I had to make a run to Trader Joe’s yesterday—I was out of milk. I was a bit concerned, as we’ve had snow on the ground for a couple of days, but in actuality we’ve not had temperatures above freezing, so nothing melted and then refroze. So, roads were cleared and dry, although the junction of the parking lot exit and a road was a bit dodgy.
But I’m not here to talk about roads. I’m here to show you the
crystal formations on my car’s windscreen.
Gorgeous, no?
Yeah, we got maybe a couple of inches of snow through Monday night. That’s enough to shut down schools, but really not bad if you don’t have to go anywhere.
But for perhaps the first time ever, I shoveled the patio,
because I didn’t want the birds to have to dig through the snow to get to the
seed I tossed out. I had a carpet of juncos, cardinals, sparrows, bluebirds,
wrens, titmice, doves and bluebirds.
That was worth the work.
Okay, well—my bad for writing that we here in the District They Call Columbia were snow-free. We got a dusting Sunday night, as I mentioned yesterday, but the dust continued throughout the day, and WaPo predicted more for the evening.
I’m still not much fussed—I don’t need to go out for any reason; there are
single-serving cottage pies in the freezer; and I got a delivery last week of
about 40 lbs of birdseed, so I’ve been enjoying the show out on my patio.
It’s all good.
We had a storm predicted for the weekend, but I have to say that it seems to have missed my part of the People’s Republic.
Well, perhaps my immediate part.
We got some rain during the night on Friday. Saturday it was
almost temperate—in the 40s, and sunny for a good part of the day. Yesterday
was right nippy, with just a touch of snow. For about 23 minutes; not enough to even coat the ground.
But it turns out that only a couple of hundred yards away from
me, on the private golf course that appears to be the only patch of green that
Fairfax County Board of Supervisors is willing to retain in the People’s
Republic, I saw this:
And I’m so grateful that this wasn’t one of the big trees that
line the property behind my house.
UPDATE: Haha—I woke up to snow on the ground. But I've shoveled three neighbors' walks and I'm warm and dry inside. Still grateful.
I’ve been thinking this week about the Smothers Brothers, and their CBS variety show that ran a couple of years in the 60s. Because I’ve also been thinking about Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth”, one of the anthems of those years of marching against the Vietnam War.
I believe we'll have more marching to do this year.
The truth is, I can never hear that song without seeing the
augmentations wrought by Tommy Smothers (may his memory be a blessing)—all these decades later, they’re still
an integral part of the impact for me.
So I’m sharing with you.
You’re welcome.
I was in a couple of “international” grocery stores yesterday. You know—ones that specialize in Asian, South Asian, Latino and, to a lesser extent, Middle East and African foods. I love wandering through places like that.
They both had tanks for live seafood, which I don’t think I’ve seen in a “mainstream” supermarket in years. I noticed that this one crab was trying to make a break for it, which is also something you don’t usually see.
It’s been a while since I reported on Foxy, the guy who’s put my back yard on his cruising route. He had a good Christmastide—two lamb rib bones on Christmas and two more on Boxing Day. Plus scraps of cheese, the odd salmon filet skin and mini-omelets from leftover egg wash for chicken cordon bleu.
(I’m not feeding him—I never put out enough to make a
meal of; they’re just treats. I’ve also learnt not to put out any dishes. I
once gave him leftover shrimp-dipping butter in a little porcelain ramekin,
which I thought he could just clean out. Beggar swiped the dish.)
He’s come by several times in the morning, though, and I have to say he’s looking pretty fit and festive. Whaddaya think?
My first yoga lesson of 2024 was all about balance. I didn’t think about the significance of that at the time—I was too busy trying not to fall over. But it seems a good way to start out a new year, concentrating on navigating life with balance.
Also—focusing
on not falling over.
I
don’t think I spend enough time on this—it’s so easy to get swept up in this or
that (especially given what mishegoss we live in). But balance is connected to
grace, I think, which we all can use more of.
And
grace is connected to gratitude.
So
that’s what I’m grateful for today: the reminder to bring balance into my life.
Not to put too fine a point upon it, but we all know that 2024 is going to be a shitshow. Presidential elections are always gagworthy, but this one, given the Kleptocrat’s candidacy and his strangle hold on the party of right-wing nutjobbery, is gag to an order of magnitude.
Particularly
given the criminal and civil legal actions against him—you know that every
single day he grows more unhinged and desperate, with the flop sweat pouring
down his unwashed body under the girdle into his Depends. If he thinks he’s
going to lose—a court case, a caucus, an election—he’ll burn everything down,
and his followers will dance in the flames.
In short:
So for my first earworm of the year, let’s have Sam Cooke singing “A Change Is Gonna Come.” Let’s see if hope will prevail through this year of insanity.
