bears, skirts and dinner

"On this mountain [God] will destroy the veil that veils all peoples, The web that is woven over all nations; he will destroy death forever. The Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces; The reproach of his people he will remove from the whole earth; for the Lord has spoken."

                                                              -   Isaiah 25:7-9

Meanwhile, tomorrow is the feast of St. Patrick; I'm working, so we had the dinner today. The crockpot did much of the work.

The cabbage was in another pan.

I've been reading "The Bears and I" by Robert Franklin Leslie. Published in 1968, the author is a young man in the north woods of Canada. Are there any of these type of men left? Can someone live like that in this day and age?  Anyway, he has to "adopt" three motherless cubs, and he tells the story so well; it's a page-turner!  I had brought the book home for my mother years ago and it was such a favorite with her, I'd gotten her a copy to keep. After she died I ended up letting it go, as I figured I'd never read it, but at work last week it came across the desk and I was suddenly interested. It's hard to put down! Bears are more like us than I'd realized. If you like animal stories, I very much recommend it.

"A wild bear grows to maturity and stays healthy for his twenty-five or thirty years on a vigorous program of physical exercise and diet unparalleled for any animal of his weight. I've watched both black and grizzly bears swim across the lake three miles wide, then climb over a mountain on the other side when easy alternative routes were available to them. I have seen black bears gallop down a mountainside and ascend a 200-foot fir without even breaking their speed - climbing by throwing their arms and legs around the trunk like a pole-climber - until they were near the top of the tree."

                                                -  The Bears and I

I saw this image on pinterest and saved it. I've got a sweater this very color, although not a turtleneck and not cropped. But that's all right. I have black suede maryjanes and I could copy the look well enough. So I poked around online and found some quilting cotton that is almost exactly this pattern.

I made a casing for an elastic waist, put in wide pleats, and it is machine basted. If i hadn't been so busy with the corned beef dinner, I could have made more progress. But it's an easy design to make and won't take much longer.

"To a bear, loss of face represents genuine calamity. Within his local society, withdrawal from any struggle most generally incurs loss of pecking rights - the established wilderness protocol of who has the right to clobber whom."

                                                  -  from The Bears and I

love transforms

 O God, your love for the world transforms darkness into light, hatred into love,
 and persecution into peace through the gift of your only Son.
 Make us true disciples in every circumstance of daily life, through Christ our Lord.
 Amen.

-  from Magnificat, March 2026

darkness and light

 Well, the split in my thumb is healed, and I stitched up the opening on the chair cushion. It was awkward using the curved needle, but not painful! It was not digging into my finger!

As I said, I had barely enough to cover it, but it's attached now, and I will figure out a patch to go over that area. This is on the back part of the cushion, so it won't be glaringly obvious.

It was so dark and dreary today, the cats slept most of it - it actually snowed, which would normally mean nothing in mid-March after the winter we've had, except that two days ago it was up near eighty; it was sunny, and everyone's spirits were lifted by it. Yesterday was also nice, but here we are back again. However, there is greening going on outside -

Yes, it's coming. 

in morning sun, from a different day

"Saint John of the Cross says our souls are like windows. Divine light is always there, beating on the panes, but often the panes are dirty so that the light cannot penetrate. Our task is very simple - not always easy, mind you, but basically simple! We do not have to make the sun shine. We do not have to create our own suns. All we have to do is let the sun in, and we do this by cleaning our windows. When they are free from every stain, the pure light pours in. We become like the Mother of God, who 'has this one work to do / Let all God's glory through' (Gerard Manley Hopkins).

Then the window - which is still there - is all one with the light, and in its own way has become light and light-giving. What is needed is great generosity, selflessness, trust, and patience.

True holiness - and remind yourself of this over and over again - has to do with very ordinary things: courage, self-denial, love for others, truthfulness, kindness, contentment with what God sends, dutifulness.... In short, all that matters, anytime, anywhere, is a strong, resolute cleaving to God."

                                                              -  Sister Mary David Totah, O.S.B.

a divine economy

 "Most of us are under pressure, external and internal, to do everything, be good at everything, be accountable to everyone for everything! It is not so. In the divine economy each of us has a particular grace, gift and devotion. Finding out what that is, and learning how to be guilt-free about not doing everything else, may be part of what our Lenten journey is for."

                                       -  Malcolm Guite, The Word in the Wilderness

looking ahead

 We're in for some very springlike temperatures this week. The snow has greatly receded, the grass is showing itself, along with puddly places and mud. I can see my raised beds. But there are still high snow mounds here and there.

I've been working on re-covering a chair pad which sits on the rocking chair. Annie slashed it when she was little, and ever since I've kept things in the chair to discourage them from even thinking about it. But I had some corduroy - barely enough - to try and make it nice again. 

See the pins? That is where it doesn't quite reach enough to enclose the pad. I knew it would happen; I am hand-stitching it to the pad (and the previous cover, which is not removeable), and then I hope to take a long scrap to attach it like an applique over that section to cover it. Unless I decide to make a more obvious patch from another fabric scrap that grabs my fancy - we'll see. But stitching the edge the other day to the pad was very difficult, because the needle is straight and the pad is curved and stiff: it's comfortable to sit on, but not squishy, if you know what I mean. I actually have some curved needles, but they're very thick and more suitable for leather or whatever. I found some quilting ones on Amazon, though. That will make it much easier. (When my sore thumb gets over pushing that needle through two days ago!)

The "quilted" places didn't have buttons, they were just sewn, so I just sewed them, but then I had the thought to use embroidery floss to "tie" them as you sometimes do in quilting. I think that will look cute, and I can just go over those areas.

 And then I'll still have to keep the cats off it. 

a thirsty God

 Jewish and Christian traditions of spirituality speak of the Word of God as the living water whereby the spirit is cleansed and refreshed. A quick sip - an occasional prayer snatched from the jaws of a relentlessly busy world - is better than no water at all, but roots that grow deep draw the water of life by frequent prayer. This living water produces a healthy tree that gives fruit to all who come.

                                                               - Magnificat, March 2026

Vincenzo Catena, Christ and the Samaritan Woman

"We see God begging for a drink of water from a human being, and a sinful one at that.... Indeed, he is a thirsty God, a tired God, a God looking for the companionship and dialogue of one of his creatures. How could it be that God is needy? Christ the one who by nature has need of nothing outside himself has nonetheless voluntarily made himself needy, but only in order to communicate to us the life that is his. This action of making himself needy out of love may well be the greatest and most astounding work of his omnipotence."

                                                        -  Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis

transformation

 "Lent is a time of transformation. As we gaze into the dark faith of prayer upon the glory of God revealed in Jesus Christ, we are transformed into his likeness."

                                              -  Magnificat, March 2026

"Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light."

                                            -  Matthew 17:1-2

becoming renewed

 The paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are getting wider, the grass in them is more visible. Water was running into the drains at the supermarket parking lot. It's been a little warmer. There will be more snow tomorrow, but I actually hung something out on the line today! It was very pleasant.

Breathe deep and be renewed by every breath,
Kinned to the keen east wind and cleansing air,
As though the blue itself were blowing through you.

- Malcolm Guite*

I bought some lamb and made Scotch broth today, and I had a very-belated revelation. I always buy the shoulder chops because that what I'm familiar with, and they're cheaper than other cuts. I bought two packages, and by the time I'd cut out all the bones and fat, what was left was a smaller amount than the pile of fat and bones. Is that economical? I had looked at the loin chop package, and noticed it seemed less fatty.  l will have to try that next time. I'm making lots of soups this Lent, and am using every good recipe I've got. It's just the thing for this time of year.

*from The Word in the Wilderness

it could have been worse

 At ten or eleven last night, visibility was low and snow was falling hard, but no wind. This morning the wind picked up, but the snow wasn't falling as vigorously. So, the heavy snowfall and the windy-ness didn't seem to happen at the same time. Is this a blizzard? I have seen worse, but I'm grateful it's past us and we didn't lose power.

I was reluctant to use the washer, in case we lost electricity while it was going; I was reluctant to cook any lengthy meals, in case things went black in the middle of it. So I rolled out a pie crust and baked it, then made a quiche later when things calmed down. The cats were very interested in the views outside. There is about a foot of it out there, including the four or so inches we began with. It really could have been much worse.

my brother in the street, to get a photo

turning aside

 The snow started around or right after seven thirty; it isn't a blizzard yet, but they're saying it's going to be. Right now it's just falling steadily but gently. We threw out some carrots, in case the rabbits came around before the snow, but they didn't.

However, I later realized the storm door was unlocked, and when I locked it, there was one at the head of the driveway, looking for sunflower seeds beneath the snow. There are plenty there. I watched him several minutes, when he suddenly zigzagged into the neighbor's yard, and there he sat, near a pile of brush near the shed. Meanwhile another appeared on the side of the forsythia and just quietly sat for five minutes until he, too, came to look for seed. Then we noticed a third near the feeder where the carrots are, so maybe they will get some after all. Because we will get at least a foot of heavy snow, at times with very low visibility and I have no idea how they manage or what they do in snowstorms.

But there had been a hawk outside a few days ago, so I'm glad to see all three of them, still our little neighbors. But, what do they do? What do squirrels do in blizzards, when the wind gusts to forty five miles per hour? Can they stay in the trees?

Now, they've all converged under the bird feeder, while the snow is only an inch or so deep. Fill up, little friends, because it may be a long while before your next meal!

While I was watching them, I thought of the poem by R.S. Thomas, which was the Lenten meditation for today in Malcolm Guite's The Word in the Wilderness:

"Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,
nor hankering after an imagined past.
It is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush."

Because I was standing there for a while; they weren't moving, so I didn't move, because I wanted to understand how they live.

But anyway, about the storm - we have plenty to eat, things to do and books to read. The town offices are already closed for tomorrow - my coworkers will have a day off.

I hope it won't be too bad.

The Bright Field

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realise* now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

-  R.S. Thomas

*realize the way the English spell it, with an "s"

where we're meant to be

 "Life means the fullest possible give and take between the living creature and its environment: breathing, feeding, growing, changing. And spiritual life, which is profoundly organic, means the give and take, the willed correspondence of the little human spirit with the Infinite Spirit, here where it is; its feeding upon Him, its growth towards perfect union with Him, its response to His attraction and subtle pressure. That growth and that response may seem to us like a movement, a journey, in which by various unexpected and often unattractive paths, we are drawn almost in spite of ourselves - not as a result of our own over-anxious struggles - to the real end of our being, the place where we are ordained to be..."

                                                             -  Evelyn Underhill

Being, the essence of a spiritual life

 "When we life our eyes from the crowded by-pass to the eternal hills; then, how much the personal and practical things we have to deal with are enriched. What meaning and coherence come into our scattered lives. We mostly spend those lives conjugating three verbs: to Want, to Have, and to Do. Craving, clutching, and fussing, on the material, political, social, emotional, intellectual - even on the religious - plane, we are kept in perpetual unrest; forgetting that none of these verbs have any ultimate significance, except so far as they are transcended by and included in, the fundamental verb, to Be: and that Being, not wanting, having, and doing, is the essence of a spiritual life."

                                                 -  Evelyn Underhill,  Essential Writings

at home, yet a stranger

 I just finished In This House of Brede with an online group - an excellent story! So many characters, so many personalities and lots going on. I remember Diana Rigg being in the film version but don't think I've watched it, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll keep my expectations low, since I can't imagine the whole story fitting into a two-hour or less movie.

I discovered a mostly-done skirt in my fabric stash - it's an olive cotton knit, made up just like my gray knit skirt, and only needed an elastic for the waist. I finished it off, and it's waiting to be ironed. I tried taking a photo, but the right color is so hard to get! 

I've started looking at my gardening books, even though the snow on the ground is still a few inches deep. There was some rain today, which will melt things a little faster. I'm also looking at all the books I own with a critical eye - do I really need you? I have a cookbook with recipes for many pantry type foods, and I noticed a recipe for chocolate yogurt. I bought a gallon of the only pasteurized milk at the store (as opposed to ultra-pasteurized) and made some. It calls for very little sugar, but I have it with a bit of honey. As I was ladling it into the jars, I noticed it looked more chocolate-y at the end than the top. I was stirring it well the whole time, but milky things often stick to the bottom of the pot, and when they do, you don't want to scrape it when you stir in case it may turn up solids which aren't going to dissolve. So I stirred frequently but carefully,and more of the chocolate stayed near the bottom. 

It's Lent.

"To take the ashes is to confess kinship with this world of dust, to declare our readiness to abdicate pretensions to omnipotence. Standing before God in this way, I profess that I am not God. I admit the chasm that separates me from him. I accept the uncomfortable otherness of God. He is what I am not, yet my being bears his mark. I crave a completion no created thing can give. I walk this earth as yearning incarnate. I am at home, yet a stranger, homesick for a homeland I recall but have not seen."

-  Bishop Erik Varden, from Magnificat, February 2026

resisting the machine

Spring is definitely in the air! It's warmer, but not terribly; but the birds are singing, the daylight lasts longer, the paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are showing grass! Everything feels like it's coming alive. Under the surface, of course, except for the birds - they're the ones who show it.

I am almost finished reading Defending Middle Earth by Patrick Curry. I picked it up when it was dropped off at the library. I do not exaggerate when I say that not a day goes by when someone does not drop off books at their local library - at least, I assume it happens everywhere; it sure does where I work! And of course I have to look through them. 

Anyway, Mr. Curry defends the Lord of the Rings stories, and their focus on the simple enjoyments of home, community and nature. He tries to explain the popularity from different angles. I feel I should read it again, so I put a note in it to that effect. Anyway -

"Why can Tolkien's 'mythology' be described as universal? I have already shown that it embodies an attack on unchecked modernity in all its worst aspects, and presents a world of community, nature and spiritual values that successfully, albeit barely, struggles to survive such destruction. That world seems to be a different one, with strange people and places; yet at the same time, it is also recognizably ours. And because the processes of rampant modernization - economic, political, cultural - are now truly global, the potential appeal and relevance of Tolkien's attack and alternative are also effectively universal. This is a social and historical development; there is nothing necessarily mystical about it. 

But his universality comes about in another way, too. For the very terms of his critique are mythic; after all, that is ultimately the most (and perhaps even only) effective way to counter a worldview which is rigidly rationalistic and scientistic. And there is literally nowhere in the world without some native tradition of a mythical way of relating to the world in which it is alive and saturated with spiritual meaning - enchanted, in a word. Those traditions may be deeply buried, but - like the gods they embody - they can still be revived by recognition."

This book was published in 1997, and even back then he was speaking of "re-enchantment". There's a lot of talk about this: that, in a nutshell, we have lost the ability to take true delight in the world, and we need to re-enchant our way of seeing things, like they did in the Middle Ages. 

There is an article in Plough by Paul Kingsnorth about this very thing, speaking about his new book, Against the Machine: "Its modus operandi is the abolition of all borders, boundaries, categories, essences, and truths: the uprooting of all previous ways of living in the name of pure individualism and perfect subjectivity. Its endgame is the replacement of nature with technology, in order to facilitate total control over a totally human world."

According to Patrick Curry, the popularity of the Tolkien books shows that we really don't want a world like that, whether we realize it in this way or not. 

Brothers and sisters: We speak a wisdom to those who are mature, not a wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather, we speak God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew; for, if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory,,,, For the Spirit scrutinizes everything, even the depths of God.

 -  1 Corinthians 2:6-10 

crow on the shed

I laughed

 When I want to wash my face, I shut the bathroom door to keep Daisy out; she will come in when the faucet turns on and get in the way. Sometimes, I don't shut it, and then have to put her out of the room. Last night, rather late, I went in and didn't bother. Of course she came in. I didn't put her out, either, thinking what the heck. So I ran the water to let it heat up, and she was all over the sink. I soaped up my face, while she, below my hands, roamed around the edges, peering into the water. And I started laughing. It was entirely ridiculous, me, trying to get at the running water, and Daisy, oblivious to my purposes, trying to study the thing that fascinates her above all else. It was a good laugh.

beyond our limits

 "Faith... is a great cannon which hurls man out beyond the boundaries of the universe into the world of the infinite. It is not to be conceived of as something mild, sweetly enfeebling. Rather it must be thought of in terms of strength, of an explosion which has broken down the walls of the world, of a storming of nature by the hosts of heaven that man might be released from the limitations of his humanity. It grants to man the freedom by which he can surpass not only the limits of the present, of the past, of space, of material things, but even the limits of all nature. By it his mind walks into the limitlessness of God."

                                                                           -  Fr. Walter Farrell, from Magnificat, February 2026

keeping warm

 Snow was predicted last night and all day today, and by morning light, everything looked fresh. Then around eight, visibility dropped and the wind was blowing it all around - I wondered if they'd be wrong again about the amounts, but it must have been a squall; it settled back into a light snow and ended mid-afternoon. But it's cold, and windy.

We throw out timothy hay, cracked corn, carrots, peanuts. The mourning doves seemed to like the corn this afternoon. 

I'd bought two large plastic bins for organizing the Christmas things, and today I can say it's done - everything is sensibly arranged in the bins and a couple of shoe boxes. Much better than it was, and I feel light as a feather! I'm surprised at how relieved I feel to have that done. By using the bins, I got a lot out of the closet, consolidated a few smaller boxes, and things that I like to group together are stored together - like it should have been all along!

Daisy sitting under the corner cabinet to warm up near the heaters

Peter Wohlleben, who wrote The Hidden Life of Trees, also has written The Inner Life of Animals; I just finished it. I liked some parts better than others, but many things were interesting. Here, he explains why moths fly around lights:

"Moths... rely on the moon when they want to fly in a straight line. For example, when the moon is at its height and they want to fly west, all they have to do is keep the moon to their left. But little moths can't tell the difference between the moon and a cozy lamp adding a decorative touch to a garden at night. Now, as the tiny winged wanderer glides past the tulips and the roses, it immediately gets turned around. The brightest light at night must be the moon, mustn't it? And so it tries to keep this new moon to its left, but the lamp is unfortunately not 238,900 miles but only a few yards away. If the moth keeps flying in a straight line, the "moon" appears behind it, and it seems to the moth that it must have flown in a circle. And so the insect pilot corrects its course to the left to, as it thinks, continue flying straight ahead. This makes the "moon" appear on the correct side, but what's really happening is that the moth is flying in circles around the light. The spiraling flight takes the moth ever closer to the light until it finally end up at the center. If the artificial moon is a candle, there's a brief "puff", and the moth's life is snuffed out."

you're okay

 A grandfather brought in his little one to the library today - he was so good with her; he seemed to have a childlike quality of his own that I believe made it easy for him. One of the columns in the children’s department is decorated as a snowman, with hat, "carrot" nose, etc. She would pass by it and say "hi" very earnestly. She noticed the hat, and so he pointed out all the other parts to the snowman. Of course, I've heard many adults doing the same sort of thing with children, but the sense of wonder seemed more genuine in him - I guess that's a judgment on my part. Oh, well, maybe it is. 

And when it was time to go and she was screaming a little, he said, you're okay, you're okay,* and brought her back to the snowman. He distracted her gently by pointing out it's features. Without exasperation. This child is fortunate.

*I say this to Orphan Annie when she seems bothered by something. 

in this world of strife

 Father almighty, you bring peace to those who trust in you.
Make us your ambassadors of peace in this world of strife,
that all peoples may come to know the joy and harmony found in loving you.
Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

- from Magnificat, February 2026

hopefulness

 There are icicles everywhere. Riding along, you see scads of them, hanging on almost every building. I don't know why some buildings don't have them. It's very cold all the time, but when the sun is bright, I guess there is some melting, because these things are lengthening by the day.

I had finished knitting the hand warmers and gave them to my friend, but I'm knitting another pair with the same yarn. She wears them over thin knitted gloves, and the basic bind-off I use doesn't have any give, really - they could be a little less tight at the opening, and since I have more of the yarn, and they're easy to make, I'm knitting another pair with a different bind-off, and it does seem better. I have a book that's just cast-ons and bind-offs, and it's very handy. Sometimes you buy books you think it would be good to have, and they just accumulate and you wonder why you bought them, but I'm happy I bought this one. 

A year ago, I received a book of Coleridge's poems, which I'd asked for, but they haven't really clicked with me. I enjoyed Malcolm Guite's Mariner, so I guess I'm more interested in the man than in his poetry. But I do like this one which I read today:

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair -
The bees are stirring - birds are on the wing -
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, o ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.

- Work Without Hope, composed Feb 21st, 1825

And we know from Emily Dickinson, don't we, that hope's the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

it's just Daisy

 I realized Daisy wasn't in the basement (where she spends so much time, watching at ground level all the activity at the feeder). She wasn't on my bed, or my brother's, or in the living room or with Annie. Maybe she was under some furniture, near a heater. But it came to me to check the closets.

She was in the bathroom/linen closet, curled up in the ironing bin. How long was she there? Maybe an hour. Did she scratch at the door? No. Was she agitated at being closed in? No, she was cozily resting (maybe sleeping) in there.

The way she quietly slips in when we open a door, when she comes out of nowhere and we don't see her - well, it's just Daisy.

Of course I have to wash those red napkins again.

hanging on

 Well, the storm is hanging on; they changed the snow's end time to eleven. So, it's still going. Inside, I am hanging on to my wintry placemats. I was about to put them away, but, in view of the weather....... well, they are nice and cheery,

Meanwhile, there's some talk of another snowfall next weekend, and I even saw the word "blizzard" mentioned.

frost and cold

 

O ye frost and cold, bless the Lord;
praise and exalt him above all forever.

O ye ice and snow, bless the Lord;
praise and exalt him above all forever.

-  Daniel 3:69,70

big snow coming

 The thermometer outside my window says it's ten degrees, and it's going to get colder. It will be very cold for a few days, but that isn't the main event: the very big storm that's crossing the country will bring us a foot of snow, maybe a foot-and-a-half, tomorrow and Monday.

Tuesday evening I started to get that feeling of a cold coming on; it progressed, and I ended up missing a day of work. Today, I got caught up a little with some of the food that's been waiting in the fridge: I cooked a chicken for tomorrow's dinner, a meatloaf for the freezer, a small batch of granola and some energy bites for myself. 

The furnace has been going on all day. A foot of snow is not a huge amount - the hullabaloo is mainly over two things: the size of the storm, which is big enough to cover much of this large nation, and the ice that so many in the south will get. That will cause problems, if it hasn't already. I don't think we're going to get any.

I took so many pretty pictures of the last snowfall; I wonder how long it will take for my enthusiasm to wane, if it ends up a snowy winter?

“In the morning you will see

 

the glory of the Lord.”   -   Exodus 16:7

waiting to get in

 "At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Someday, God willing, we shall get in."

                                                          -  C.S. Lewis, from The Weight of Glory

Found in Plough magazine, Winter 2026

scenes from a snowy morning

 

evolution of a snowy day

 They predicted snow all day today, starting at five o'clock. Then they said it would snow 'til three. There was a forty-four percent chance of a dusting to one inch. A forty-two percent chance of one to three inches. The former, because it was the larger percentage, was highlighted. 

I woke up at seven, and the snow had already covered most of the ground, and was nestling in the bushes.

I was hoping the forty-two percent camp would prevail. 

Around mid-morning I saw a lighter sky, and got nervous; was the sun going to break through already? But it got grayer again.

Did you ever notice that snow gives everything a Currier and Ives sort of look? 

Anyway, like I said, it was supposed to stop by three, but before that it stepped up the pace and the flakes got bigger and started to stick to the trees. More than a dusting, I would say!

It improved the look of my garland on the fence.

It's rather sparse,

We went grocery shopping in the wonderland. 

What is it about winter evenings, before the dark, especially in the snow, with a light in a neighboring window to contrast with all the coolness?

Did I mention it was supposed to turn to rain at the end? It didn't.

birds and branches

 We're going to have snow Saturday. I'm looking forward to it, though it won't be much.

Today there was sun, and I slipped outside an hour before dark, for some change of air. I had seen a gardening youtuber talk about what wild rabbits like to eat in winter. Apple branches, mostly, but also pear and crabapple. So I went around to look at our trees, thinking about prunings I could leave for them now and then, especially when there's snow cover. I cut a couple of crabapple twigs and left them where I think they live. The tree is full of crabapples, and last year Clare mentioned that she had a better crop when she removed them herself, so, I think I'll do that. I can leave them on the ground for the creatures. 

We've had three of these tall arbor vitaes near the garden, and they' were so big; last year my brother said he'd have to take one or two down. Well, nature seems to have done it for him.

We realized a couple of weeks ago that two came down at some point. Roots and all, just up and out. I haven't pushed the upright one to see if it's going to be next. 

Sometimes my co-workers will say they saw a cardinal at their feeder, and they're all excited. We see them every day! Today I saw an unfamiliar bird out my bedroom window; he was with the sparrows and finches, and about the same small size. I got a good look at him via my camera zoom, and then took a little film.

Then I looked him up. He is a downy woodpecker, apparently very common in our state! But I've never seen one.

"In the woodland I manage, we use the birds' passion for collecting to plant young deciduous trees in the monocultures of old spruce plantations. This is how it works. We put seed trays on posts and fill them with acorns and beechnuts. Jays love to come and help themselves, and they distribute their booty in the soil hundreds of yards in every direction. It's a win-win situation. We get precious new stands of deciduous trees in the woodland, and the jays get huge quantities of winter provisions with very little effort."

                                          -  Peter Wohlleben, The Inner Life of Animals

I can picture this entirely! When the blue jays come to our feeder, they throw seed right and left. A jay must be a jay, must be a jay.

finishing up with the holidays

 Our snow has been gone for a while; the temperatures are in the forties - a January thaw, I guess. There may be a snowstorm brewing for Thursday, but it's too soon to know any of the "ifs": if the storm develops, if it comes our way or goes another. 

I sewed up two panels of red plaid fabric, lined, and clipped them up in the bathroom for curtains. 

I like the sort-of rustic air of plaid, and I hung this wooden ornament on the rod, between the panels. 

I heard mention of The 39 Steps, by John Buchan, on a podcast, so I got a copy of it. A short book, written in 1915, it kept me turning the pages. A man-on-the-run story, written in that very matter of fact style that was more common - well, I was going to say "back then", but I was thinking of the style of Raymond Chandler, and he came later. I mean that plain way of just describing everything without all the emotionalism which saturates the stories of our own day. It's rather refreshing for a change, and I'm going to try the next in the series, called Greenmantle. 

I've been putting away some of the more obviously Christmasy things, but it all takes time. I am in no rush to get rid of Christmas. In recent years, we've had our holiday party afterward, because it's easier to relax and take the time for it. So, I got together with my co-workers the other day and it was very nice. To see young men enjoying the company of older guys and vice versa - it was great. We have a good group.

bumping into Thomas Traherne

I've come across mention of Thomas Traherne a couple of times lately and wonder if I should get some of his writings.

 "Principles are like a seed in the ground; they must be continually visited with heavenly influences or else your life will be a barren field."

                                             -  Thomas Traherne