Gratitude Monday: central heat

I’ve probably spent several Mondays recently expressing my gratitude for central heat, but it’s not clear to me that you can say it too many times, given the winter we’re having in the District They Call Columbia. In the past two weeks we’ve barely crept up into the twenties; there’s still snow on the ground from the big storm on the 16^th.

I’m very well aware that even having central heat is by no means a given, even in the world’s wealthiest nation in the 21^st Century. That’s leaving aside the issue that tens of thousands of households regularly lose power in big storms and have no operating heat in the coldest of times.

I keep my thermostat set to 73F, and even so I wear layers indoors. Still, every time I come inside I feel a wave of gratitude along with the warmth. I hope I never take it for granted.

 

 

 

Such a fine line

I confess I’m not a big fan of Neil Young; I find his voice annoying and I’m not massively in love with the songs he writes. Then there was all the flapdoodle between Steven Stills and Young throughout their collaborations. However, for taking a stand against Spotify platforming the anti-vax ravings of Joe Rogan, I’m willing to take another listen.

Young survived a bout of polio when he was a child in 1952, the last major outbreak before widespread vaccines made it possible to eradicate the killer worldwide. In this case, I like his voice fine.

So here’s “Heart of Gold”, with Willie Nelson for 1995's Farm Aid concert.

 

More light patterns

I don’t know what this phenomenon is called, but I caught it while in Arizona two weeks ago.

The aqua blob is something that happens when light strikes my mobile phone camera. I don’t know what that’s called, either, and I don’t know how to get rid of it. So this is not a UFO sighting. Just beautiful light refraction through clouds.

 

Patterns of life

When I was working at my sister’s dining table two weeks ago, I was struck by the only natural light that came into the house. It came in through the blinds and struck the chairs. I liked the pattern it created.

She decided last week that she doesn't want to return to the house, so someone else will be sitting around the table on these chairs.

So here's the light through her blinds striking her chairs.