12/08/10 "OLD DOGS AND OLD MEN"

A SICKLY SUN TRIES TO SHINE THROUGH
LOWER CHEQUAMAEGON BAY IS FROZEN OVER
RED CLIFF CASINO CONSTRUCTION PROCEEDS APACE

Wednesday, 8:30 AM. 18 degrees, wind WSW, very light. The sky is overcast. as a sickly sun tries to shine through. It is snowing lightly; gentle, fluffy flakes. The barometer is up. I had a load of firewood delivered yesterday and managed to get it stacked in the shed before it got covered with snow.
Lucky is feeling better, I got him to eat some yogurt mixed with boiled (not fried) hamburger last night and I think his appetite will soon return. Daughter Greta, the English teacher and dog trainer, recommended that as a step above yogurt alone and I pass it on in case your pup gets deathly ill and won't eat. I am mending as well, although I never did stop eating, and in any case the yogurt and boiled hamburger recipe doesn’t appeal to me. It must be a dog thing.
Thinking of what I said the other day about old men and old dogs I tried to remember where I read the iconic line, "old dogs and old men smell bad.” Turns out it is from Robert Ruark’s “The Old Man and the Boy,” and a more exact reference is, “ ‘two things got no place in this world, an old dog and an old man. They serve no useful function and generally smell bad, too. ‘ "He suggested that one of these days he was just going to say to hell with it and lay right down and die.” (An awfully lot of southern quail dog training is depicted after this discourse, which then ends with the following): “the old man seemed not so near death as before, and I could detect a slight odor of the medicine he used to ward off chills…”
I haven’t quite descended to the “lay right down and die” level, but I have taken a shower. I have not progressed to the brandy bottle as yet.
Lower Chequamegon Bay has frozen over and the swans have left, but Joan spotted two on Pikes Bay, which will not freeze over for a long time yet.
Work proceeds apace on the new Red Cliff Casino site.

12/07/10 REMEMBRANCE

GOLDEN SUN
SILVER WATERS

Tuesday, 8:45 AM. 12 degrees, up some from earlier. The wind is W, calm. The sky is now mostly clear and the barometer is up. The sun is golden and the waters silver, altogether a rather beautiful morning. Lucky and I both seem on the mend, although he still isn’t eating.
The attack on Pearl Harbor occurred when I was but a little child, so I don’t remember much about it. I remember more about the war as I grew along with it, and I certainly remember its last days, its end and the years immediately after quite well. I went to a Lutheran grade school, and remember seeing a poster someone placed on the Bulletin board that said, “Remember Pearl Harbor,” and the Pastor’s reaction to it, which I have never forgotten; “Children, if you never forget, you can never forgive, and Christians are told to forgive.” I have never forgotten that brief lesson. Perhaps there are even terrible things we should try to forget, at least over time, so that we may eventually forgive, so that our culture is not doomed to centuries and even millenia of self destructive hate and vengeance.
I just finished President George W. Bush’s new book of remembrances, “Decision Points.” It is not overtly political, but much more of a personal memoir, and a basic primer on decision making. Our decisions, good and bad, start with those that are most basic; deciding who we are and what we stand for, as all subsequent decisions build upon these basics. Then there are the questions of who the decision maker surrounds himself (or herself) with and who he is influenced by, and how much information he needs to make a decision, and when to make it. Was the decision made with confidence and therefore kept intact. Where does the buck stop after the decision is made. It is a comfortably quick read for a complex subject, its language is plain and well laced with gentle humor. I recommend it, regardless of one’s politics.

12/06/10 FAITH, YOGURT AND APPLE PIE

A BETTER DAY?
GOT IN MY EASY CHAIR (WITH A LITTLE HELP)

Monday, 9:00 AM. 19 degrees, wind W, very light. The sky is overcast but the sun is trying to peek through, the barometer is up and it may be a better day.
That applies to Lucky as well, as he was able to take a short walk this morning and doesn’t seem so vacant, although he is still coughing up green bile. He is drinking water but has eaten nothing but a spoonful or two of yogurt in days. Daughter Greta in Columbus suggested that, as an old dog trainers’ remedy, and I pass it on as it works, strange as it may seem. I thought poor old Lucky was on his way out, but life is persistent in all creatures if we have patience, and faith in life itself. Nature comes to its own conclusions. As for me, I had apple pie for breakfast.

12/05/10 WE WALK THE SAME PATH

SNOWY, FOGY MORNING

Sunday, 8:30 AM. 18 degrees, wind W, calm. The barometer is down, and it is snowing gently, big dime-sized flakes. The Island is obscured by snow and fog.
Lucky and I are still feeling poorly, I with an affliction that has come and gone half my life, so I know it will go eventually. Lucky, however, has been as sick as though poisoned, despite a trip to the vet. We both made it up the hill for a short walk this morning, so perhaps things are turning around. But it gives one pause, to realize that eventually some random illness or accident or just old age will eventually do all of us in. If you want to contemplate your own life, own a dog. Their lives are much, much shorter than ours but are very similar in many ways; almost a human life in microcosm. Perhaps that is why we are so attracted to them as companions. We walk the same path.

12/04/10 SWANS AND DEER

MORE OF THE SAME
STILL HUNDREDS OF TUNDRA SWANS ON THE BAY

Saturday, 9:00 AM. 24 degrees, wind WSW, calm. The sky is overcast and it is snowing lightly, a repeat of the last several days. Lucky and I have been under the weather, so posts are nonexistent or short.
There are still hundreds of swans on the Bay at Ashland, rather late I think. The truck is back from the body shop so I am forgetting all about deer for a while.

12/02/10 THE LEMON TREE

A REPEAT OF YESTERDAY
LEMON TREE, VERY PRETTY...
AND THE LEMON FLOWER IS SWEET...
BUT THE FRUIT OF THE POOR LEMON, IS IMPOSSIBLE TO EAT...
(BUT MAKES GOOD JUICE)...
(AND, BEWARE THE THORNS!)

Thursday 8:45 AM. 19 degrees, wind WSW, calm to very light. The sky is overcast and it is snowing very lightly. The barometer is up, predicting sunny skies; perhaps this afternoon. But for now it is a cold, gray day.
It may be rather dismal outside, but inside the foyer is filled with the sweet, sweet scent of lemon flowers. We have had our lemon tree (it is probably the variety Meyer, which is most suited to indoor culture) for almost twenty years and have moved it from one place to another, so it is pretty tough. It likes to be outside in the summer but is perfectly happy inside the rest of the time. It prefers cool nights (around 55 degrees) and 70 degrees during the day, so it is does pretty well in a room that does not get much heat. It prefers a sunny location but ours does well with rather minimal winter sunlight. It likes to be kept moist but should be well drained. Ours is currently in a plastic pot but would prefer to be in a clay pot. A good peaty commercial soil mix suits it fine, and a little supplemental fertilizing when it is growing actively is beneficial. I would dearly love to have a sunny “winter garden” plant room but spreading plants around the house in suitable locations works O.K. too.
In my experience, scale insects are the worst and most prevalent pest of lemon trees, and ours seems to be free of them at this point because I really cleaned the tree up well and sprayed it with an organic pesticide before I brought it inside. Since it is blooming now with no insect pollinaters available, I will hand pollinate it with a small paint brush. Then, if kept properly watered, including some hand misting, our tree will bear a lot of good, useable lemons (which take a long time to mature). At present it has only one large lemon attached to it, but several years ago it bore two dozen good lemons, which lasted us a long time. One caution: its thorns are wicked, and if the plant gets too large and heavy you will bleed some when you have to move it around. Keeping it on a plant dolly minimizes the hazard, as does pruning, which it withstands quite well.
Tundra swans are still on the Bay at Ashland, looking like blocks of floating ice when they have their heads and necks submerged while feeding

12/01/10 FRIENDS

A GRAY MORNING

Wednesday, 8:00 AM. 24 degrees, wind NW, very light. There is some fog or haze over the channel and the Island. An inch of crusty snow fell last night. The sky is overcast but the barometer is up, predicting clear skies. At least most of the ice on roofs and roads had a chance to melt.
Somehow I have lost all my Blog friends. I must have unknowingly clicked on a delete somewhere, as I am not very skilled at techie things. Either that or I massively ticked everyone off and you all left at the same time. That’s possible but I don’t think very probable. So, if you left from boredom, disgust or something else, please forgive me and come on back. Otherwise, come on back anyway, and I will try not to be so careless with friends, old or new, in the future. Come to think of it, there have been a few friends in my non-digital past who inexplicably drifted away, and this apologia reaches out to them as well.