upstairs to put curtains to, when it gets warmer.

We survived Christmas, and now it's next year, the days are getting longer,  which is strangely comforting.  Some things can be depended upon, no matter what else happens. 

If you've never seen this...

Heather Cox Richardson

https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/january-24-2020?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=cta

The Definite Maybe T13

(13 ways to say no to a four year old)

1. soon

2. not yet

3.  not always

4.  hardly ever

5.  probably

6.  possibly

7.  we'll see

8.  maybe, maybe not

9.  if it doesn't rain

10.  when the tide goes out

11.  not until tomorrow

12.  after the mailman comes

13.  ask your father

http://newthursday13.blogspot.com/

I love old age. I get to be cranky

It would seem that the world of scams and hands-across-the-table has discovered that we're old.  And as they know, older people tend to trust more (except for the ones that don't), and are more easily taken in by scammers.  Except for the ones that don't.  So far this week I've fielded calls from insurance companies (for the car I no longer own) and for the policy I don't want and for the healthcare Im not interested in, plus a LOVELY man with a charming Jamaican accent this morning, who wanted to know why I hadn't responded to their inquiries about the Publishers Clearing house contest I won.  I said no, I never look at that stuff, and I throw it away.  He wanted to argue, so I hung up.

From now on, anyone with an Indian accent, or Jamaican, or any other accent will learn, to their sorrow, that she moved away months ago, or never existed, or died, poor dear, a year ago."Her?  That one?  Honey, she dead, she died MONTHS ago, so you just stop calling here, okayyy..."

We are still getting requests to visit our coastal version of  Shady Pines for the Rich and Elderly, gated community (which always puts me in mind of big clangy white gates that slam shut at dark, and you get to sleep outside in your car if you get home late...) and golf course included...

And the burial insurance. Oh, I love that one.  Or the life insurance for the elderly, no medical exam needed, at this age it's a tossup which of us will be burying the other, anyway.

I told my husband,  if you hear me telling people I'm dead, pay it no mind.  It's just my way.

A Just for Fun Story

GOODWILL

She reached into the rack of used jackets, finding a nice suede one that looked as if it would fit.   Slipping it on, she heard someone say, "Well, you know I never liked that color on you, but it's a nice fabric".  Turning, she saw an older couple in the next  aisle, smiled when they glanced over at her, and turned back to the jackets.

Next she tried on a corduroy pinwale, noticed a button was missing, but the price was good and the fit--"Michael, do you like this?" The voice was close, and high, obviously a young woman's, but when she turned to look, only the older couple were there.  Mentally shrugging, she removed the coat, but not before she heard someone say, "Oh, Mike,  not HERE"...and a giggle.

Good lord, she thought. What are they letting in off the streets these days!   She went back to the suede, tried it on again, and heard, close at hand, sobbing.  On and on, so loud

she was certain other people must have noticed it too.  She walked around the end of the row to comfort or at least confront the person, but the only one there was a very small Japanese woman, obviously nowhere near tears. She smiled,  Anne smiled. 

oh dear, she thought.

Taking off the jacket once more, the sobbing stopped.  Farther down she came to a rack of women's winter coats.  Taking a mid length soft fur coat  off the hanger she draped it over her shoulders.  Startled, she took it off, hung it back up, and moved away.  "Oh, baby you look so GOOD" a male voice had purred in her ear.

Suddenly she grabbed a hat, put it on.  A child's voice called.  Wrapped a scarf around her neck, and she heard a fire engine.  The child, calling for its mother, the fire engine wailing.   Gloves?   The right hand began arguing with the left hand.   Now that coat again, with the male voice in it.  Still purring.  Occasionally moaning.   She started to giggle, then realized the clerks were watching her in her headlong dash down the aisle, trying on sweaters, hats, boots.  Drunk, their faces said. Or shoplifting. Watch This One.

Slowly she removed the little boy, and put the hat back on the shelf.  Took off the arguing gloves, returned them to the glove bin.  The scarf, still wailing, went back among the other scarves.   Regretfully she returned the coat, still murmuring,  to its proper place..  Half way down the aisle she turned, went back, and retrieved the coat.  "Eighteen dollars", the counter clerk said firmly. "no checks.".  She handed the woman the money, put the coat on, and left the store, smiling. 

Christmas recap (YAY, we lived through another one)

 

We survived another Christmas with enough relatives (all his) to populate a football team, but the wonder holds:  even with six little kids galloping about (the oldest is about 8, the youngest is 3), everyone seems to get along extremely well.  No sulks in the corner, no grumbling,  no fussyness.

The kids have now progressed enough to be interested in 'group games' and play them with a great deal of shouting, but no howling. Major diff, there.  It's fun to watch them change from infants into kids, one holiday at a time.  The youngest one marched right up to me and gave me the best knee hug (well, he's only three, he's still pretty short) I have ever had, with  a great grin on his face.  He's the Happy Kid,  loves to laugh, and I suspect he will be the future 'good guy' in school. 

There are three layers: Grandparents, parents, and kids.  All even spaced as to age, so none of one group is stuck in neverland, not really fitting in anywhere.   I think that helps.    I realize that now we are the oldest in the bunch, by several years, and if we had had kids,  they would be too old and too young for anyone there. That's a hard place to be in. And they would have had kids who suffered the same strange dichotomy. 

It's always a fun day,  if exhausting, and even though all we did was eat and visit, today I am barely up to anything, beyond coffee and filling the woodboxes. (Maybe it's time to give up the idea of 'someday' having one last Christmas here.)