A Rainy Day In February

7:04

8:14

I’ve been sitting here for the past hour, listening to the rain. The snow is melting, and our green lawn is beginning to reemerge on this almost-toasty 39º morning. In other words, it’s an ugly winter day. I am wondering where to go for a walk today because of the rain, melting snow, and ice. 

Tuesday felt a little different because Evie’s kindergarten was on break for the week. No children for her, but I still had yoga at 9:30. Fortunately, I’d had a decent night’s sleep, so I woke at 6:00 with some energy. Three quiet hours gave me time to read the newspapers, write the blog, and eat breakfast before Evie got up at 9:00. Ten of us showed up for a rigorous class, and Courtney congratulated us on our hard work. On the way home, I stopped at Wegmans to pick up a prescription—something we seem to do a couple of times a week. 

I was home by 11:30 to find Evie busy in the kitchen, making lentil soup, my granola, and dinner. The counters were covered, and the kitchen was a mess. I jumped in to help tidy up before heating my lunch—leftover Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. I finished my series, Unfamiliar, and began searching for something new to watch. The rest of the afternoon slipped by as it usually does: a brief nap, some reading, and a little television.  We were lucky because of the blue skies most of the day, perhaps the last we will have in a week.

Wow

A Long Point Afternoon

Amish Husband And Wife

At 5:00, Evie had a Zoom call with her sisters while dinner—my mom’s Shenandoah chicken with apples and tomato sauce—baked in the oven. After the call, we relaxed with a glass of wine, admiring the deepening blue of the evening sky. I even took a photo, though it didn’t quite capture the moment.

6:13

The Shenandoah chicken and spaghetti were delicious, and we have enough left for tonight. We’re struggling to find a new show and sampled Tehran on Apple TV+, though I’m not sure we’ll stick with it. We watched a bit of the Olympics before Evie went to bed. I then started a new series—somewhat juvenile-sounding—Alex Rider, based on the young adult novels by Anthony Horowitz. It follows a fourteen-year-old who is recruited by MI6 after his uncle, also a spy, is murdered. I’ve watched a couple of episodes, and it’s not bad, so I’ll continue. By 10:00, I was back in bed with my spy novel, The Seventh Floor.

Last night, in a deep expose of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem and her advisor Corey Lewandowski, Wall Street Journal reporters Michelle Hackman, Josh Dawsey, and Tarini Parti described a department in chaos. Noem and Lewandowski—who the authors say are having an affair and essentially run the department together—are using DHS for their own aggrandizement with an eye to elevating Noem to the presidency. The reporters detailed the focus on image, the decimation of ICE by firing or demoting 80% of the career field leadership that was in place when they arrived, the apparent steering of contracts to allies, and Noem and Lewandowski's excessive demands, including “a luxury 737 MAX jet, with a private cabin in back, for their travel around the country.” DHS is currently leasing the $70 million plane but is in the process of buying it. When Trump was asked about this relationship, he responded: 'I don't know about that. I mean, I haven't heard that,' Trump answered. 'I'll find out about it. But I have not heard that.'

Morning Fog

7:01

Fog At 8:04

It's 7:36, 39º, the fog having moved in and obscured the fishermen on the lake. I woke at 5:59 on the dot, lingered in bed for fifteen minutes, and was up making coffee by 6:15.

Monday turned out to be a decent day, temperatures climbing into the 40s as the snow began to melt. After my bad night and early rising, I had the blog written and the newspapers read by 8:00 — and found myself at a loss for what to do next. Before the snow and the frozen lake put an end to it, I'd have been out kayaking, but that wasn't an option. 

So I read and had breakfast, passing the time until 10:15, when I drove to the Chautauqua Institution for a walk. The roads were mostly clear with some icy patches, so I wore my crampons. I was out for 45 minutes, and the grounds were bustling — trucks parked along the streets, workers everywhere, renovation well underway. It was like an early sign of spring, except that instead of flowers, it was construction workers who had suddenly appeared in the warmer weather.

Thunder Bridge

Construction Workers Trucks

Bestor Plaza And Library

After my walk, I drove to Mayville to catch the demolition of the ice castle, likely taken down for safety reasons. Being Presidents' Day, families were out in force — watching the demolition or venturing out onto the still-frozen lake. It was a fine day for an outing: low 40s, blue skies, and sunshine.

Demolishing The Ice Castle

Not Much Left

A Busy Lake

I was home by noon for lunch — the leftover burrito from Saturday night and a bowl of navy bean and ham soup. Evie left for a pulmonologist appointment at 1:00, and I headed upstairs to read, settling in for a potential nap around 1:30. I woke at 3:00 — a full hour and a half later. Not surprising, given that I'd had less than five hours of sleep the night before. I woke disoriented, half-wondering if it was morning. When I came downstairs, Evie returned from her appointment and a stop at Wegmans.

We put away the groceries, and then Kia called. They still can't determine what's wrong with my Sportage and have requested a specially qualified technician be dispatched to fix the problem, which will take a week or two to arrange. In the meantime, they wanted the loaner back. So I drove to the dealer, swapped cars, and was heading home by 4:30. I asked about one of the familiar faces who usually worked the desk and learned he'd been let go. In fact, nearly all the salespeople I'd dealt with over the past couple of years are gone. It's no surprise because it was one of the least professional dealerships I've ever worked with.

I was home by 4:50 and spent a good half hour on the phone with my daughter Beth, who lives in Dallas. There's exciting news — her son Mitchell is getting married in March, right there in Dallas. After the call, Evie and I shared a glass of wine as the sky darkened. By 6:45, we were settled in the TV room with breaded pork chops and baked potatoes, watching a couple more episodes of DOC. After Evie went to bed, I caught some of the Iowa State/Houston basketball game, then an episode of Unfamiliar, before heading up around 10:00.

In Rubio's speech to the Munich Security Conference, he focused on “mass migration,” which he claimed “threatens the cohesion of our societies, the continuity of our culture, and the future of our people.” He called for Europe to join with the U.S. in rejecting the tenets of the post–World War II vision, claiming that “[w]e are part of one civilization—Western civilization. We are bound to one another by the deepest bonds that nations could share, forged by centuries of shared history, Christian faith, culture, heritage, language, ancestry, and the sacrifices our forefathers made together for the common civilization to which we have fallen heir.”

Some have argued that Officials in the Trump administration and their media allies have embraced the Great Replacement theory that says Brown and Black migration to Europe and the U.S. is destroying “Western civilization.” Such migration must be stopped, they argue, and Brown and Black people purged from the U.S. and Europe. The end of equal rights for migrants will enable white Christian men to dominate society and pass laws that reinforce traditional religious and patriarchal hierarchies.

Gray On Gray And 35º

7:00

8:00

It Takes A Village

It's 7:42, and I've been up since 6:00—awake since 5:00, worrying about things. I've been reading selected articles from both newspapers and Heather Cox Richardson's essay concerning the Trump Administration's attempts to save Western Civilization, meaning a White and Christian US. It's worth reading; both Vance and Rubio have hinted at this vision in their recent speeches in Europe. Despite the warm weather, a group is out fishing on the frozen lake.

Sunday was perhaps the last of our blue-sky, sunny winter days. This week promises much higher temperatures and rain—we're 33 days from spring. I was up early Sunday, of course, and had a good three hours before Evie came down for her coffee. By then, I'd done enough reading, written the blog, had breakfast, and was ready to do something. Unfortunately, my heel had been bothering me on my last hike, so I decided to take a day off, hoping that would help. Evie and I made a list for Wegmans, and I was off by 9:45, stopping at Ryder's Cup first. A couple of friends were there, sitting around talking, so I joined them for twenty minutes to catch up on the latest hockey news from their grandsons, which included a trip to Boston. Sound familiar, hockey parents?

I had to wait at Wegmans for a prescription, so I took my time shopping. When I went back to pick it up, they'd only filled half my prescriptions—I'll have to go back tomorrow. I was home by 11:30 and felt depressed about missing a walk on such a beautiful day. For lunch, I had Evie's leftovers from our Mexican dinner and watched the end of The Lincoln Lawyer. It's difficult to understand why it's so popular—the script is cheesy, the acting overly dramatic. Since I was up so early, I napped, then happily returned to my spy thriller for the rest of the afternoon.

We had our glass of wine or two at 5:00 before Evie put together dinner in 15 minutes: Salisbury steak, mushrooms, gravy, mashed potatoes, and a salad. It tasted good—I had two helpings. We watched a couple more episodes of DOC on Hulu, then some Olympics until Evie went up to bed. I then watched Unfamiliar, a German Cold War spy thriller on Netflix. It's worth watching. 

Another Big Thaw

6:56

7:02

7:03

8:05

I'm sitting in my living room at 7:35, having been up for over an hour, watching the morning sky transform. At first, it was overcast, then it bloomed into various shades of pink, and now it's settled back to mostly gray with hints of color where the sun rises. We're in for another unusual winter day in Chautauqua—full sun and blue skies. Whatever happened to those trademark gray Chautauqua winters? This week is teasing us with spring as temperatures climb into the 40s, only to plunge back into the 20s over the week—if you believe the forecasters. Right now it's 29º, and only a couple of fishermen brave the lake.

Winterfest Flags Of Sponsors

Fishing Huts

Ice Castle

Door

Inside The Ice Castle

Saturday was glorious, full of celebration and activity thanks to the Mayville Winterfest and its featured ice castle. I was up early as usual and wanted to finish my morning routine by 9:00—reading, writing the blog, eating breakfast—all before Evie woke. By 9:15, she was up and had read the blog, and I was off to Mayville to photograph the ice castle before Winterfest officially opened. It was a smart decision. I parked for free and wandered around the ice castle and lakefront for a good half hour, camera in hand. Satisfied with my shots, I drove to Tops for a glazed donut and a cake for Evie—she'd mentioned on Friday that she wished we had cake for Valentine's Day.

Fish Frozen In An Ice Block

Looking Out the Door Towards The Lake

The Southern Sky

Amish Fishermen

More Amish

Section Of Lake Where The Ice Blocks Were Cut

Path Out To Ice

I was home by 10:30 and wanted to squeeze in a hike before lunch. First, I doctored up the ham broth, sautéing onions and carrots before adding them along with a couple of cans of beans, then left it to simmer. I headed out for a half-hour hike through our woods, following the path our neighbors had broken while cross-country skiing. I finished by walking home across the lake, its surface still frozen but beginning to melt.

Path Through Woodlawn/Victoria Woods

Woodlawn

Selfie

Back home, it was time for lunch. I cut up some leftover ham, put it in the bottom of a bowl, and ladled the bean soup over it. Decent, but not great—it needed more seasoning or a richer broth. We'd planned to meet Linda and Ron at Winterfest at 2:30, so I watched some TV and read while Evie showered and got ready. 

Traffic Jam In Mayville

We left right on time, only to find traffic backed up at least a half mile from the ice castle. We inched along, passing one parking area after another, each with a FULL sign, until we'd passed the Winterfest entirely—and traffic was still crawling in both directions. Finally, we abandoned the idea and ended up on a 30-mile drive around the lake, crossing the bridge and heading into Jamestown to try a Mexican restaurant we'd been curious about: The Art of Flavors.

We assumed it would be empty at 3:30. We were wrong. The dining room was small—maybe 10 to 12 tables—and we were lucky to snag one. Despite having only one waitress, we didn't wait long for margaritas and dinner. She was remarkably adept, an attractive mother of four with tattoos running up and down her arms. We enjoyed our meals, left a generous tip, and took doggy bags home. By the time we left around 4:30, there was a line of people waiting to be seated.

Enjoying The Lake At 5:00 PM

We were home by 5:30 with nothing pressing to do. We'd already had margaritas, so wine didn't appeal. Evie relaxed upstairs for half an hour while I watched some basketball. We ended up streaming a couple of episodes of DOC on Hulu until 8:00, when Evie went up to bed. I stayed up to watch the first half of the Ohio State/Virginia game, then two episodes of The Lincoln Lawyer before calling it a night—the end of a busy day.

Russ Vought, Director of the Office of Management and Budget, didn’t just gut aid, he stole it for himself. Here is what happened, in plain English. Reuters reports that the White House is using $15 million from leftover USAID funds to pay for Vought’s U.S. Marshals Service security detail through the end of 2026.

That money was part of a system built to fight HIV, malaria, polio, and the kinds of outbreaks that quietly kill people who never make the evening news. Now it is buying armed protection for the guy who helped torch the agency.

Call it “reprogramming.” Call it “budget authority.” Call it “security needs.” Regular people have a simpler word for taking money meant to keep other people alive and using it on yourself: STEALING.

Maybe it is technically legal on some spreadsheet. Morally, it is looting.

And the worst part is the shamelessness.

A Toasty 29º Morning

7:00

Long Point At 7:00

7:28

7:34

Fog Rising At 7:34

A striking morning sky of blue-gray, rouge, and white fills my windows. It's seasonably warm, I suppose—29º—and will climb into the high 30s later in the day. I've been up since 6:00, scouring the newspapers for something hopeful. I guess David Brooks' words from the February 13th New York Times will have to do: "Today we have more talent in this country than ever before. The history of America is the history of convulsions and periods of rupture, followed by creativity and periods of repair. We've lived through the rupture; now, Times readers, let's do the repair."

Friday was another cold but blue-sky day. The morning was the usual routine: I was up early, read, and wrote the blog. Evie woke around 8:45 and came downstairs for coffee to edit the blog. I was interested in a hike and wrote my neighbor Jim, who said he'd love to, but couldn't get away until around noon. So I cleaned up the kitchen, pulled the hambone out of the refrigerator, and let it simmer in water for a couple of hours, hoping to finish the Senate Navy Bean soup today.

Hiking Bentley Nature Preserve

Open Creek

I walked down to Jim's at 11:45, jumped in his truck along with Ripley, his trusty dog, and we were off to the Bentley Nature Preserve near Strunk Road and Route 86. We parked and followed a trail made by hikers for the first couple of hundred yards, but then it stopped. From then on, we bushwhacked our way through a foot to a foot and a half of snow, hoping we were going in the right direction. It was quite a workout, especially since we weren't sure we were on the right track. We checked the maps on our phones numerous times, hoping we were heading toward the parking lot. We finally made it to a creek we remembered crossing the last time we were on the trail. Eventually, we emerged in someone's backyard and glimpsed Jim's truck in the distance. We'd walked only a rigorous mile, and it took us an hour. I'll wait for spring to hike it again and ask the Chautauqua Watershed Conservancy to mark the trail, as they did for Dobbins Woods.

Making A Path

Bridge Over Frozen Creek

We didn't get home until 1:30, and Evie had my lunch ready: two chicken salad sandwiches. I watched my show, but exhausted from the hike, I went upstairs for a nap and read. By 3:30, I was back downstairs on the couch reading, while Evie was in the TV room watching her show after prepping our dinner. 

Happy Couple

Colorful Tents Off Long Point

We enjoyed a glass of wine or two and a striking dusk as fishermen enjoyed the late afternoon sun. Around 7:00, we had dinner: rotisserie chicken, baked potatoes, and salad. We watched a couple of Colberts, the Winter Olympics, and an HGTV show before Evie went to bed. I then watched the first half of my alma mater, Ohio University, play an undefeated Miami of Ohio. I was hoping the announcers would mention our 1964 NCAA-bound team, which beat Louisville and Kentucky to reach the Elite Eight, then lost to Michigan. If we'd won, we would have made it to the Final Four—the farthest a MAC team has ever gone. Oh well, that's history. I'd had enough after the first half and wanted to get back to my CIA thriller, The Seventh Floor by David McCloskey.

Last year, Josh Dawsey and Maxine Joselow of the Washington Post reported that at a campaign event at Mar-a-Lago in April 2024, then-candidate Trump told oil executives they should raise $1 billion for his campaign. In exchange, Trump promised he would get rid of Biden-era regulations and make sure no more such regulations went into effect, in addition to lowering taxes. Trump told them $1 billion would be a “deal,” considering how much money they would make if he were in the White House.

In a ceremony at the White House yesterday, surrounded by coal industry leaders, lawmakers, and miners, President Donald J. Trump was presented with a trophy that calls him “the undisputed champion of beautiful, clean coal.” At the event, Trump signed an executive order directing the Defense Department to buy billions of dollars of power produced by coal and decried “the Radical Left’s war on the industry.” Anna Betts of The Guardian noted that Trump also announced the Department of Energy will spend $175 million to “modernize, retrofit, and extend” the life of coal-fired power plants in West Virginia, Ohio, North Carolina, and Kentucky.