Thursday, January 08, 2009

Bartholomew Prewitt

That name has nothing to do with anything, besides the fact that it popped into my head the other day while I was taking a shower and it won't leave. I like it because it is a good, strong name with a New England flavor to it. If I were a writer it would be used as the name of a main character in a story, probably a protagonist. Do other people think this way or is it just me? Is it the result of damage or creativity? Maybe both? One compensating for the other perhaps? (insert raucous laughter here) Adaptability IS one of the coolest aspects of our species I think.

Continuing with random thoughts:

I spent part of my day splitting 2' - 2.5' diameter log chunks. I got well over half a cord out of two hours of work. My body is reminding me that it was hard work, but I feel satisfied that it was worth it.

Ice dams are a royal b*tch when they won't let go of the edge of a metal roof.

I can't wait until gardening season.

"I think I may have C.D.O. It's like O.C.D. except the letters are in alphabetical order, which is precisely the way they should be!" - spotted in Reader's Digest

Septic systems are evil sometimes.

Wild turkeys are hilarious when a group of 2 dozen of them attempts to roost in a tree which can't support their collective weight.

Pepper has moved past the spoiled, strong-willed two-year-old phase of his puppyhood and is now in the mischievous four-year-old stage. He also gave me a black eye and almost broke my nose the other day. Hey now, don't go thinking that it's a violently dysfunctional parent/child relationship. While playing with him and bending down to pick up one of his toys he bounced upward and the top of his head hit me hard right on the bridge of my nose.

What kind of insane twit would put the support beams for a wood-shed directly on the ground instead of on cement blocks? Maybe the same insane twit who would plumb the vent from a propane-fired hot water heater into the same chimney as a wood stove. The amazing part is that it passed inspection before sale. Was the inspector blind or bribed?

Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing. Oh yeah, it's winter (but I still believe it possible that there may have been a secret plot funded by the folk music movement. They convinced young girls to pick them, every one. When will they ever learn? This also begs the question "Where have all the young men gone?") Sorry for the painfully sigh-inducing pun. At least the days are slowly getting longer again.

Speaking of flowers, I will be seeing them again in a few months, having planted scads of crocii in my lawn and in the woods surrounding my property. For the non-plant savvy, they are among the first perennials of spring to poke up and bloom, often braving still- frozen ground and bursting through thinning areas of snow to bloom in defiance of the harsh conditions which keep most other plants dormant until at least a month later. I like them because they are plants of civil disobedience, thumbing their nose at the cold and having a peacefully riotous party to let Old Man Winter know that he is losing his grip on yet another seasonal cycle. They do it year after year, multiplying every season and never losing their spunk or their will to persevere through unfriendly conditions. In essence, they are the first revolutionaries to pave the way for the more stately and sensitive plants who will dominate the landscape shortly thereafter.

Knotty pine is dang hard to split, even when frozen.

Yo-yo Ma, Edgar Meyer and Mark O'Connor had incredible synergy producing the fusion bluegrass/classical album entitled Appalachia Waltz. Even if you like one genre and not the other, you will probably still like this album. At least give it a listen and buy it if it inspires you as much as it inspires me. I can't stop listening to it.

If my neighbors doubted my sanity before, all doubt was removed a few weeks ago when I scaled a 45-foot spruce tree in my yard to cut the top off as a free Christmas tree for friends (it is a tree which would have had the top pruned anyway to keep it from shading the front of my house, I really like my sunlight.) At least a couple of them were observing me from their windows, seemingly with looks of bewilderment. I think they might view me as a harmless crazy. I can live with that. If any of you ever doubted my sanity before, I think I have removed all doubt in the above paragraphs. Country life is turning me into a nutter while winter has me holed up in a ramshackle cottage ;-). No complaints, I wouldn't have it any other way!

Yes, I know that "crocii" is not the correct vernacular for the plural form of crocus, I just like the word.