Brief Note: I began using WordPress to create this blog just over a year ago, November 7th, 2007. Bill Schmidt took the initiative and taught me a new tool. Thanks, Bill.
Thanks, too, to each of you, now about 2,500 a week, who read AncienTrails. I hear from some of you, occasionally, but I’d enjoy hearing from more of you. Anyhow, thanks for reading.
32 bar steep rise 30.08 0mph NW Windchill 31 Samhain
Waning Gibbous Dark Moon
Got groceries at Festival. Grocery prices have gone up, maybe 15-20%. Many people bought their Thanksgiving turkeys from a young woman with a table set up beside the butcher’s counter. Christmas music played in the background, in sympathy, I guess, with the lonely retailers who expect no Christmas present purchases this year.
Once again I purchased produce unrecognizable to the check-out person, a friendly girl of about 18. Is this a rutabaga? No, jicama. Is this a sweet potato? No, a yam. Oh, do they taste different? Yes and have different colors, too. What about these, are they good? Rambuta. Yes, just slice around the middle and take the top off. Are they sweet? Yes, if you like sweet, you’ll like these. They’re not too sweet, are they? No. Medium.
Then I was on my way with my plastic bags, once again shopping without the cloth bags I’ve purchased for the purpose. I wish they’d hop in the car without my having to remember.
The rest of the morning I cleared ground along the forest edge so I can put down black plastic, then mulch, to kill all the flora we do not want in the way when we plant the crops that will distract the birds from our orchard. They will provide a height sensitive edge, stair stepping back toward the poplars, ash, cedar, oak, acacia and pin cherry behind them.
Built up a good appetite. Still eating the 11-bean soup I made a week and a half or so ago. Nap.
Now, after the nap, I’m doing inside things I’ve held off until I had a bit of time in the afternoon. I put ink cartridges in my Canon Pixma printer. This is a real rip-off. Even when printing only black, like copies, it uses up colored ink. This means that you have to replace the color cartridges as often as the black ones. Guess what? The colored cartridges are expensive. Anyone with this printer as their primary printer pays a lot for the privilege. My laserjet printer handles black and white in an economical manner.
Also cleaned the carpet in the study. Dogs leave the occasional trail. Also cleaned the stairs. Dogs, again.
Kate’s upstairs threshing beans from our garden. I look forward to using them in recipes over the course of the winter.
The cones are finally on the zone 5 grasses in the perennial garden. I hope they survive. They were a nice, delicate touch behind the lilies, iris and, later, the iris and sedum.
Oh. BTW. No fruits on the pepper or eggplant yet. It was a false pregnancy. This may take a while to get down.
30 bar rises 30.00 1mph windchill 28 Samhain
Waning Gibbous Dark Moon
Kate is my wife, friend and partner. I had a conversation with her this morning.
“Kate,” I said, “I want to do something substantial before I shuffle off this mortal coil. (Dad used that phrase a lot. I don’t know where he got it.)”
She smiled and waited, her face turned a bit up to ease the strain on her neck.
“It’s not that I don’t like my life and what I do with it. I enjoy diverse things that require different skills. I’ve accepted that’s the life likely to be lead by a valedictorian. Good at many things, deep in none. Still. I’d like to work on and complete a substantial writing project.”
“What’s your question?” she asked.
“What should I do?” She’s good at answering questions like this. Most people are not, but I trust her and have trusted on these matters for years.
“Lake Superior. That’s the first thing that popped into my mind,” she said, “We could have monthly Lake Superior meetings. Get a large paper pad and work on the project at least once a month. We could make a point of going once or twice a year to different parts of the (true) north shore and pay close attention to it for a week or so.”
“Thanks,” I said, “That’s what I needed. Now I’m going to go get groceries.”
On the drive over I considered her suggestion. It was a good one. We could work on it as partners. I have a shelf full of books and two large file drawers filled with information on Lake Superior.
A few years ago I started in earnest on an ecological history of Lake Superior. I made three trip around the lake, visiting local historical societies as I went, purchasing books and making notes. Taking picture. I made notes, created an outline and a research plan, dug up many good websites. I still have all this material.
I may have stalled the first time around because I’d made my objective both too specific and inflexible. Lake Superior as myth, as geological feature, as water, as story, as an expression of a coming zeitgeist are all rich avenues to explore. Painting, music, lore. Some mix of these, positioning Lake Superior at the heart of the continent and the center of a worldview. Something along those lines.