Montana Woman Attacked by Bear

Did you hear about the woman in Montana who was attacked by a bear at her own back door? She had let her three dogs out in the evening and heard a commotion in the yard. She didn't realize that a bear was at the edge of her yard eating apples from her tree but two of her three dogs caught on and made a run for it. The third dog was old and slow and he headed for the house and so did the bear. She realized the bear was attacking her dog so she screamed. Then the bear shifted his attention to her. She was half outside the door when the bear caught her. She landed a good kick to the bear's nose but he swiped at her leg, tearing her blue jeans and scratching her leg. Luckily, she was able to back into her kitchen.

Now, here is the part of the story that makes her my Hero. She reached around on her kitchen counter for a weapon and found a large zucchini which she threw at the advancing bear. (At this point in the story daughter Sarah shouts 'en gourd!'which isn't horticulturaly correct but funny anyway) The vegetable hit the bear squarely on the head and he retreated back out into the night. Now, you may wonder why I find that heroic. If you had ever planted even one zucchini plant you'd know that any new use for the fruit is reason for rejoicing, especially those great big ones.

This story has a happy ending. The dog is going to be okay, the woman has only minor injuries and a zucchini has been found to be useful as a weapon. If I had my way this would be one of those tales passed from father to son or mother to daughter, down through time.

The half bushel of vegetables in my picture has a couple of zucchini that could qualify as weapons. Stand back, I am armed.

Night-Blooming Cereus

It is difficult to go back to everyday pursuits after something really bad has happened. Every where we look life goes on and we should be thankful that everyone isn't in the state we are but still we have a vague feeling of resentment. Jeff is still in the hospital and his survival is not a sure thing, although every day that passes without a major crisis is a good day.

Remember the song that says "Don't they know, it's the end of the world?" It goes on to say, "since you don't love me anymore" but the feeling of something lost is close even though our trouble isn't a lost love.

A couple of weeks ago one of the cactus,a night-blooming cereus, bloomed. The blossom opens to its fullest during the passing of one single night so when Bob, always the night owl, saw it in bloom he brought it and a flashlight into the bedroom. Usually a middle of the night awakening isn't good but in this case it was wonderful. The delicate petals glowed under the soft light of the flashlight and at least then I was glad the world has continued to turn.

The blossom lasted in to the next morning and I was able to get these pictures.

A setback tody. Jeff had to have surgery to release pressure in his brain. We are all hoping and praying for the best.

Jeff Dodge is in Neuro-Intensive Care

Our nephew, Jeff Dodge, is in the hospital in the neuro-intensive care unit with three skull fractures. He was struck by a pick up truck while walking at about 2AM on July 27th. He is in a medically induced coma and his temperature is being kept low in order to keep brain swelling down. Lowering his body temperature brings with it the risk of infection since the body uses fever to kill off bugs. The infection expert - there is a specialist for everything - is trying to identify a lung bug they discovered in order to target it with the correct drug. In the meantime he is on a broad spectrum antibiotic. His brain pressure is being monitored closely and drugs administered in a complicated dance to preserve precious brain tissue. The first 72 hours are critical after this kind of injury.

Jeff, who's twenty-three years old, is maybe the nicest of our nephews. (sorry everyone else, you are all pretty nice, too) When he started to work at Menard's he was a salesman and he said to me, "Aunt Chari, I am a bad salesman. I tell them 'Don't buy that, it is kind of junky'" He shrugged and we laughed. Menard's didn't hold that against him, it seems, since they promoted him to management.

Jeff's dad, Jim, worked as a nurse in the very unit Jeff is being treated and his step-mom Denise is currently a nurse there, so they know all the scary details of an injury like this. It must be like their worst nightmare come to life.

Jeff's mom, Ruth and step-dad Pat, are living a nightmare, too. NOT knowing all the details is hard, too, and it doesn't help when doctors disagree and when no one can tell you what is likely to happen.

The hospital sets aside a 'crisis room' for families of patients and ours has been filled with people every time we go. Jeff's siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, extended family, old friends of the family, and of course, Jeff's friends come and go. The hours pass slowly. Down the hall, Jeff is tethered to an array of machines that would seem right at home in a science fiction movie. He looks as if he is just asleep and Bob, Sarah and I all felt he is in there, waiting to wake up.

Could there be anything worse to add to this? Yes. Jeff was intentionally run down by a drunk who'd been at the pub where Jeff and two friends were playing pool. It was near closing time when the drunk, twenty-three year old Texan Brandon Goodwin, and a friend came in. The barmaid refused to serve him and Jeff's friends eventually joined her in telling the guy to leave. Jeff himself never said anything but stood with them. As the guy left he said he would kill the bartender and Jeff and friends.

Jeff and his friends decided to walk home. Jeff had only one beer - this fact has been documented with a blood alcohol test at the hospital - but home for them was close so they didn't drive. The drunk appeared in a borrowed pick up truck and made two passes at them, which they avoided. One of them called 911 but before the police responded the drunk returned, jumped a curb, went over a group of bushes and a broad grassy area and plowed into Jeff. One of his friends was hit in the leg and has very minor injuries, the other escaped unharmed. Jeff flew up and when he came down the others saw his head bounce off the pavement. He rolled over, tried to get up a couple of times, then was quiet.

The drunk zoomed off but was quickly arrested at an after hours joint. He is being held on $500,000.00 bond. The charges, so far, are attempted murder and driving a vehicle while intoxicated, causing injury. We think, and this may happen, he should be charged with three counts of attempted murder.

We are mired in impotent emotions. Sorrow at Jeff's injuries and all the unknowns they bring, sympathy for those closest to him, fear and worry for what the future may bring and then, a nice topping of rage directed at someone we have never met.

Adjectives Gone Wild

A local credit union just changed its name. It used to be known as Communications Family Credit Union now it is Wildfire Credit Union. WILDFIRE? Is that a name that inspires confidence? Do I want to put my money where they are advertising wildfires? Who though that name was good idea?

I do know a little about that credit union because many of my fellow postal employees were members. The credit union was known for being very liberal with the loan money in sharp contrast to the Saginaw Federal Postal Credit Union that was stingier. Maybe wildfires were a problem even then so they needed to get the money out of the building to save it...

What about Chrysler's Crossfire? If your engine is cross firing that is when the cylinders are firing in the wrong order, isn't it? And anyone who's ever seen a cop show knows it's dangerous to get caught in the crossfire. The word is also used to describe a verbal battle. Why would we want to buy and then drive something associated with all that trouble?

One day while we were in Heritage Natural Foods I was expounding on this subject and store owner Paul mentioned he's puzzled by the use of the word 'extreme' in business names. Names like 'Extreme Painting" and 'Extreme Rug Cleaner.' Just how much paint would it take to be extreme? I wonder if they leave any nap on a rug that's been through the extreme cleaning process.

I used to rent lock boxes to business customers at the post office and over the years I noticed that if the word 'reliable' was in the name of a business they were anything but. Their checks bounced, they never picked up their mail or they neglected to pay the rent for the box, then complained loudly when it was closed. I should have been given a bonus for refraining from hooting when I helped those 'reliable' folk open a box. I will admit I was unable to suppress a smirk but I never vocalized.

Language is changing all the time and I guess I have to accept new usages but I don't have to like it.

Eat Wire, Bunnies!

Last time, I promised to tell you about Bob's plan to foil the bunny population. You may have thought he would resort to violent methods of extermination but think again. Only one animal can be dispatched at a time and one has to catch the offender red handed, and anyway, it is illegal to do so in the city. Bob found a saner, more mature option.

The Problem:
Butch, the outside cat whose name is only one letter different than his grumpy sounding vocalizations, had been missing for a couple of weeks and in that time the rabbits became bold and confident. Early in the morning, while the dew was still on the veg, they feasted on whole plants. The last victims were two of the three young, tender black locust tree seedlings. Only one was left to give mute testimony to the carnage.

The Solution:
As luck would have it, about this time Bob went to old friend Dianne's house to fix a table leg and while there mentioned he needed to buy some rabbit wire. Dianne produced a roll of used wire she was going to put out for the trash and ta da! the material for the bunny foiling cages was at hand. Not that it was an easy fix. The wire was lumpy and twisted and had to be tamed back into shape but then it was ready for its new life.

Each cage is a work of art, I think. Bob measured the wire using pi to determine how long each strip of wire needed to be to mate up with the round tops he cut. That may be the first practical use of pi I've witnessed first hand. Okay, so I am an English type, not a math type. It is genetic, I think. Daughter Sarah once asked her math instructor if she could write a little story about each problem rather than solving the problem... but I digress.

Using a needle nosed pliers, Bob fastened each section of the cage by twisting the wire around the adjoining wire until, after what seemed to me a gazillion junctions the cages were complete. They are big enough to get the plants through that irresistible to rabbit phase and should last for years.

And you thought this post was going to involve some violence.

Vegetable Gardens and the Joys of Manure

We have a big pile of manure in our yard and I am so happy. It is well rotted horse manure Bob and friend Dave hauled from a horse farm a few miles away. Bob is almost done spading, spreading manure and planting our main vegetable garden and what a job that was. The manure is wonderful stuff but it added hours to the job. Bob would spade a row, push the wheelbarrow to our other yard, load it with manure, push the barrow back, and unload it into the furrow all along the spaded row and then repeat the whole process. It should be good for Bob, if it doesn't kill him.

If the weather cooperates, we will have three lettuces,(Black Seeded Simpson, oakleaf, and arugula) four kinds of sweet peppers, three kinds of hot peppers, cucumbers, carrots, zucchini, radishes, and four kinds of tomatoes. We have some leftover from last season Kentucky Wonder climbing green beans and those will be planted last. We have found that when they are planted early in the season they develop rot and have to be replanted so it makes sense to leave them until last. We also will grow a few marigolds and zinnias just for fun.

A row of four varieties of Castor beans, which can grow up to 15 feet tall, will serve several purposes. Their large, fleshy leaves and spiky seed pods give the garden an exotic feeling while screening out the neighbor's back yard in the summer. Then, when they have died, the stumps will form the base for next year's bean trellis. How's that for a useful plant?

My mom discovered a source for rare and unusual seeds. The address is J.L. Hudson, Seedsman P.O. Box 337 La Honda, California 94020, or their website jlhudsonseeds.net Their catalog is a black and white booklet that is chock full of information about each plant. Their prices are reasonable and delivery is quick. Bob ordered their Castor beans and a packet of black locust tree seeds.

The tree seedlings were doing very well until some fiendish son of a devil ate every last trace of them. Probably a bunny.

I'll post Bob's solution to the bunny problem next time.

Rhubarb Upside Down Cake

I was shocked to see rhubarb selling for $3.99 per pound at the fruit market. It is such a reliable perennial anyone who likes its tangy taste should think about planting some. It takes a couple of years to establish itself but then, stand back. My mom gave us a few crowns to plant about 30 years ago and every spring we have more than we can use. I sometimes can it but it is best used fresh.

Old timers called rhubarb pie plant but it is makes a good cake, too. Yesterday I made an upside down cake from a few stalks that I trimmed off because they were in the way of Bob's spading. I removed the big leaves, washed and cut the stalks into little chunks and had almost 4 cups of rhubarb.

Here is the recipe I used:
1 1/4 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 pound fresh rhubarb, cleaned and cut into 1/2 inch slices (3 cups)
1/3 cup butter
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 350. Grease 8x8x2 inch baking pan.
Sift together flour and baking powder.
Combine 1 cup of the sugar and the rhubarb in a large saucepan. Cook over medium low heat to melt the sugar and to begin to soften the rhubarb. Stir constantly, 5 to 8 minutes. Spread into prepared baking pan.
Beat butter with the remaining 1/2 cup sugar in a big bowl until light and fluffy. Beat in vanilla and egg. Beat in flour mixture, alternating with milk, until well blended. Spoon over rhubarb and spread out as evenly as possible.
Bake about 35 minutes until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool for 5 minutes, loosen edges with a table knife and invert on a serving dish, or serve from the baking dish. Serve with ice cream, if you wish.

This cake is good enough that I'd pay $3.99 per pound for the rhubarb, if I had to.

Rhubarb is the main ingredient in some old time spring tonic recipes, probably because it appears so early in the spring and it is full of vitamin C. Can you imagine how welcome those first sprouts must have been when there was no fresh fruit available all winter?

I can no longer complain that no one asks for my opinion. This week I got a call from the Gallup Poll people. You may remember we were a Neilson Rating household only a few weeks ago so I guess the word is out. Bob and Chari are on the go to folks for public opinion.

I'd like to say I answered the Gallup call with pithy and useful answers but I cannot. First, they didn't really want me. They wanted someone 18 to 34 years old but when I said no one in that age group lived here they settled for the youngest household member and since Bob is the old guy here, I answered.

The subject was alcohol purchase and consumption. Daughter Sarah or stepson Hal could have supplied useful data since they both imbibe moderately, but all my answers were NO. No purchases of beer, wine, wine coolers, no consumption of same, within the last month. The interviewer was pleasant and seemed disappointed in my answers. I told her that I have some rice wine vinegar I could take a slug of if that would help...

After the call ended I realized that we do have some alcohol in the house. At Christmastime Helen, my friend from work, gave me a small bottle of homemade raspberry wine. I tasted it, of course, and it is yummy but so far I have only used a small dash of it to flavor a venison stew.

Why couldn't the Gallup people have asked me about my reading habits or gardening or my political opinions? Life is like that. I have answers but I'm never asked the right questions.

The Rye is as High as an Elephant's Eye

The winter rye Bob planted in our garden as a cover crop last year is quite tall. It has formed seed heads and it would be fun to see if we could harvest some rye but that is not to be. Bob will cut it down and turn it under to help nourish the soil. Most years he would have already done the deed but this year he is a little slow, garden wise, and the rye is thriving.

The practice of planting a cover crop to improve the soil is an old one even if the name for the practice sounds trendy: rye, or any plant used in this way is called green manure. Last summer, as vegetables were harvested and the plants died, Bob planted the rye, watered it a few times and then left it to overwinter. Come spring the garden is a striped patchwork of green plants that grow and grow and grow.

Rye has an impressive root system so you'd think it would be hard to cultivate but the roots aerate and loosen the soil so it breaks up easier than bare ground would. Worms love it.

In the interest of full disclosure I should admit that the rye is not as high as an elephant's eye unless we are talking baby elephants but I liked the sound of the phrase. Please excuse my rye humor.

The Nielson Ratings

This week we took part in the Nielson Television ratings survey. We were chosen at random from a large group so that statistically we represent thousands of households. They sent us three booklets, one for each television, and we were asked to make a record of when the television was on, who was watching, what was being watched and for how long. There was even a space for reporting that the TV was on with no one watching for those of us who use the TV for background noise.

This week was sweeps week when the networks try to put on their best shows in order to garner good ratings by luring in the Nielson diarists. We didn't watch anything we don't ordinarily watch, though, so that tactic was lost on us.

I was kind of alarmed to see that on Thursday nights I spend a LONG time in front of the TV. It is Survivor night, so the viewing begins at 8PM. Then, it's CSI, then The Mentalist, then the news and sometimes I sit there for David Letterman, too. And if I can stay awake, I like to see some of The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson. No wonder I often sleep in on Friday.

We both watch CSI although we are tiring of that franchise, especially the Miami one. Lately, the science has been so poor that we spend a lot of the show guffawing and objecting. My pet peeve is the way they investigate indoor crime scenes with only their flashlights. Why don't they turn on the lights and really look at the scene?

Nova is another show we both watch although the complaint there is that our station often advertises the wrong episode so we get situated for viewing and find it's one we've seen already.

Bob watches reruns of Star Trek: the Next Generation late at night. He eats his Heritage Natural Foods almonds and Rice Dream ice cream during that and it is his little treat for the week. Simple pleasures are the best, it seems.

I like reruns of Bonanza. I remember seeing most of them with my dad and can often remember some comment he made about the plot. Dad's been dead since 1974 so it's kind of neat to recall, almost word for word something he said. I didn't realize back then how dumb some of the plots were on Bonanza and why are Ben Cartwright's "boys" still at home with Dad telling them what to do?

I also watch Desperate Housewives. Daughter Sarah got me into that one recently and I enjoy it although I hear it is going to be gone after next season. Brothers and Sisters is on after that and I usually have that on while I do other things. I like to see Sally Field since she has aged gracefully, doesn't seem to have had plastic surgery and it gives me hope that I can do the same.

My parents were a part of the Nielson ratings when I was still at home. I remember my dad wanted to be sure to watch Mort Neff's Michigan Out of Doors Show so it would be in the diary. We watched The Man from U.N.C.L.E, Laugh-In, The Monkeys, The Flying Nun, and I think my sisters watched The Brady Bunch. That year, Nielson sent a five dollar bill along with the diaries as a small thank you. We got a very crisp one dollar bill with ours. I guess times are tough.

The survey was kind of amusing and we would do it again, if asked. We don't have cable or satellite so we probably aren't representative of the average household but we got our two cents worth in, anyway.

Nifty Chevy Hood Ornament

Bob made a nifty hood ornament for my 1988 Chevrolet Caprice. When we bought it a few months ago it had a cheesy aftermarket Chevy emblem strapped to the hood with a bungee cord. So tacky. Bob replaced that arrangement with a fancy acorn nut but that developed rust (drat rust, it's the bane of vehicles in Michigan) so he fashioned this new, improved custom bow tie emblem from a chunk of aluminium.

If you know us, you know we love 1980s box style Chevy Caprices. We bought this one from an old woman in Flint, who'd had a stroke and hadn't driven in a long time. She insisted she was still able to drive since she was able to see out of the inner part of her left eye and the outer part of her right eye but her sons thought differently. I feel for her. I hope I have the sense to stop driving if I become a danger on the road.

This is the second low mileage Caprice we have gotten from a Grandma type person. I told daughter Sarah that and she stifled a snicker. I had briefly forgotten that I have slipped into the Grandma category, too. I guess now the Grandmas are just shifting Caprices among us.

I hope there is, as we speak, another Caprice parked in the heated garage of a long lived Grandma who'll in about ten years decide to sell it to that nice couple, Bob and Chari. We are currently looking for another Caprice for one of the senior members of the Grandma club, my Mom. I hope we can find her a good one, too.

I wasn't always a convert to the Caprice club. When Bob and I first married I needed a new car and wanted to buy an AMC Pacer. Does anyone remember the Pacer? It looked like a small fish bowl on wheels and came in groovy 1970s colors. The seat adjusted so far forward you could drive with your nose pressed up against the windshield, if you wanted. The seat fit me perfectly and visibility even for a shorty like me was fantastic; the car was all windows. Well, Bob was very nice about it but he did point out that he wouldn't be able to drive the car since the pedals were so close together his foot depressed accelerator, clutch and brake all at once. Sigh... I saw a spring green Pacer in a parking lot last year. It is the only one I've seen in at least twenty years. Actually, they disappeared fairly quickly, starting with the back fenders. By the 1980s the only Pacers you saw were so eaten by the rust moths that parts flapped in the wind as the car chugged down the road and then even those sorry examples were seen no more.

Anyway, if you see me out and about in my blue 1988 Chevrolet Caprice take a gander at my hood ornament.

Venison Soap Success!

It looks like the venison soap project was a success! The cut bars are aging and even a week early they are pretty good for hand washing. They still don't lather much but it was pointed out in Making the Most of Your Deer by Dennis Walrod that sudsing just keeps the bubble part of the soap away from your skin where it is needed, so we are not going to fret about that. The soap does clean well and rinses clean and odor free so we are happy.

It is lye soap, though, so I wouldn't use it as face soap. We saw an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies on television the other night where Granny is helping spruce up Ellie Mae and has carried water to an old wooden tub for a bath in the kitchen. Jane Hathaway is on the mission, too, and has arrived with perfumes, soaps and fancy duds. Jane is horrified to see Ellie Mae using Granny's lye soap and protests. Granny says she has used it her whole life and they all look at her skin which Jane says is "leathery." Yep, Granny says proudly. So unless we are after the look of leather, I think the soap is best reserved for hands.

Bob cut the soap up into bars and trimmed the fancy molded ones and now it is aging. There is still a chance that some unencorporated pockets of lye could be lurking inside the bars but in all the slicing and shaping Bob found none. The soap would still be usable so I am confident in proclaiming success.

Making Venison Soap

The deer Bob shot during his November hunt was the fattest he had ever seen so we decided to try to make venison soap. Not soup, soap. I had been thinking of making soap from olive oil and so had gathered most of the supplies, including a book called Soap by Ann Bramson. Her directions are detailed and somewhat complicated. Since none of her recipes included venison tallow, I went to the library where I found Making the Most of Your Deerby Dennis Walrod. His instructions were breezy and he said making venison soap is no more complicated than baking an apple pie. Well, after having done it I'd say he's right, if you include grinding the wheat for the crust and growing the tree for the apples. Okay, maybe I am exaggerating, but it is considerable work.

There are a lot of supplies to gather. An accurate scale, since all the measurements are by weight, a big tall pan which can be heated over a double boiler, a sturdy glass jar for the lye that will stand 200 degrees, two thermometers, a wooden spoon, and vinegar for possible lye burns. Of course, you need fat and lye, too. The lye is marketed for drain cleaning and has to be 100 percent sodium hydroxide. I got ours at Menards. A tested recipe is essential, too.

First, you have to pare away all the meat from the chunks of fat. This was a nasty job. We then ran the chunks through the grinder Hal and family gave us, then rendered it down on the stove to make about 3 pounds of clear fat which when cool looked good enough to eat, sort of like white chocolate. I wrapped the creamy white disk in plastic wrap and stored it in the fridge.

Lye is nasty stuff. I mixed a solution of 6 ounces to one and a quarter pints of water in a glass jar and the resulting heat and fumes were exactly as advertised. I also added 1 tablespoon of borax at this point, which is supposed to increase sudsing. While the lye cooled down from over 200 degrees to the 105 degrees that is required, I heated the fat to 135 in a double boiler arrangement. Finally, the temperatures were right and Bob slowly poured the lye solution into the fat as I stirred. One set of instructions said we'd be stirring up to one and a half hours, the other fifteen minutes. Actually, it took one half an hour.

You can tell saponification has taken place when the mixture turns a creamy white and when the soap drizzled off the spoon leaves a trail on top of the liquid. I wrote words, made stars and hearts which all lay quietly on top so I figured it was done. Well, maybe not because when I poured the mix into our cardboard molds there was liquid at the bottom. Rats! One book said, no big deal. The other said throw out the mess. I bet you can guess which said which.

We covered the molds with cardboard and a blanket and let them set for 24 hours. Yesterday, we removed the soap and it is now air drying for the two weeks Miss Picky's book recommended. We tested the chunks that broke away from the molds and it does clean your hands although it doesn't suds as much a commercial soap, despite the addition of borax.

We'll carve the big bars into little ones and in the process will see if there are any liquid bubbles inside or if there are layers of different looking soap. That would be a bad thing so I am hoping the bars are solid.

I like the idea of using as much of a harvested animal as possible so I will try making venison soap again in the future. We use the meat, of course, and have tanned the hides but I had never thought of making soap from the fat.

You'd think I would have had enough for now of the whole thing but I am thinking of Olive Oil soap... I think I will look for a bargain on a big jug.

Easy Easter Basket is Pixel Approved

I made about two dozen Easter baskets this week. I made them for our grand kids, Asa and Emmett and for the seniors at the senior center where I work. The pattern was online and it is very clever and so easy and economical, too. They're made of heavy cardboard, I used poster board, and after cutting, folding and gluing,they are pretty and fairly sturdy.

I made a bunch of them last weekend and finished up the rest today. Pixel the kitty "helped me" and she only increased production time a small amount. She is a sweet old kitty and I indulge her. When we were done, I put the baskets on the dining room table to allow the glue to dry and then went on to other things.

I don't know how long Pixel was involved in basket craft but an hour or so later, I found her sprawled out on the table, wearing one of the pink baskets around her middle. She was kind of grumpy with me as I photographed her fashion statement. I thought she looked quite stylish but she only wanted out.

I suppose we should keep Pixel off the tables. It might not be a big issue for a while since she is a little afraid of the dining room table now. It is the scene of the basketing and she remembers.

If you, or your cat, would like to make a basket, click here.

Mercury and Venus in the Early Evening Sky

Mercury and Venus appear in the western sky in the very early evening from now until about April 15Th. The best time to see them is about 30 minutes after sunset. Look for Venus first as it is the far brighter of the two and once you find it you will be able to use it to home in on Mercury, which is lower in the sky but quite close.

First find Venus. It will be about one hand span up from the horizon. Face to the west, extend your arm as if you are pointing, spread your fingers and put your thumb at the horizon - Venus should be at the level of your little finger. The planet will be a steady, bright light. Planets don't twinkle as much as stars.

Mercury is harder to find but will be below and to the right of Venus. Be patient. As the sky darkens it will be easier to see. A pair of good binoculars would make it easier to see but it is visible with the naked eye. Finding it the first time is the hard part, once you've located it you will probably be able to find it again.

Mercury will be waning from gibbous to crescent stage over the viewing period but if you are looking with the naked eye, you won't be able to see that. The planet will just appear to be a small steady light. Bring out even a small telescope and you'll see Mercury in ever smaller slices as the month passes.

Mercury is not a common sight in the sky for those of us in the mid-northern United States and is hard to spot so this Venus/Mercury pairing is a great opportunity to see it.

Incidentally, a hand span equals approximately 15 degrees of the sky. That's true no matter how big or how little you are due to the relationship between the length of your arm and the size of your hand. Also,the tip of your little fingernail is about the width of the full moon, which is one half degree. Try it, it's a neat trick.

We have had to drive out to a more open area to view the two planets. Our tree lined corner has no horizon to speak of and the city light glow would probably wash out Mercury even if we could see that low. The first attempt we made was a bit early in the month so only Venus was visible but last night, Bob went out by himself and saw both of the planets. I was busy with an Easter project so I stayed in but before the event is over, I hope to see them, too.

I hope you have clear weather and a good spot for viewing.

The above images are Mercury on the top and Venus on the bottom. They are courtesy of WPCLipart.

Eastern Bluebird Sighting

Bob and I saw an Eastern Bluebird on Wednesday! It was at Oakwood Cemetery near the woods and it was unmistakable. I saw it first, while it was flying, and thought it was the blue-est Blue Jay I had ever seen. Then it landed on a tree limb and I saw the rosy color on its breast. No crest, either.

It sat in the tree for a while and we both got a good look at it. I have been hoping to see an Eastern Bluebird since I was a young girl. There was a movement back then to try to entice them to nest in boxes on posts near the river where I lived. I always watched to see one, but I never did.

We went back to the cemetery on Thursday armed with binoculars - well, Bob's is a binocular, mine is a monocular Bob made from a half ruined binocular since I only have one eye, anyway - but it was windy and we saw nothing but sparrows and robins.

Vegetable Slicer with Attitude

Bob sharpened a very scary tool today. It is an old slicer for vegetables that sits on an angle over a bowl or chopping board. The design is simple and clever - if you don't value your digits. The blade has no guard and considering the force you have to use to slice a vegetable, disaster is only a swipe away.

I sliced a carrot with the thing without incident but I feel I may have used up my luck for a while so I am proceeding with caution for the next few days.

Tom, the guy who owns said device, was thrilled to have found it and says he has used one like it to cut cabbage. Well, if I was using it I am afraid the cabbage would swiftly become red cabbage.

Now a days, there are guards on everything, sometimes to the point that it is hard to use the item for its intended purpose. And everything has a warning label. Like, the child's pool we bought that said, "Use no electric in pool or a damage may arise." Darn, they spoiled all our electrical fun.

I really think the slicer needs a warning label, though. Maybe, Don't Use this Device, or Buy a Food Processor.

Time is Short

"...a normal adult never stops to think about problems of space and time. These are things which he has thought of as a child." - Albert Einstein

My childhood thoughts about space and time only involved conflict with my sisters over closet space and annoyance that it was always time to do something I didn't want to do. I guess Einstein's childhood thoughts were different than mine. What a surprise.

I don't know if you heard but the days are shorter this week than they have been in the recent past. That's because of the earthquake in Chile. It seems the quake made the earth smaller around the middle (why can't I achieve that?) so it spins faster, thus the shorter day. Well, it is just a little teeny fraction shorter but I think we might miss the time.

I have heard that the most often used word in the English language, other than articles like a, and and the, is "time." I think that shows just how important the loss of even a little time will be. I know I never have time to do all the things I want to do and now...

What do we know about time, anyway? We seem to move through it and it seems to be a one way traffic kind of thing, but is it? Einstein's theory says that when we travel by air, we age more slowly than those we leave on the ground and if we were able to travel at the speed of light we wouldn't age at all. What a peculiar life that would be. I don't think I'd want to live forever if it involved perpetual airline food. In fact, I think that might end your life even without the time factor.

Then there is time travel. It seems attractive but is fraught with difficulties as any science fiction writer can tell you. We'd surely mess up something important while trouping through the past and what would we be likely to find in the future? Just a place where we don't exist anymore and that would be upsetting since most of us are convinced the world can't do without us.

Then there is the theory that we are living in one dimension which is right up against many other dimensions that feature slightly different versions of our reality, like a series of reflections in a mirror with minute changes in each reflection until by the last one you can see, big things are different. Some scientists think near misses in our dimension affect the next one. If you believed that, every day life would be kind of tense. Suddenly, the near accident you felt lucky to have missed has caused your other dimension selves pain. I'm not sure how this theory meshes with time theory, or if it does, but it sounds like it could be a bad time all around.

What thoughts do you have on time, or do you think it's better to save the time you'd spend thinking about it for other pursuits?

Should I Try to Clean My Edouard Debat-Ponson Print?

I had to ask one of the elderly volunteer clerks at the Bethesda Thrift Shop for help since they'd hung the print way up on the wall. A ladder was produced and the plucky clerk ascended while another held the ladder. I was disappointed at first. There is a water stain on the top and another bigger one across the bottom. But the colors are bright and the subject is rural life at the turn of the nineteenth century, an era I love, so I bought it anyway. It cost $9.99.

The print is marked Debat-Ponson in the corner and some Internet sluething revealed he was a French painter, first name Edouard. He lived from 1847 to 1913. I think this print may be called "The Proposal" but that is not a certainty since that title was listed for more than one print. Likewise, the value of the print was variably listed for as little as $5.00 and as much as $500.00. More proof that the Internet is a minefield of misinformation. Of course, I know nothing about the value of prints; each could be correct. I only know I wanted this one at least $9.99 worth.

I think the frame is original since it looks just like the one on one of the art sites. It is simple, privative, just right for the rural subject.

The water stain sent me on another Internet search and I found many restoration sites. Most of them show examples of their work and they were impressive. Even large holes and tears can be repaired, it seems, and water damage looks to be a simple problem to solve. Less clear is how much that kind of restoration costs. It would be handy if they listed prices along with the glowing examples but not one site did. I am guessing if you have to ask, you can't afford it.

eHow.com has a do-it-yourself option. It involves soaking the print in purified water, then using chloride of lime and print acid. They warn that this is a risky business since the colors could come off along with the stain.

Well, what do you think? Should I risk the print with a do-it-yourself bath or leave it as it is? I don't think the item is valuable enough to justify a professional fix, so it's one of these two choices.

Happy Valentine's Day!

This euonymus bush is a nice Valentine's Day decoration, I think. It is a quiet day here. Our only concession to the holiday was a lit candle held aloft by a ceramic cupid at the dinner table. Dinner was spaghetti with meatballs and it was good. So much better than braving the big crowds at a restaurant. Bob has disappeared to read "Isle Royale Calling" and I will soon go back to reading "Lost Symbol" by Dan Brown. A near perfect day for two bookish folk.
Bob did make me a gift. It's a bookmark made from the cardboard box that held Valentine's cakes I bought for the seniors at my Senior Center. Bob has a thing for very white cardboard packaging; he cuts it up for use in list or note making. I get a note every work morning and I look forward to seeing what he has to say. He leaves me room at the bottom or on the back for my reply.
The bird feeder was busy today with many visits from many different kinds of birds. That usually means bad weather is on the way. A squirrel discovered the suet feeder and has nibbled the edges he was able to reach. We hope to attract the woodpecker we hear in the neighbor's tree but we may regret that. Last time we had a suet feeder a downy woodpecker made lines of holes in our garage siding, presumably to find insects. Bob wasn't happy to have such a well ventilated garage.
You'd think the birds would eat the euonymus seeds but there isn't much evidence that they have. The bush is in our side yard where we can't easily see it so maybe some do. The seed pods are certainly pretty but maybe not tasty.

Snow in 49 of 50 States. Why not at the Olympics?

The big snow storm this week cured our cabin fever! It seems the effort of digging out forced us back to life and now we are rejuvenated, if sore.
The weathermen are saying there is snow on the ground in 49 of the 50 states. Only Hawaii is left out of the loop and I feel sorry for them. Don't they have a mountain high enough to have a snow covered peak? Of course, they are actually volcanoes, so I guess snow might have a hard time sticking to the active ones...
The Olympics in Vancouver are in desperate need of snow, I hear. They are feeling the effects of El Nino, so the temperatures are in the 50s. Oh boy.
But the worst news from the Olympics is the death of a 21 year-old luge rider. How tragic. I know it is a dangerous sport but I'm sure his family expected he'd be coming home to them after the games. There is a lot of talk on television and the Internet that the luge hill was too tall, too fast and too open and I guess that debate will continue at least through the end of the winter Olympics. And all this has happened even before the opening of the games, which is tonight.
I can't remember any other recent deaths at the Olympics, although there may have been some. There was that horrible year in Germany when terrorists attacked and several athletes were killed. That was long before we had any terrorism on our soil but we should have known then that it can happen anywhere.
I do wish Canada could have some of the cold weather and snow we've had, or better yet, some of it that hit the southern states that NEVER get snow. They would gladly donate.

Cabin Fever

We are in the middle of an epidemic here in Michigan. It is cabin fever and it is the worst outbreak we've seen in years.

Snow covers the ground but it is old, dirty snow so it isn't pretty to look at. We wander from window to window, lifting the heavy shades or parting the lined drapes hoping to see even a small sign of spring.

We are hungry for green, growing things. We would wear perfume called Eu de Cut Grass if they made such a thing and around here it would be better than pheromones. We are planning our 2010 garden and have dogeared several pages in the seed catalog. Mom found a source for Castor bean seeds which have become hard to find, so that order is filled out and ready to be mailed on Monday.

There is a stark beauty to the winter landscape here on our tree lined corner although we are so used to seeing it we sometimes forget to really look. The evergreens Bob planted about 25 years ago are bright splotches of green against the stark brown, black and grey of the deciduous tree trunks. The different textures and colors of tree trunks become more apparent in winter and some people, like Bob, can identify a tree by its bark. In our yard, snow clings to the bark and blankets the boughs and there it is clean and white.

The garden, on close inspection, has a few surprises. The cabbage stalks left to overwinter are still a deep, dusky green. Dusty miller, too, is still green and seems to have antifreeze in its leaves. Sometimes it will return to life in the spring but that is hard to believe right now. In fact, it is hard to believe the frozen solid earth will ever yeild to a shovel.

In November, I brushed the snow from the broccoli and made a salad from the florettes I cut. It was milder tasting broccoli than in the heat of summer and since it was unexpected, it felt like a special treat.

We will go for a walk today in the cemetery. There is little traffic and it is so quiet there. The exercise, and the cold air, will help dispel the cabin fever, we hope.