Pacific Northwest Spring

I spent the weekend gardening. We're having a dry spell right now with brilliant blue skies and day-time temps reaching a high of 65F. If you read gardening books about the West Coast, you will see some gardeners referring to late January as the "Pacific Northwest Spring." Others call it a "false Spring" because there is no guarantee that it won't become wintry again in the next few months. It snowed last April and our nights are still frosty.

But there is no denying that our "Pacific Northwest Spring" has sprung. All the deciduous trees such as the maples, oaks, alders and cascaras, the three types of native Pacific willow, the dogwoods, cottonwoods and all my fruit trees have put out tiny new buds. This means it's my last chance to move any trees that need to be transplanted. So I spent the weekend moving the "mistakes" I've made during the past three years.

Two years ago I planted a fig-tree in the orchard with the apples, pears, peaches, apricots and cherries but its fruit never ripened. Figs need more heat than the other fruit. So we dug up the fig-tree and moved it into a southwest corner of the house where the sunlight is focussed most fiercely. Then we planted a new walnut in the hole left by the fig-tree.

The biggest job was digging up a vine-maple which was one of the first trees that I planted when I moved here. A year ago we decided to put an ornamental pond (with a fountain) in the front yard to greet visitors. The maple was in the wrong place and would have shed leaves into the pond and it made it hard for visitors to turn cars around in the driveway. I should have moved it last winter but my sister was visiting and, by the time she left, it was too late to move it.

It took hours to dig a two foot deep moat around the maple and then carefully loosen the roots. The best place for the maple was occupied by a ceanothus (California lilac) so we had to move that. We also ended up moving three other ceanothuses to a sunnier and drier location.

Ceanothus, like most Pacific native plants, cannot stand soggy roots. In fact they thrive in semi-arid conditions and have developed a symbiotic relationship with a bacterium that lives in its roots and helps it to absorb water from seemingly dry soil. Soggy soil kills this bacterium and the plant dies.

This is the way that three of the the ceanothus will look when they bloom from late Spring to early Fall. I have five ceanothuses: white, pink, pale blue, lavender and purple.
















































And here are some trees for gardeners of the male persuasion. (No, these are not my trees. I found these pics in the days before I used to keep track of "where.") Tree-hugging will take on a whole new connotation.

Different strokes for different folks

A stroke is basically a blockage in the brain caused by perfusion (bleeding - usually from an artery but sometimes from a vein) into the brain. Oxygen is cut off from the part of the brain that is affected by the perfusion and brain cells start to die. It is the third leading cause of death and the leading cause of adult disability in the United States.

There are two major categories of strokes: ischemic and hemorrhagic. In an ischemic stroke, a blood vessel becomes blocked and the blood supply to part of the brain is cut off. Ischemic strokes are usually caused either by a thrombosis or embolism. A thrombus is a blood clot. If the clot breaks off, it's called an embolus. 80% of strokes are ischemic. Most ischemic strokes are not fatal but cause permanent brain damage and subsequent paralysis.

The other major category of stroke is the hemorrhagic stroke that occurs when a blood vessel in the brain ruptures and bleeds into the brain. Like ischemic strokes, hemorrhagic strokes interrupt the brain's blood supply because the bleeding vessel can no longer carry the blood to its target tissue. If the bleeding continues, it causes increased pressure on brain tissue and blocks the blood flow into the brain. For this reason hemorrhagic strokes are more dangerous than ischemic strokes and are often fatal.

Ischemic strokes can be treated with clot-busting drugs like TPA which cannot be used for hemorrhagic strokes because they will cause more bleeding. So the first thing that doctors are supposed to do is a CAT-scan to rule out hemorrhagic stroke.

The symptoms of stroke depend on the type of stroke and the area of the brain affected. In most cases, the symptoms affect only one side of the body. Severe paralysis can last anywhere from a few days to several months and partial paralysis can be permanent but stroke victims can continue to improve over the years. Complete recovery is unusual but not impossible. Most stroke victims will recover to some extent.

In July of 2003 I had a hemorrhagic stroke. The biggest causes of my stroke were that I had been a smoker for many years and had high blood-pressure but a whole string of nasty events led up to it. Some may have contributed and others may have just been coincidental. All I know is that it was a pretty traumatic time leading up to the stroke.

Earlier that year I had to stop taking my blood-pressure medication because it made me feel like a zombie and because I was allergic to it - it caused swelling and itching on my hands and scalp. I knew that I could not discontinue it suddenly because strokes often occur when you do, so I tapered it off over a period of a few months but that may have still been a factor in my stroke.

A few weeks before the stroke I had to have a toenail removed from a big toe. I had crushed the bones in the toe when I slipped off a wet rock while walking the dogs on the beach. I had not bothered to get it fixed at the time because I only go to doctors when I'm really sick or dying. The toenail had grown out deformed and was causing me a lot of pain. Usually a toenail can be removed with a couple of injections of local anesthetic into the toe but the doctor could not get my toe numb with a couple of shots and had to give me 24 shots before it was finally numb enough to cut into. Those shots may have been a factor.

Then, about a week before the stroke, our next-door neighbor in San Francisco murdered his nine year old son and then killed himself. (One day I'll tell that story.) This was probably the most horrific thing to ever happen in my life as I had known the child since he was a baby. It was almost like having a member of my own family murdered.

Soon afterwards one of the commie customers in my restaurant said to me one night: "I'm so glad that so many soldiers are being killed in Iraq because the more body bags means less chance that the fascist Bush will be re-elected." This was the worst thing that any of my commie customers had ever said to me and I felt as if I had been stabbed in the heart.

The morning before the stroke I had to have a tooth pulled out. I had just had it root-canalled and crowned the day before but it flaired up. I knew that second root-canals usually don't work because I'd had a second unsuccessful root-canal on another tooth before. The pain was so excrutiating that I told the dentist to pull it out despite the fact that I had just spent $2,000 for the root-canal and $1,500 for the gold crown. (It was so expensive because it was a big molar.) Again the numbing shots did not work (dentists are always amazed at how many shots I need) and it was a nasty experience as it was a big tooth with deep roots and hard to pull out. The dentist gave me some Vicodin for the pain.

That night after dinner I started getting a searing headache over my right eye and felt nauseous. I figured it was the Vicodin because codeine-derived drugs usually give me headaches and upset my stomach. I was chatting on a political Internet forum at the time and started noticing that my depth perception was a bit off. I would go to type but my hand would miss the keyboard. Again I figured it was because of the Vicodin.

Then some commie bitch on the forum said to me that our soldiers were desserting by the thousands in Iraq. I became extremely angry and demanded that she link to a source to back up her assertion. I found that I could not type and had to give up in frustration. I decided to call it quits but promised myself that I would destroy the bitch in public the next day. By now the ache above my eye felt like a nail being driven into my head so I went to bed.

The next morning I woke up and started to jump out of bed immediately as I do every morning but, as soon as I stood up, I collapsed on the floor because my left leg was paralyzed. I started to crawl across my bedroom floor to get to Chas' room to ask him for help. That's when I realized that my left arm was also paralyzed. I knew immediately that it was a stroke. I could barely talk but I managed to tell Chas to get me to the hospital quickly.

At the hospital, they were about to give me the usual clot-busting drug, TPA, but I refused since I do not trust it. Eventhough they had been using it for over ten years, it was (and still is) a controversial drug and, having been in the drug business for so long, I don't take any drugs if I can help it. Thank God that I did refuse it because it turned out that the CAT-scan showed that I had had a hemorrhagic stroke and the TPA would have killed me. Of course they should have done a CAT-scan first.

I was still in the emergency room waiting for them to move me to the ICU. The bed next door was separated from mine by only a curtain. The patient there was a woman who had two other women and a bunch of howling kids visiting her. The women were talking loudly and angrily. Every second word was "motherfucker." I was in an extremely sensitive and irritable state of mind and their loudness and coarseness made me feel like they were making me even sicker. I told Chas to get the doctor and check me out.

It took a while to convince the doctor to let me go home. He told me that I could die. I told him that I would prefer to die in the peace of my own home rather than in the hell created by the vulgar sub-humans in the next bed.

Obviously I survived but I had to shut down my restaurant because I could no longer cook. I could not drive for a long time afterwards and had to use a cane to walk. My brain (thoughts and speech) recovered most quickly probably because I forced myself to get onto that Internet forum and put that commie bitch in her place as soon as I could type a few words.

Later I found out that reading and writing are the best things for stroke victims to do to get their brains functioning again. It took about six months before I felt my brain starting to work well again but, as my son said to me: "You're no longer a genius. Now you're just a smart aleck." Most of my paralysis has worn off over the past 3 and a half years since the stroke but my left leg and arm are still weaker and less reliable than they used to be before the stroke.

What triggered off my rememberance of the stroke was that last Friday I woke up feeling weak and trembling. Then I noticed that the paralysis had returned on my left side. Fortunately it was only a TIA (mini stroke) and I was fine the next day.

Here's a stroke joke. Three old ladies were sitting on a park bench when a flasher walked up to them and exposed his willie to them. The first old lady had a big stroke. The second old lady had a small stroke but the third old lady wouldn't touch it at all.

I'm a RINO?

Three times in the past month or so I have been told by bloggers with whom I've disagreed that I don't belong in the Republican Party. One of them told me that I'm a RINO (Republican in Name Only) and two others told me that I should get out of the GOP and join the Libertarian Party. All of these bloggers have one thing in common: they are conservative Christians.

Two of these bloggers told me that "secular conservatives" such as me do not belong in the GOP because I am not a Christian. Okay, I am not a Christian by religion but I am a Christian culturally and philosophically. Maybe that makes me a CINO (Christian in Name Only) but I'm not a RINO.



Yes, I call myself a "libertarian Republican." So did Goldwater and Reagan. In fact most Republicans in the West are libertarian with a small "l" but we are still loyal Republicans and would not dream of joining the Libertarian Party because it is just a wee bit too kooky for us. Many Libertarians are unpatriotic peaceniks and are often anti-American. What makes us small "l" libertarians different from big "L" Libertarians is that we are patriotic and believe in a strong and unapologetic foreign policy including using our military might against the enemies of freedom when necessary.

Okay, so I don't agree with the War on Drugs but lots of conservatives don't. And I don't agree with amending the Constitution to ban gay marriage. Actually I don't agree with amending the Constitution at all. Look what the Prohibition amendment did for us - we had to reverse that amendment with another amendment. The Constitution is there to enumerate our rights not to limit our freedom. States can deal (and have) with the gay marriage problem quite well on their own. In fact, to me being a true conservative means keeping the Federal government from interfering with States as much as possible.

I sometimes wonder how much practical experience some conservative bloggers have had in actual politicking. I've been actively involved in party politics since I was 18 and first able to vote - canvassing for candidates, resolving party civil wars and reaching compromises without compromising one's integrity. That's politics. It's about creating a winning team of individuals not forcing everyone to toe the party line. Leave that to the Democrats. They do it so much better.

I'll get into this in more detail later but I'll end right now by saying that I am willing to compromise and work with conservative Christians because I share with them what I regard as the most important values: patriotism, fiscal responsibility, a healthy distrust of big government, a dislike of socialism and a belief in self-reliance and capitalism as the basis of individual freedom.

G. K. Chesterton - "Prince of Paradox"

When I lived in a monastery for two years, we had to study all the Catholic writers. My literature teacher, Brother Marcellin, was a devotee of Chesterton and, through him, I also grew to love Chesterton who is known among Catholics as the "Prince of Paradox."

Chesterton (1874- 1936) is probably most famous for his "Father Brown" mystery stories but he actually wrote a lot of other stuff: 80 books, hundreds of poems, 200 short stories, 4,000 essays and several plays as well as the "Father Brown" mysteries which were written as short stories.

In 1954 a film (released in the USA as "The Detective") starred Alec Guinness as Father Brown. (Supposedly the experience of playing the character of Father Brown inspired Guinness's conversion to Catholicism.) In 1974 the BBC made a TV series of the Father Brown stories.

I think my main attraction to Chesterton was that he, like me, was also a convert to Catholicism. He became a Catholic in 1922 when he was already 48 but he had been a devout Christian long before he joined the Catholic church and Christian themes occur in most of his writings. Chesterton's book, "The Everlasting Man," prompted C. S. Lewis's conversion to Christianity.

Chesterton converted to Catholicism because of his close friendship with the poet and essayist, Hilaire Belloc. Belloc and Chesterton were accused of being anti-Semitic. Chesterton admitted that he believed that there was a "Jewish Problem" in Europe; that the Jews kept themselves seperate from the European nations in which they lived. He suggested the formation of a Jewish homeland as a solution, and was later invited to Palestine by the Zionists who saw him as an ally in their dream to create Israel.

In 1934, after the Nazi party took power in Germany he wrote: "In our early days Hilaire Belloc and myself were accused of being uncompromising Anti-Semites. Today, although I still think there is a Jewish problem, I am appalled by the Hitlerite atrocities. They have absolutely no reason or logic behind them. It is quite obviously the expedient of a man who has been driven to seeking a scapegoat, and has found with relief the most famous scapegoat in European history, the Jewish people."

Chesterton knew all the famous writers of his time. Most of them like H.G. Wells and G.B. Shaw were socialists and, while he was friendly with them, he did not hesitate to criticize their politics and philosophies.

He said of his fellow convert to Catholicism, Oscar Wilde: "The lesson of the pessimistic pleasure-seeker was taught by the very powerful and very desolate philosophy of Oscar Wilde. It is the carpe diem religion; but the carpe diem religion is not the religion of happy people, but of very unhappy people. Great joy does not gather the rosebuds while it may; its eyes are fixed on the immortal rose which Dante saw."

He said of the socialist vegetarian playwright, George Bernard Shaw: "After belabouring a great many people for a great many years for being unprogressive, Mr. Shaw has discovered, with characteristic sense, that it is very doubtful whether any existing human being with two legs can be progressive at all. Having come to doubt whether humanity can be combined with progress, most people, easily pleased, would have elected to abandon progress and remain with humanity. Mr. Shaw, not being easily pleased, decides to throw over humanity with all its limitations and go in for progress for its own sake. If man, as we know him, is incapable of the philosophy of progress, Mr. Shaw asks, not for a new kind of philosophy, but for a new kind of man. It is rather as if a nurse had tried a rather bitter food for some years on a baby, and on discovering that it was not suitable, should not throw away the food and ask for a new food, but throw the baby out of window, and ask for a new baby."

He said of the idiotic idealists, Tolstoy and Nietzsche: "The wild worship of lawlessness and the materialist worship of law end in the same void. Nietzsche scales staggering mountains, but he turns up ultimately in Tibet. He sits down beside Tolstoy in the land of nothing and Nirvana. They are both helpless — one because he must not grasp anything, and the other because he must not let go of anything. The Tolstoyan’s will is frozen by a Buddhist instinct that all special actions are evil. But the Nietzscheite’s will is quite equally frozen by his view that all special actions are good; for if all special actions are good, none of them are special. They stand at the crossroads, and one hates all the roads and the other likes all the roads. The result is — well, some things are not hard to calculate. They stand at the cross-roads...."

Here are a few of my favorite Chesterton quotes:

"The whole modern world has divided itself into Conservatives and Progressives. The business of Progressives is to go on making mistakes. The business of the Conservatives is to prevent the mistakes from being corrected."

"The act of defending any of the cardinal virtues has today all the exhilaration of a vice."

"A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it."

"The person who is really in revolt is the optimist, who generally lives and dies in a desperate and suicidal effort to persuade other people how good they are."

"Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashions."

"Among the rich you will never find a really generous man even by accident. They may give their money away, but they will never give themselves away; they are egotistic, secretive, dry as old bones. To be smart enough to get all that money you must be dull enough to want it."

"I believe what really happens in history is this: the old man is always wrong; and the young people are always wrong about what is wrong with him. The practical form it takes is this: that, while the old man may stand by some stupid custom, the young man always attacks it with some theory that turns out to be equally stupid."

"The free man owns himself. He can damage himself with either eating or drinking; he can ruin himself with gambling. If he does he is certainly a damn fool, and he might possibly be a damned soul; but if he may not, he is not a free man any more than a dog."

"The reformer is always right about what is wrong. He is generally wrong about what is right."

I could go on forever but I won't. That was just to show you why he was known as the "Prince of Paradox."

Bush's health insurance plan

On Tuesday Bush will introduce a plan to help expand health insurance coverage to some of the 47 million uninsured. The plan calls for taxing employer-provided health insurance that exceeds $15,000 per year for a family (or $7,500 for an individual.) So, if a family receives $16,000 worth of employer-provided health insurance per year, they would pay taxes on $1,000 - about $250. This tax revenue would then offset a tax break that would be given to those who buy their own insurance. All privately-bought insurance of $12,000 per family (or $6,000 per individual) would be tax deductibe. The $12,000 tax break would apply even if the insurance costs less.

I'm a selfish capitalist piggy so the first way I looked at this plan is: "How will it affect me?"

Right now I buy health insurance through my business. It is a tax-deductible expense on my LLC's business tax returns but is then counted as taxable "income" on my personal tax. My premium is about $4,000 per year. Under Bush's proposal, I will end up having $6,000 of income sheltered and will end up paying no taxes on $2,000 of my income. That's about $500 less in taxes per year.

The fact is that only a very small number of people will actually be taxed. Only high-payed execs get employer-provided health insurance that costs more than $7,500 per year per individual. A premium of $10,000 per year buys almost perfect health insurance - no deductibles, no co-pays and 100% coverage for everything. So a few fat cats with million dollar salaries will end up paying taxes on $2,500 per year (about $600) for "no out of pocket expenses" insurance.

Eventhough I pay about $4,000 a year for my health insurance, there are other costs. I have a deductible of $1,500 and am only covered for 80% of all treatment up to $3,500 "out of pocket expenses." That means my total health-related costs are $9,000. If Bush's plan is adopted, I will probably increase my insurance premium to $6,000 in order to decrease my "out of pocket expenses."

The fact is that my bottom line is hardly affected at all. No matter how you juggle it, you still have to find the money to pay for the insurance in the first place. The tax break for those who buy their own insurance is some incentive for enterprising freelancers and self-employed folks to buy insurance but it won't do a thing for those who can't afford to buy insurance in the first place.

It's not a bad plan - at least in does not get bureaucrats involved in the health insurance business - but I doubt if the increased revenue from taxing a few hundred- thousand fat cats' insurance will cover the costs of the tax breaks given to the rest of us. How will we pay for it? More deficit spending? More federal bonds sold to the Chinese government?

Charlie Rangel of course immediately condemned Bush's proposal.

We need more businessmen in DC who know how to balance budgets not more aristocrats, trust fund bums and heirs to a fortunes who have never had to tightened their belts once in their lives.

Waves

I spent most of my first 21 years living beside the Indian Ocean. Then I started living in big cities and didn't live next to the ocean until 14 years ago when I bought a house near Ocean Beach in San Francisco. Living on the North Pacific Ocean is very different from living on the Indian Ocean but, in both cases, the weather moves in from the sea and the sound of the surf changes according to the weather.

I like to sit on my rocking chair on the verandah after dinner and listen to the waves breaking on the beach. High-pressure systems becalm the ocean and, on clear nights, the surf breaks gently on the shore. But you can tell when a storm is about to arrive because low-pressure systems stir up the ocean and the approaching storm sucks air into its low-pressure center and the resulting winds whip the waves into crashing breakers. Sometimes the change is so dramatic that you'll notice the increasing roar of the surf just moments before the rain arrives.

Weather is all about atmospheric waves. In the northern hemisphere wind circulates around low-pressure systems in a counter-clockwise direction and around high-pressure systems in a clockwise direction so the polar jet stream dips south around low pressure and then swings back north over the top of high pressure. The alternating high-pressure and low-pressure systems move from west to east. The jetstream undulates under and over these systems and carries waves of weather from the West Coast across the USA.

















The Pacific Ocean is seldom completely calm. Even on sunny days it can be rough and it is always dangerous.










































































































Sometimes an off-shore wind blows from east to west and creates huge breakers which are much sought after by surfers.


































Once the storm has passed, the ocean calms down again.



















"Stormy Sea" by Casay.



















Fractal art called "Wave" by an unknown artist.



















Hokusai's famous "Great Wave."

















Not only the ocean and the weather have waves; human affairs do too. I think it's because I tend to see things in "waves" that makes me not a very good blogger. I'm more interested in political history than day-to-day politics. I prefer looking at the big picture to concentrating on current affairs. Most of the political blogging that I do seems like gossip after a day or so. That's why I prefer observing the weather and watching the slow changes of seasons - and gardening. Maybe this Spring, I'll spend more time gardening and less time blogging.

Not that I don't enjoy gossip. I do but I've never been very good at doing it although I'm really good at listening to it - and even eliciting it.

Murder most fowl

From RWCNN*

Today four more vicious gang rapists were executed. The surviving thugs cried "Fowl!" when they saw the heads of their fellow criminals being decapitated.

* Robin's Wood Chicken News Network

But seriously, the bantam cocks are a problem as they gang rape the hens, rip their feathers out and try to pull their combs off leaving the ladies all bloody and dishevelled. We tried eating a couple of the bantam cocks but they're as tough as old boots. However the dogs love raw chicken. Right now they're busy eating the feet, heads and guts and licking the blood off the wood-stump execution block.

BTW raw chicken bones are good for dogs. Cooked chicken bones are no good for dogs as they splinter. Cooked fat is no good for dogs either but raw fat is wonderful winter fare for them. Since we started feeding our dogs only raw meat about ten years ago, they have not had any health problems.

A portrait of the survivors. Yes, I know they're awfully pretty and are a lot of fun especially when they dance around fighting each other like kick-boxers on crack but the problems that they caused outweighed the pleasure of their company. May the deceased rest in pieces.

More naked chicks and some cocks, pussies and ducks in the snow at sunset

Yesterday the temp went up to 47F and the snow started thawing. These pics were taken at sunset - my favorite time of day to sit on the front verandah when the house glows golden in the rays of the setting sun.



















Daffy and Dilly, the Indian runner-ducks, running around naked in the melting snow.



















They are quite upset that the snow killed off their favorite food, slugs.



















Swankie, the tomcat, sitting on the septic tank in the sunset.



















The sun setting over the Pacific Ocean.



















A naked chick and some bantam cocks heading home for the night.



















Smudgie, the female pussy, posing seductively on the verandah in the sunset.



















Swankie and Smudgie are the only cats I've ever known who like snow. They also are indifferent to rain - maybe because they were born and raised in Oregon and come from a long line of Oregon cats with webbed feet. Just kidding. They're also the only cats I've ever gotten to like. That's probably because they don't live in the house. They are not pampered pets but working barn cats whose job is to kill the rodents who come to steal the livestock feed. To me, cats are not civilized enough to live in the house with humans. They get arrogant and demanding and start taking advantage of us. They are so much nicer when you treat them as livestock instead of pets and I have grown very fond of these two felines.

Sunshine and snow

The snow is still on the ground in spite of the sunny days we have had since Friday. That's because the day-time temps haven't gotten above the low 40s for a few minutes each afternoon and the night-time temps are still in the 20s.

As you can see from these pics taken yesterday, the snow has melted off most of the trees.



















The beginning of the Trillium Trail - socalled because I transplanted trilliums along it that I had found deep in the forest.



















The Trillium Trail winds for about a half a mile down the hill towards the ocean. At the bottom is a valley where the north creek and south creek meet and merge. It was this trail through the forest that made me fall in love with and buy this piece of land.



















Looking back at the house from the start of the trail.



















Looking back at the house from further into the trail. We take the dogs for walks down this trail and Smudgie always follows. She thinks she's a dog.



















The bantams love sitting on these steps in the sunshine because they are south-facing and warm.



















Looking back at the same steps - naked chicks in the snow.



















The front gate of Robin's Wood - the same gate as in my header pic.



Well, the sun's coming up on another perfect day in paradise.

Some naked chicks for Saturday

From Chas' Farm Report:

Twelve Dwarf Gang-Bangers Get Death Sentence



The situation with 13 Brides for 12 Brothers has not worked out well. The large females ignore the small males. As a result, the males now stalk the females as a group, focus on one and isolate her, then badger her and force her to submit.

We're solving the problem by recycling the 12 brothers into dog food:




The rest of the farm report is here.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

We're having a real winter here - including frozen waterpipes. Actually not pipes - they are well-insulated - but the pressure regulating valve on the well has frozen two nights in a row and Andy has had to thaw out the valve with a blowtorch each morning before we could get water out of the faucets. We do not have a heated well-house. Top priority project next week is to built a well-house with an electric light inside to warm the well-pumps.

Then we'll be all set for this global warming with the new generator that we bought ourselves for this past Christmas and the wood-stove we got for Christmas the year before. Meantime we'll take our neighbors' advice and wrap the pressure-pump in a blanket with a plastic garbage bag over it tonight.

The people who built this house didn't think they needed a well-house. Mind you they only lived here a few years and had not seen that we can have very cold winters. It has been below 20F for three nights in a row and is expected to be that cold till Monday. This is the third day with snow on the ground. In previous winters it has always thawed by the second day.

Last night I took a walk in the woods. The snow had a crust of ice over it so that it crunched with every footstep. Anybody watching me trudge up and down crunching through the snow would have thougth I was nuts. It was more fun than popping those plastic bubbles that you use for wrapping parcels. And this morning I had to go to the local store before the sun came up. It was magical. The car's headlights lit up the snow which twinkled more brightly than diamonds.

Chas took these pics. It's not easy to capture snow falling. You can see the snowflakes if you click to enlarge.

















































The wind blew the tarp off the boat and now it's full of frozen snow and ice and the ducks' little pond had a two-inch crust of ice on it.

Blogging

In a comment below Peace Moonbeam said:

Patrick I've been noticing the sporadic posting and have wondered if you haven't been a little burned out.

One thing that seems to come along with this regular blogging thing after a while is the pressure (entirely self-imposed) to entertain, and the enjoyable hobby suddenly feels like a job.

Lately I've been feeling the same way. I say post what you want when you feel like it, and if you miss a day (or two or three), so what? Have fun.

Miss Moonbeam is onto something. I never really was a "party person" because it always seemed like hard work to go to a party and then have to entertain people. It's so much more fun to stay at home, veg out and read a good book or listen to some music. But, somewhere along the line, I got used to being the "life and soul of the party." The instant gratification of giving people pleasure is addictive and somehow I got stuck in that role for years until I realized that I wasn't really accomplishing anything and I reverted to being a homebody.

Blogging can be a bit like that. You get to enjoy the feedback. When I first started blogging, I wrote long boring articles about history, philosophy and religion and no-one read them. Then I started getting political. I would post a little snarky tidbit about some leftist moonbat and get a lot of attention. It was fun. The instant gratification was great. Trouble is it got repetitive. Moonbats are moonbats and will always be ridiculous - and totally predictable.

I had my serious say about politics in depth in the first few months of blogging and it's not like I have anything new to say and I'm not going to suddenly change my mind. It's taken me nearly half a century to sort out where I stand politically and there's very little chance that I'll throw out my convictions overnight.

So, yes, I did get burnt out posting about politics and I think I'll take Miss Moonbeam's advice and start having some fun again. We were told as kids never to discuss politics, religion or sex at the dinner table but those are the most fun subjects. Anyway, I've had my say about politics. Should my next topic be religion or sex?

Or maybe I should stick to writing about my insane chickens.

Winter wonderland

Yeah, I know - snow is no big deal to most of you but it's magical to me. I didn't see snow till I moved to England when I was 21. We took these pics before I drove to work this morning. As I was driving to work, the snow started coming down real heavy. Part of my commute is through the Dunes National Park and the dunes were covered in snow. I have never seen snow on the beach before. I wish could have taken pics.

The front gate of Robin's Wood



















Looking south from the front verandah



















The woodshed



















Smoke from the woodstove - the first thing we did this morning was light a fire



















Smudgie the cat's first snowfall - she loved it



















Three of the pullets' first snowfall - they did not like it



















Daffy the duck's first snowfall - he was indifferent to it



















Me in the snow - I love it of course



















Now I better start doing some work. The propane central heating in the RV that I use as an office broke down and I am using a little space-heater. My fingers have finally thawed out but my feet are still freezing.