'tis the season and all that

One of my favorite bloggers (whom I do not know personally) recently wrote an entry titled "Do Good." He asked his readers to confess their random acts of kindness, to toot their own horns. From the responses, it seems that there are actually a fair number of kind-hearted people out there in the world and that makes me feel, well, safe.

Here's a chance to make a real difference for someone. Sandy is a long-time friend of a far-away friend of mine, and while I usually wouldn't plug something like this on my blog, I extend the opportunity to you folks to do something direct (I did!), if not for Sandy, well, then consider another way you can help someone or some cause in a direct (read: big and real) way.

Note: the site doesn't exactly stress the importance of the situation for Sandy, but trust me, it's a pretty serious need.

Thanks.

and it keeps snowing

The ride down to the beach was uneventful. It appeared that the grounds crew had plowed the hilly roads. However, we got positively soaked during our walk. This is wet, heavy stuff. And the high temperature tomorrow is supposed to be near freezing.

I think we'll have an interesting few days here in Brigadoon. The deer will be hungry. Good thing I just loaded up all our shrubbery with a hefty dose of Bobbex.

sometimes it snows

We woke to laurels and rhodies bending over with the weight of the snow.

Then it began to rain.

There's probably three inches of slush on the sidewalks and roadways, and the next few days we won't be seeing temperatures much above freezing.

Now it's snowing again like there's no tomorrow.

The Bjornbuggy has all-wheel drive. I think I'll see if we can make it down the steep, switch-backed road to the beach. What the hell. Worst that could happen? We flip upside-down into the tennis courts.

I'll keep you posted.

no excuses

Today is Monday. Which is to say, tomorrow is Tuesday. Fiddle class day.

Have I practiced? No. Why? Well.....

These are not excuses, but reasons.

1) I likely have a rotator cuff injury in the left shoulder, which makes it painful to hold the fiddle up.

2) I likely have some nerve damage along the left ribs, from an old repetitive-strain injury and radiation treatments, which make it painful to hold the fiddle up. Painful as in stabbing muscle spasms along the ribs.

3) After an hour of practice on Tuesday afternoons and 2 hours of class on Tuesday nights, I'm in pain. Substantial pain. And I don't have this pain if I don't hold the goddamned fiddle.

Reading this, I realize that if I didn't practice on Tuesdays but instead played a few minutes each day, like the teacher said, I'd probably be fine.

So, should I practice tomorrow or not?

I'll let you know what I decide.

the wind

We had some wind.

Actually, we've had three seriously windy storms in 10 days, starting with that Pineapple Express on the 6th.

Yesterday took the cake, though. We didn't dare venture outside as the alder missiles were flying. We were eternally glad we had a dozen of the alders closest to the house cut down in the spring, not that we could tell, judging by the sounds up on the roof.

We lost power about 10:30 a.m. No biggie. hobbitt was taking the afternoon off anyway, so that we could to into Seattle for an Uncle Bonsai house concert. Except the Hood Canal bridge was closed, so we really couldn't get there after all.

We turned on the fireplace for heat, and I cooked up a pot of potato leek soup, which I "pureed" with a potato masher. As the afternoon wore on, we began rounding up candles. We had a game of dominoes, quickly raided the freezer for ice cubes and had a few cocktails. NY Times Sunday crossword puzzles by candlelight produces headaches - a tip from your Auntie Caca. hobbitt read for a while, and then we just sat in the dark and talked about my upcoming birthday, and what outrageous trip I should plan to celebrate it. We ended up going to bed a couple of hours earlier than usual, and by then the winds had died down to a dull roar.

The power came back on just after midnight. I had turned on the bathroom exhaust fan, hoping it would wake me if power was restored during the night. It did. I went to the kitchen and office putting food back in the fridge (the temp was 48 in the fridge and 6 in the freezer, normally 38 and 0) and turning off lights.

It's sunny and beautiful this morning, in the sky, at least. The yard, the roadway - yeah, it's a little messy. The wind howled for 24 hours. I can hear chainsaws all around us. And I need to get to the beach with the dog. Neither one of us went outside yesterday except for her potty breaks.

It's supposed to get a little windy tomorrow, too. I thought things came in threes?

the rain

The rainy season has arrived. This evening we're between two fierce storms - the Pineapple Express that hit here on the 6th, and another big blow tomorrow. Keith hustled to get some of the larger trees (coral bark maple, paperbark maple, atlas cedar, noble fir) planted. As the deciduous trees are leafless and the conifers still rather thin, they should do fine in the high winds tomorrow. I wish I could say that the project is filling my heart with joy, but because of the time of year, it's merely emptying my pocketbook and keeping me from walking in the mud-pit that the yard has become. I know it will be fine, and I'm not worrying about it. But right now, it is what it is.

Make no mistake - I love the rains. I guess I wouldn't be here if I didn't. The lawn in the play area down at the beach looks like the best-kept golf course green you can possibly imagine. After thirsting all summer, it has come back to life with an amazing exuberance. It always makes me smile, the lawns that perk up in November and December and stay lush green until mid-August.

After several days of rain we had glorious sunshine today, and hobbitt and I got to walk in it and breathe it in. By the time our walk was over there wasn't a patch of blue anywhere in the sky but that's how it goes here. I wasn't sure we'd be taking our evening walk, as it had begun to rain in earnest again late this afternoon, when we drove into town to get some groceries. But by the time we'd finished our errand, there were starry, clear patches of sky and a walk seemed like a good way to end the day, as it always is for us.

I'd forgotten about our night walks from last winter. In summer, to walk in the dark would mean getting down to the beach after 10, and though we're slugs, even that is a bit late for us to be hking around. That's not the case now, of course. So at six tonight, we found ourselves under a broad swath of the Milky Way, even if it was only for a brief time, as the clouds rolled in once again.

Of course, night walks are mis-named - I should call them "take a few steps and spend 10 minutes looking up into the stars" strolls. I saw a few very dim shooting stars. hobbitt spotted several satellites. We kept noticing flashes of light in the sky, and couldn't for the life of us figure out what was going on until, as we turned the point and headed west, we could see the huge flashes of lightning over the Olympic Mountains. It wasn't until we were almost back to the car that we began to hear the distant rumbling of thunder.

I love it here. I love it.

happy new year, happy anniversary to me

In the wee hours we'll be headed out of town to visit an old friend. Not that she's old or anything. Anyway, we're going to help her celebrate a very momentous event. I believe we're going to start with a Thai dinner.

For me, this is a notable coincidence. On November 1, 1994, hobbitt and I had a strange Thai dinner with my mother and her friend of (at that time) 60 years, my "Aunt" Gini. They had driven from New Joy Sea to Illinois to spend some time with us. It had been a wonderful, though difficult visit, as visits with Mom usually were.

The dinner was strange because I had just been diagnosed with cancer a few hours ealier. I remember the entire evening with the utmost clarity but I couldn't tell you a thing about the food. I can tell you that I didn't expect to be around much longer than that. In fact, I tell you this every year right about now. And I enjoy telling it, as I hope to enjoy telling it for a long time to come. And since Pete actually has exactly one Thai restaurant, I can celebrate appropriately if I want to, for Lucky 13 and beyond.

So there it is. Twelve years, a gift, a mystery, a miracle. Just like your lives. Just like every flipping day.

Just like your lives. So many of you lucky folks don't know this. Wake up! Wake up to how unfuckingbelievably fantastic this is! Even when you think it is well and truly biting ass. Oh, man, this is it! This is the show! And It. Is. Amazing. And. Beautiful.

To this whole messy existence! Cheers! Oh, and you newer survivors - come and top that. I know you can do it.