Wildlife

Turkeys are bashful and cautious birds.  It takes very little to scare them off.  Stop the car to watch them foraging in a snowy cornfield and when the lookout sees you, they're gone.

But every now and then you see a strange lump in a tree, and that's probably a turkey.  This was across the road, and there were 3 or 4 more on the ground. I was sure that the noise I made getting the deck door unfrozen would be my undoing, but no.

Then my neighbor let the dogs out.  These were lucky photos.  Click to make bigger.

Speaking of wildlife, more or less, I am going to have LOBSTER for New Year's Eve.  The local grocery has chicken lobsters for $4.99/# starting tomorrow at 8 am.  I will be there to open the doors.  I cannot remember the last time I had lobster.

Christmas is a-coming and the goose is getting fat

The tree is decorated. Late present shipments finally arrived, and will go out on Monday.  I figure that the Wise Men came on January 6, so I can send gifts up until then with minimal apology.  The Napoliellos will be in Vermont, so I’m going to their house for Christmas Day and Lucille will cook up something delicious and Italian.

I attended a wonderful Christmas concert last week, an all-Bach program in a lovely sandstone Congregational church in Burlington, with a high arched ceiling, splendid wood work, and wreaths hanging on long ribbons from the wall sconces. It reminded me of the church I grew up in which had splendid wood work, and wreaths hanging on not-quite-as-long ribbons from the wall sconces. It wasn’t a big church,  and for reasons I don’t know or can't recall, this church at some point raised funds to build a large addition – perhaps the size of the church footprint – named Memorial Hall. I think there was no center in our town for functions of any size, and Memorial Hall, a concrete-floored concrete-block facility,went up. We held Sunday School and church suppers in that hall, the after-school and weekend recreation leagues played basketball there in the winter and spring, square dance groups danced, the local Boy Scout council had its annual award ceremony there, and Kiwanis and Rotary hosted their pancake breakfasts there. If it rained, the Strawberry Festival was held in Memorial Hall instead of on the lawn.

Our church's 11pm Christmas Eve service was held in Memorial Hall. None of this sissy 7-pm-so-the-kids-can-get-to-bed stuff. Hard core midnight stuff. Memorial Hall would be absolutely full of people.

In the 1950s it was COLD in December in the towns near Syracuse, NY, and that concrete floor was like ice. We wore knee socks and boots just to keep warm (girls didn’t wear pants or jeans in public then). And once the service began it was always dark. Not just because of the late hour, but because the lights were focused on the stage that had been set up for the occasion. Our choir soloists and the ministers sat on stage. The church organist accompanied the singing on a very fine piano. Tall undecorated Christmas trees stood like a small forest on either side of the stage and in front of the stage corners, and three large wreaths hung on the backdrop erected behind the stage.

It was also dark because the Memorial Hall ceiling was at least as high as that of a gymnasium, so on Christmas Eve the illumination from the lights disappeared into that dark ceiling void. The wreaths and trees made it seem like a Christmas service near the edge of a woods.

I think the service was pretty much the same every year, which was not boring but instead comforting; our church's thread of tradition and continuity paralleled the continuity of Christmas observances that have taken place all over the world for thousands of years. My memory is far from perfect but … Every year, we sang “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing”, “Joy to the World”, and “O Come, All Ye Faithful”. Every year, our minister would read the Christmas Story from the Gospel of Luke, and one year his sermon was about how important it was to the world that “the Savior” did not suddenly appear as an adult (as John the Baptist did), but was a baby, born to a poor family, who grew up with those he eventually preached to. Every year, our minister would end his sermon by movingly reciting the last two verses of “O Little Town of Bethlehem”. Every year, the service ended with Carol Cox, the choir’s soprano soloist, beautifully singing “O, Holy Night”, all the verses. And then we sang “Silent Night”, and walked out of the dark hall into the dark night, wishing Merry Christmas to our friends.

A teacher blogger who I read wrote this late last week:

The holidays are for celebrating and there are many things worth celebrating, like rich conversations that engage our minds, and good friends and colleagues, those who share resources, offer advice and love, and linger with us over coffee to share our present lives and recall fond memories. We all need these times of refreshment and rejuvenation. I wish them for you this holiday. They are gifts, perhaps even more important than the ones under the tree.

‘Nuff said.

Merry Christmas.

And now, The Cutest Dog in Michigan

The Norwich professor who was the Associate Program Director of MSIA before me has a new dog.  He drove from near Detroit to Cincinnati, OH to pick him up.  That's close to 300 miles each way, folks.

Meet Dillon (named after the Marshall, because the resident cat is Miss Kitty), the Cutest Dog in Michigan.

Ain't he sweet??

Christmas tree progress

Some of the ornaments have been added to the lights and the angel. Goodness, the angel is askew. I think the camera batteries are wearing out.  Again.  I hope the camera isn't dying, but it's going through recharged rechargeables like water. 

Adding dissatisfaction is this unsatisfactory monitor.  When the Dell arrives I may have to repost all the pictures ...

Final installment on the 24th, when I can take pictures in daylight.

What has become of the "shared public forum"?

This morning I was reading blogs about security (yes, I read blogs at work; "security" is both about practice and attitude) and found this:

Media reform advocates point to multiple forces slowly killing the shared public forum: the Internet, the proliferation of cable television, media consolidation and conglomeration, and the demise of American newspapers.

In this environment, even excellent films ... can only reach a limited and compartmentalized potential audience. ... [S]hared experience is critical for the American public to engage in reasoned ... deliberation, and this seems particularly true regarding the appropriate use of military, political, and diplomatic power. *

OK, it's talking about film, but it speaks to how we communicate in general, and how, in this media- and device-driven age, we share our experiences.  Media fragmentation means that while we have more and more ways to communicate, the outcome is that we are communicating with fewer and fewer people.

I've said before that social media brings good news and bad news: the good news is that we're able to find people like us; the bad news is that we're able to find people like us. When media reached vast numbers of readers/viewers (through TV news, newspapers, wide-circulation magazines, etc.), we discovered people like us through the experience of directly exchanging our views. That experience enlarged our reality of what "people like us" could mean. But with social media's "like" and "friend", "follow", and "recommend", our shared experience is now restricted to those we have explicitly identified, or who have been crowd-sourced to us, as "people like us". The more we stick with people like us, the more limited our experiences are and the more compartmentalized we become.

We are becoming less likely to share our thoughts or opinions with those we don't know. We are becoming less likely to attempt "reasoned deliberation". Why should we, when we're already comfortable with so many "people like us"? Strangers, if you're not liked or friended or followed or recommended, stay away.

Our individual behavior is epitomized in the halls of Congress. We claim that Congresspersons should act in the best interests of the nation, but when "people like us" exerts such overriding control of our activities and behavior, there is no such thing as "the best interests of the nation". Congress, by virtue of the electoral process, is the microcosm of society at large. Look at your list of "friends" and "likes" and "followers" and "recommenders". Do you ever look beyond them? Why should Congressperson look beyond their friends and followers if we will not?

How's this for a New Year's resolution? The next time you "like" or "friend" or "follow" or "recommend", pick someone - a complete stranger - in that group of "people like you" and reach out to that person. Find out how much that person is like you, and how different. Find out why you're in agreement about what you've just liked, friended, followed, recommended.

If we're going to share experiences, enlarge our personal communities, and engage in productive discourse, let's do it on solid ground, with personal interactions. You can't build relationships with computer clicks.

 *http://www.harvardnsj.com/2010/11/the-forgotten-filmography-of-the-global-war-on-terror/

Yes, I do have a Christmas tree

I purchased it from a dance partner, and picked it up Saturday, at the Montpelier contradance. We got it in the car (an 8’ tree fits snugly in the car, with the top leaning over my shoulder in the front seat). I realized when getting it out that the way to saw off that magic 1" of trunk is to leave it in the car, because the car is just the right height for that kind of sawing!

I should have got it into the house first thing Sunday, so that the tree branches would relax, but I wasn’t that smart at 7 am, so tree decorating is proceeding slowly. Packing the boxes for mailing Monday and Tuesday has had to take precedence. But here’s a start.

Ernie says “I am not sleeping on your chair. I’m sleeping on your knitting bag and a pillow.”

(If the picture color is weird, blame the new monitor ....)

Christmas treat

I treated myself to a technology treat last week. I bought a new computer monitor. And now I’ve bought another one.

I’ve had a 15” flatscreen since whenever I bought my last Dell system, maybe 2003. It works fine, but it’s SMALL, and large documents, especially excel files, require lots of scrolling or view size reduction (like, to 80%). So on December 9, feeling at odds with the world, I went to the local (Randolph) computer store and asked for a 19” flatscreen, square, please.

Vermont Computing is the local computer store and it carries one brand of PC accessories, named Acer. All the 19” monitors are widescreen. That’s great for movies, not great for photos and documents. They had a 17” one that was close to square and very affordable so I bought it.

Yesterday I stopped staring at the new monitor, worked up my technological courage, and installed it. I hoped to actually have two monitors (without which I'd never get work done at work) until I took everything apart and realized that my computer is so old that it has only one place to plug in a monitor. OK (heavy sigh). I can live with that.

Plugged in the new monitor, fired up the computer. Hooray, it works. Aaargh, the color is horrible. Everything tends to the yellow-green part of the spectrum. Looked at the blog. The pictures are ugly. Looked at the Christmas card file. The pictures are ugly. Blecccch.

When in doubt, read the directions. This monitor only has idiot buttons. You can change sharpness and contrast, but you can’t change the color calibration. I have no intention of spending money on calibration software when what I need is a properly calibrated monitor.

So I went to the Dell site and found a refurbished (which with Dell is close to Good As New) monitor: square, and 19”, not 17”. And since they’re Good As New, they will have the same excellent color rendition that my 15” monitor does.  For the same price as the Acer, by the way.

Monday or Tuesday I’ll return my purchase to Vermont Computing. I’m sorry to have to take a sale away from the local store. But I tried. Dell says I’ll have my new monitor for Christmas!

Christmas, winter, snow, etc.

It's been hard for me to drum up holiday spirit, and I'm not sure why.  Maybe the economy has us all under a cloud, because not a lot of friends - whether in NJ or VT - seem up for holiday doings.  Except Jamie, across the street, who's had her inside decorations up since Thanksgiving, but she's a grade-school teacher.  In grade school you "decorate your room" for any occasion.

I am getting a tree, next weekend, from a dance partner whose family is slowly phasing out tree farming.  I enjoy putting up a tree with the old and treasured ornaments that carry a lot of family history. And I'll really get to enjoy it, because I've decided I'm staying home for Christmas.

In October I was away every single weekend, and in November I went to two closer-to-home Sunday events, and I came to NJ for a whirlwind Thanksgiving.  This is so unlike my normal life that I think it wore me out.  I can't work up any enthusiasm for Christmas visiting!  What I am surprisingly engaged with is the idea of being off from Dec 23 through Jan 2 and

• spending Christmas Day with Gene and Lucille Napoliello in Waterbury Center (it's been YEARS since I did that)
• being able to rehang the bedroom curtains (if I can figure out what I did wrong the first time) and
• paint the ceiling in the house and
• making order out of the chaos of the small bedroom (aka the Knitting Stash repository)
• exercising some every day, because I have a coupon for 5 free sessions at the local Curves, and I will actually be able to get there when they're open!!

Perhaps all that away time demonstrated how disordered my life has become, and I'm craving not only being off from work, but being at home to get something of my own accomplished. In fact, that's kind of perked me up.  Yesterday I got out the house holiday decorations (that's my favorite reindeer in the living room window). The completely-fake-but-wonderfully-sparkly wreath is on the house door, the Merry Christmas hanging is on the porch door, Grandma Texas's ceramic Santas are on the radio, and the living room and dining room are adorned with assorted Christmas cutesiness.

I'm working through the stack of Christmas music CDs, and knitting furiously.  I wish that people came up with marvelous Christmas knitting ideas in AUGUST, for heaven's sake. Some readers of this blog may get late Christmas gifts, because I don't think I can get everything done to mail in time.  Oh well, a post-December 25 package means you can have Christmas again!

And winter seems to have descended. We had a below-zero morning last week and now we are getting reminders that the huge storm in the midwest, which will not hit us, is still an influence.  The forecast is for snow showers all week, and it's just stopped snowing.  The weather guys threatened freezing rain, but now plain rain (which will freeze on frozen ground, but not on cars and porches. Snow will resume Monday or Tuesday.  Now, high winds are the real concern.  There are parts of VT that only recently recovered power from the windstorm we had the week after Thanksgiving. 

 

Ernie, as you know, enjoys people food.  The occasional cheese, the daily teaspoon of ice cream, the little puddle of salad dressing, to say nothing of tidbits of chicken, asparagus, brussels sprouts, and broccoli.  He's expanded his list of faves to leek-and-potato soup. I'd made some and was serving myself some for lunch yesterday, when the spoon, full of soup, leaped out of my hand onto the floor.  Ernie was there in a flash, cleaned the floor, and then the look he gave me said "Please, madam, may I have some more?"  It's gotten so whenever I'm in the kitchen or sit down to eat, he's there, looking hopeful.