I Missed It!

Weather Watcher

I missed it.

Last week, on the day of snow and ice and godawful wind (sorry about that, folks, I’d gotten my snow tires off the day before, so the weather gods decided it was a good time to fuck with me – that’s a technical term, by the way – and you all got caught up in it), the love-struck horsie and, this year, his two companions showed up in our yard, on their way back from visiting his beloved, the donkey down the road. And I was in White River, treating one of my few patients needing acupuncture badly enough to be willing to come in, masked, for a treatment. So – I MISSED IT!!

The wind was high and so were their spirits. The Husband, who was here, said they kicked up their legs and raced about in our-yard-that-was-once-a-field, did some dancing, eventually tore over to the neighbor’s house, while The Husband waited for the local policeman to arrive to keep traffic (not a whole lot of that these days, but some, and people don’t expect to meet other traffic, especially hoofed traffic, wandering freely about the roads) away from the bad boys, and The Husband talked to a crying daughter-of-the-horseys’-mom who was trying to figure out how to get them home once she’d located them. 

Three horses are a handful, and The Husband said that the new one was wicked big, so probably a draft horse of some sort. In the meantime, while all the humans ran about in circles, the bad boys headed up the road towards the dirt road that would take them home: just like they did last year. As much fun as is visiting a paramour and racing around the countryside with the wind blowing in your mane and tail, the bad boys know where their oats are kept.

Scilla, mini jonquils, big jonquils

It’s April, it’s spring, and a young beast’s thoughts turn to love. And what better love, I ask you, than that of a doe-eyed, long-eared, raucus-voiced donkey on a day when the winds are just shrieking with excitement? 

In the meantime, my excitement lately is all about waiting for the state of NH to send me an unemployment check. Three – or is it four? – weeks and still counting. Apparently my treating patients in NH and VT is causing all sorts of official We’re Not Sure How To Handle This blocks, added on top of the self-employment thing. In the meantime, I’m getting poorer and poorer, if you can get poorer than no income coming in but plenty of bills presenting themselves regularly.  When I talked to a nice person at the NH Unemployment place in Concord this weekend when I tried to file my weekly horror story (4^th one I’ve spoken to so far, and they’ve all been really nice, really professional, and really confused about me, personally – I love being special) I offered that at least half the people I treat in my VT office are NH residents who work up that way; but it didn’t help. Apparently NH gov’t people have to talk to VT gov’t people and they’re all over-worked and confused because this particular situation doesn’t fit their slots, so, I’m just keeping my fingers crossed. 

Oh, well. Looks like The Husband’s will come through sooner – we’ll see how that goes. And it will disappear into the maws of big business almost as soon as it arrives.

Someone's new hole amongst the thyme and moss

In the meantime again, I’m spending a lot of time looking out on that empty garden and shouting at the weather gods, because it’s still  too too cold to plant stuff – still below freezing at night, most nights. Yesterday, for the first time, I did notice a couple of barely poking the ground shoots from the onion bulbs I planted, what, two or three weeks ago now? And it looks like maybe maybe maybe just maybe the peas I planted then are starting to break the ground. No sign of the fava beans I planted, nor of most the peas and onions, but it’ll be May in only 4 more days and then, b’god, the pea seeds and lettuce seeds are all going out to get grounded.  And the internet has announced that the leek and onion plants and the shallots that I ordered months ago are now on their way, so once they come there will be more in the ground.

The peepers started peeping about a week ago, but even they are quiet at night – too cold, like I said. With their arrival the wood frogs have quieted – not so many out now, their mating season about over. If I weren’t maniacally averse to risking tick infestation I’d like to scoot down  the bank to see if I can locate their eggs; and I’d also like to scoot out the back 40, through the trees into the sunny area by the marsh to see whether the marsh marigolds are in bloom yet – but even the thought of  encountering ticks just discourages all those desires in me. 

Birdhouse in the shop for repairs

When I was out in yesterday’s garden (60 degrees, warm enough for shirtsleeves), weeding - weeding. Weeding. There’s always more weeding, even when nothing is planted; and marking a few spring perennials I always lose track of; and in my head deciding where I will plant those seeds as soon as it’s warmer, I noticed a few flying bugs. The Tall Man had mentioned that they’re out at his house, which is up a hill and so slightly warmer – and yes, they are here, too. Not biting yet, but it’ll be just a matter of days before that’s changed. 

Oh, yay: corona virus, ticks, and blackflies. What more…?

The Historian, who is also a wicked fine gardener, tells me that he’s not seeing his peas yet, either; but he started some cukes inside this winter that have fruits the size of his “2 thumbs put together,” and tomato plants in bloom. He also starts seedlings for transplanting to the garden. I have no place to do that, so direct-seed most things and buy any seedlings I need that The Tall Guy can’t provide. Years ago I had a table with grow-lights set up in the cellar where I started tomatoes and peppers and so on, but then the cats discovered it and found it an excellent bed and toy table. That was the end of that!

Forsythia blooms just starting

As I look out the window today, I see my forsythia has started to bloom – today. Yesterday I noticed the peach trees have lots of new wood and some very small leaf buds – this new variety I planted last year is supposed to be more frost-resistant than the old northern types, and this year that quality may get tested, if things continue as they have. The maples surrounding the field all have a red tinge to them, another sign of spring. The daffodils in the blueberry patch have also bloomed; they’re always later than the mini-jonquils next to the cement-block raised bed wall near the house. Yesterday I planted out, with them, a mini-iris that I’d gotten from the Co-op’s flower section. Irises are also, mostly, spring flowering, and these had dropped their blooms about a week ago. I hope they don’t freeze, and that they live to flower again next spring.

Mini Irises

The Historian tells me he’s living like a hermit, no one comes into his house except his cat. Mom has a similar complaint, but she and one of her buddies met at a picnic table across the street from her house yesterday, to share lunch. They stayed 6 feet away from each other, but could talk and I think it was fun for them. She said the beach, where the picnic tables are, was full of people – it was a lovely day so not surprising – with some little children freezing their toes off in the water. Mom said she also had a nice chat today for the first time with her younger sister, who lives on the coast. One of Aunty’s kids set up her tablet so she and Mom could have face-to-face chats; my brother had previously set up her tablet so she could talk to her young great-grandchildren. Yay, technology!

So I’m going to run outside now before it starts raining, again, and social-distance with the ticks while attempting to take a few photos for you of my forsythia and the lonely garden.

While I’m gone, I hope I don’t miss anything else exciting. When you stay home, you don’t!

For the blog, 26 April 2020: herondragonwrites.blogspot.com

No new updates. I am shamed to admit, at this point, that I’m almost hoping the stay-at-home orders last past May 15 until the end of the month so I can get my garden planted before going back to treatments full time. Sort of hoping. It won’t hurt my feelings, and will probably prove healthier for us all.

And for god’s sake, don’t try drinking or injecting bleach or Lysol; the smartest man in the world is a total idiot. If anyone wasn’t certain of that before, you should be now.

A jungle of rhododendron buds waiting for warmer days

If Only...

Miniature jonquils

If only it were warm enough to plant the garden…

If it were, some of this free time would be welcome. As it is, I – and most self-employed people – are spending more time on computers and phones, trying to find a way to get some of that grant money the Feds have been promising, and getting nowhere. Ditto with state unemployment. It’s frustrating and exhausting and slightly terrifying – maybe not as terrifying as it would be if it were just personal, there are lots of us in the same sinking boat and misery loves company, but there are so many of us in that boat that it’s hard to believe – and is proving true that it can’t be believed – that we’re ever going to see any disaster relief. First of all, the systems aren’t set up for self-employed people, and secondly, the Feds can’t add, so they’re surprised at how many people are in desperate straits and haven’t provided what’s needed.

So here’s what I’ve observed, between snowstorms and wicked windstorms and rain: 

Scilla

The garlic is up, and so are the Egyptian Onions. Scilla and jonquils are up, crocuses have come and gone. Rhubarb nubs are slowly emerging; some of the perennials I planted last fall are showing signs of arising but the markers I used (wooden chopsticks with names written on the flat parts in permanent marker – I thought it was a cheap, clever idea) are completely illegible after a winter buried in snow, so who knows what’s coming? I see signs of fritillaria, and poppies, and drumstick allium. Two weeks ago I planted onion sets – a variety that can be overwintered, so cold ground isn’t problematic – and as an experiment, pea seed and fava beans, both of which prefer cool ground for germination. No signs of them yet. 

Poppy

At the Co-op, pretty much everyone wears a mask, but I saw men who appear to be over 45 wearing their masks below their noses. I’m seeing a lot of pretty cloth masks, and I’m wondering if so many people are capable of sewing their own masks – and where did they get the material – or are they buying them somewhere? In other stores, this week mask-wearing was about 50%. 

A week or so ago, a smallish – so I’m assuming young – raccoon showed up during the late part of the afternoon on our back wart. The Husband whisked the Catman indoors, then we went back out to see what we could see. The ‘coon traveled along the path close to the house to just below the kitchen wart and was gobbling dropped sunflower seed. I was just a few feet above him – he hissed at me, and watched me for a moment, then went back to gobbling. I could see he’d apparently been in a fight – one eye appeared to be gone, and there was a bare patch on one hind leg that seemed to have a wound. After watching him for awhile, I decided it was unlikely he was rabid, but clearly injured, so I started pushing sunflower seed down off the wart rail towards him. He backed up with the first handful and stared at me for a minute, then quickly caught on to what I was doing, so after he finished a handful, he looked up at me and waited for a new handful.

Injured visitor

After eating for probably 10 minutes, he moved across the driveway, had a poop, then stood up on his hind feet to drink water out of a pail that was next to the corner of the garage, then sat down to lick lick lick his wounded leg. After awhile he curled up, keeping his eyes on the wart and me; I got the phone and called the local police, to see if they’d contact the fishcops for me. Turns out the fishcops don’t work on weekends. The Husband went to the neighbor’s house to warn them and suggest they haul their cat inside, and I noticed the critter had disappeared. I carefully approached the side of the garage, and found he’d moved to shelter under a piece of metal that was leaning against the garage wall. Next morning, he was gone. Close Encounters.

That's all sunflower seed shells he's in

And that was a few days after I almost picked up a pure-white skunk that was gobbling the same seed spill in almost the same spot. I’d gone out on the wart around midnight to bring in the cats’ deck chairs, and saw what, in the dark, looked like the white topknot of a shih-tzu just by the wart stairs. My brain raced to a conclusion: a neighbor must have gotten a shih-tzu dog and it must have wandered off when let out to pee before bed! I’d better grab it!

Chives are well up!

I was half-way down the stairs when the critter ambled out of the shadows  and passed me, two feet away, completely unfazed by my proximity. Fortunately. I hustled back up the stairs and inside pretty darn quick.

Sunday night when it was full dusk but the sky was still a little light, we got a phone call from the Witch who lives up the hill. She and her dog were having their evening walk, and she’d just left me part of a Polish Easter poppyseed bread near the kitchen door, and wanted to let me know so it didn’t get stepped on. I put shoes on and hustled outside, and met her miniature Australian Sheepdog (one blue eye, one brown eye) for the first time. We walked around the garden so doglet could get the good smells, and talked raspberry canes, and garlic, and onions, and when to cut back fruit trees, and then stood stock-still listening to the woodcock who was buzzing his love song in the front part of my field-like front forty. We were able to watch him fly several times before the sky got too dark and I got too cold and headed in. Socializing in the depths of social distancing.

Peach tree stump bling

 

Carl the postman, who has his glass window pulled half-way down to protect himself from our emanations, tells me that the post office is handling a volume of packages that is as big, if not bigger, than they handle at Christmas time, without the extra Christmas help. I’m not sure what most of the packages hold, but I’ve been adding to the volume, as I’ve been sending out bottles of herbs to patients to treat allergies, colds that are dragging on, sleep problems, digestion issues, arthritis, and all the other not-novel stuff that I treat regularly when I’m seeing patients in person and can hand them their formulas. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people are sending their friends and families special gifts for keeping busy while isolated: spring fruitcakes, long letters, jigsaw puzzles, instructions on how to visit museums around the world on-line, and books to fill in the closed-library void?

Heart-leaf Brunneria --- I think

I’d finished feeding the birds when I ran out of seed nearly a week ago, but got snookered into buying one more small bag because THE BIRDS ARE HUNGRY! And there are goldfinches. So as of this morning, there’s birdseed on the wart rails again, and I swear, this is the last bag this season, so I hope it warms up enough soon that they can find food elsewhere. The hummingbird trackers have spotted the northern migration as far as New Jersey – it won’t be long before we’ll be hanging out hummingbird feeders for the new arrivals. 

Pathway edge bling

There’s stuff I can do in the garden, if it stops raining for a few days – dig out the marjoram, move the sorrel, cut back stuff that didn’t get cut back last fall, find a different way to mark where the perennials are, weed…and try to figure out in advance where the best place to plant stuff this year will be. But first, I have to get back onto the state unemployment benefits site and try once again.

Pear tree leaf buds

Thank you again to those angels who, realizing how difficult this time is going to be for me financially, have sent me checks for nothing except support. I can’t tell you how much your kindness has meant, how much your support eases the way, and how much your words have touched my heart. 

I’ve extended my hold on regular appointments until the week of May 18, and may need to extend it longer depending on the states’ stay at home orders. However, I am seeing patients who are in pain or for some other reason need to be treated during the orders – call me or email me (taichideb@tds.net) and we’ll find you a time on a day when we won’t overlap with other patients using the waiting room. A call or email is the best way to reach me if you need herbs through the mail, also.

In the meantime, stay safe, stay sane, wash your hands a lot, don’t touch your faces, but do go outside, sing out loud to open the lungs, and shout greetings to your neighbors. And remember, no one can tell whether you’re smiling when you’re wearing a mask, so let your eyes sparkle and wave your gloved hands happily!

Deb Marshall photos.

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” Julian of Norwich, 14^th century. No, not Norwich VT!

Happy plant!

April - And Bummer, No Booksale This Year!

Catman reading, Biscuit pretending to listen

 

April – besides being my birthday month, and this year, a month when I’m going to have a 30-day vacation, want it or not – is also the month of the 5 Colleges Booksale, to which the Sailor and I go with a surprisingly small amount of money each and with a backpack or two and some large canvas bags, which we then fill with dozens of used books that will keep us both happily reading for the next year – or so. We then go eat Chinese food – which neither of our spouses particulary cares for – and finally, we go to a lovely small bookstore, in order to soak up atmosphere, remind ourselves what a treasure trove the Booksale is, spend my birthday month discount that the store gives out, stock up on several new books we can’t wait to read until they might appear in the used book sale in some future year, and then we go home completely sated, relaxed and recharged. We really, really look forward to it.

This year, however, the author of the months-long vacation we’re all taking is also not allowing the Booksale. And the restaurants are closed except for take-out. And the book stores are closed. And it looks and feels like November outside. At this very moment, there’s a big wind, rain/sleet pouring down, and it’s really cold. The woodstove isn’t quite keeping up, and, no, still no working furnace at Deb’s house!

A month ago or so I was longing for time off. I’ve always thought that we should be more like the Europeans, who regularly take a month of vacation at a time because they understand that that’s really the minimal time one needs to truly relax and recharge. I had a list in my head of a whole bunch of things I wanted to do around the house – that weren’t chores – if I could only take a whole month off. It sounded like a glorious , wondrous, never-will-happen dream. Now many of us are getting that superb vacation whether we want it or not, thank you, pandemic. Do you think I can remember what was on that glorious mental list of things I really, really wanted to do? Not a bit of it.

The Booksale was supposed to happen on my birthday this year, dammit! 

A past birthday trip to Montreal; this is The Husband trying to look French

 

They say they’re going to try to do an on-line 5 Colleges Booksale this year. Maybe it’ll be great! It won’t be the same – no crowds or lines or people to reach past, strangers to bump into, friends to wave at across a packed gymnasium. No hauling heavy bags of books across the parking lot to the car in the rain. No getting up at some ungodly hour to get there early so we can get a chance at all the stuff we want but don’t know we do until we see it. I won’t miss that part. But – but- but-   Well, no way to know until it happens. Or it doesn’t. Maybe an on-line Booksale will be great.

I have only five books left unread from the last two Booksales. Two I’ve started to read; one of the remaining three is a compendium of three books in  a series, which I’m purposely saving for a time I’m feeling down because they’re novels by Miss Read, in which nothing really happens, but that always make me feel happy; and one I haven’t started because – well, all the others I bought at the sales have seemed more likely to be entertaining than that particular one; and the last is still unread because it’s a kinda fancy book in a slip-sleeve box, so I’m saving it for last. 

Knowing I was down to my last five Booksale books and guessing that the Sale wouldn’t happen this year, I started to panic  a little bit. It’s too early to plant the garden – what am I going to do with myself? The only thing on my mental list of things I really wanted time to do, that I can actually remember, was to have some days – several days – when I could do nothing but sit and read, the ultimate in luxurious leisure time, because there’s always too much to do that really, really needs doing, so rarely can take the time to do something I just want to do that isn’t in some obvious way productive.

I started to panic because, even though I don’t usually have time to read, I’m always reading. That’s what your other hand is for when you’re brushing your teeth: to hold the book you’re reading. It’s what one does while eating breakfast; while waiting in any kind of line; before turning the lights out at night, before getting out of bed in the morning. I always have a book in the car in case it breaks down and I need to wait to be rescued. I always have a book in the clinic because some days I can read while my patients rest. The only place I go without a book is out to the garden.

October Chinese Garden lights in the Botanical Garden a couple of years ago

I currently have four books and three magazines in progress, and one more audio book that’s read to me while I drive, which currently comes via the magic of computer technology from the State Library – not a physical object, but a digital download, so it doesn’t matter that the libraries are not lending books at the moment. Digital downloaded books are available – you don’t touch them, and can’t cough on them!

So because I was starting to panic, I decided to count the books piled up next to the bed which aren’t Booksale books but are waiting to be read. There are 28; I think I won’t starve for awhile. There are also a handful of the Husband’s books I’m interested enough in that I could read them if I get desperate; and as I also have, literally, hundreds of books in the house, I could probably find a few I wouldn’t mind re-reading, and some more I probably haven’t read. And I could borrow some from The Sailor, if need be.

Phew – I’ll probably make it through the stay-at-home orders with sanity intact. Now, if I could only remember what else was on that mental list of vacation stuff-to-do. I’m pretty sure it didn’t include washing the floors, hemming the pants, or hoeing out the pantry.

For the blog, 2 April 2020: herondragonwrites.blogspot.com

Update for my patients: my office will be closed until at least 5 May, possibly later, depending on how effective our staying-at-home proves to be. I am making exceptions for patients who are in pain who are also exhibiting no signs of pathogenic symptoms. If you need a treatment, you can call me or send email to taichideb@tds.net  and we’ll arrange a time on a Monday or Wednesday in my White River Jct office, to avoid overlapping patients with the chiropractic patients who are there other days.   

I am also filling herb orders by mail, so call or email if you need something.

Stay healthy and safe; wash your hands ‘til the skin turns dry and falls off, stay home and don’t go out to do anything fun unless it involves a picnic you made yourself and the people you live with – or your dogs, who will always be willing to go - and you’re going someplace where other people aren’t, or you can stay far enough away from those who are there to avoid contaminating each other.

And if you get sick, don’t panic before you need to – chances are you’ve only caught one of the other flus or upper respiratory viruses that have been going around and still are going around, but be safe and protect everyone around you just in case. Retreat to your mancave or womanden and let your family toss food and liquids to you from a safe distance. And you don’t get first dibs at the newspaper or books while you’re sick, everyone else gets to read them first so they don’t pick up your germs. 

If you don’t have a dishwasher to sterilize germs on the sick person's silverware, glasses and dishes, isolate the sick person’s dishes from everyone elses; hand-wash them last, then sterilize the sponge or dishcloth immediately after (sponges can be nuked on high for 2 minutes so long as it’s a natural sponge; you can also pour boiling water on sponges and dishcloths, and for that matter, on the sick person’s dishes.) And stop hoarding toilet paper! 

Don’t listen to the radio/tv news every day, do find some fun stuff to watch – binge-watch Vicar of Dibley or AbFab or the whole Hobbit etc series – you know, NOT APOCALYPSE MOVIES!

That’s my advice for today: Stay safe and healthy!

Be a Dragon!