A Balmy End of January Morning: Ohio University Bound

A Young Ohio University Bobcat, 1965

A Gloomy But Warm Morning, at 7:24

I was up at 6:00, walked downstairs and thought it seemed warmer than usual, checked the thermometer, 63º inside and 30º outside.  That's a change of 42º from Tuesday morning.  It looks like this warming up will stick around through the weekend, then the cold returns at the beginning of the week.  I can just make out a hint of a shoreline, dark clouds off to the east, no Venus, the Morning Star today.  We are driving to Ohio University, in Athens, Ohio, today, for the 50th Anniversary Reunion of the 1963-64 Elite NCAA Final Eight Team. We will be honored tomorrow during the half time of the Ohio University/Toledo game.  It should be fun getting together with my teammates, in fact, we have gotten together at least once a year for the past five or six years.

1963-64 Elite NCAA Final Eight Team

It was warmer yesterday but like many days, it seemed colder, perhaps because of the moisture in the air or the wind, not sure.  Because we are leaving for a weekend in Athens, Ohio, this morning, so we spent a good part of yesterday getting organized for our two day excursion as well as making sure the house was in good order.  I had breakfast with two of the guys, one, Jack, having just gotten back from a couple of weeks in Mexico.  He seemed to hit the best of the beaches as well as ruins, even going up 11,000 feet to the diminishing monarch butterfly preserve.  According to Jack, their habitat both in Mexico and the States is disappearing, thus their threatened status.  They basically live on the rapidly disappearing milkweed here in the States, and a movement is starting to get gardeners as well as farmers to plant patches of milkweed.  I suppose if every home gardener planted some milkweed it would make a difference.  Evie looked up milkweed and there seems to be hundreds of varieties, so I plan on planting some, perhaps down by our  road.

After breakfast, I went to another Thursday yoga class, crowded of course, with three other guys among the students, a rarity.  This seems to be hip opening week, so we were on our backs much of the morning.  We also learned that at the beginning of a new moon, we are less flexible, more tense because of fluid loss, at least according to some Eastern text.  What fluid it might be I have no idea. Didn't want to appear to be a skeptic.

For lunch, I had the leftover eggplant pasta, quite good, then drove in to Jamestown for a doctor's appointment with a dermatologist.  Then, I stopped both at the bank, picked up money for our trip, and at the Tractor Store to pick up sunflower seeds for our hungry birds.  We have gone through 50 pounds so far this winter, starting on our next bag.  The rest of the afternoon we both took it easy, reading and listening to NPR.  I had no mojo, so I did not go out skiing though it could have been good, even on the lake, as a number of snow mobiles have raced by our yard, hopefully making paths for us to cross country ski.  I will have to wait till Monday afternoon I guess.

Dinner, like lunch was leftover schnitzel, brussell sprouts, scalloped potatoes and asparagus, all from Wednesday night.  Thank goodness we both like leftovers, or we would waste a heck of a lot of food. Perhaps it's from our growing up with thrifty parents, who made use of all of their leftovers, part of the generation that grew up during the Depression.  We watched Stewart and Colbert, then some Idol, and went to bed earlier than usual because of our trip to Ohio University.

At the moment, it's 6:45 and I still cannot make out anything out our window, as the cloud cover must be heavy enough to blanket the beginning of dawn, no apricot colored sky this morning, no clear blue skies, no arctic temperatures.  It's now 7:20, five or six guys are out already fishing, enjoying the tropical weather.

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS: VANESSA DIFFENBAUGH *****

I really liked this book though I might be called a SNAG (sensitive new age guy) for liking it.  I don't care.  I loved it, even bought flowers for my wife, will again.  And sent copies to my two sisters, both who love flowers, have great gardens.

This is the story of Victoria, orphaned at birth, a veteran of various foster families, none which kept her for long.  As the novel opens, she has just turned eighteen, old enough to leave her Group Home and be free for the first time in her life.  Meredith, her counselor, for the past 15 years, helps set her up in a month long stay in The Gathering House, where she can stay free for a month, then either pay rent or move out on her own.  She eventually leaves the home, finds a job working for Renata, at a florist shop, where she begins to make herself a new life, with her gift for flower arranging and giving the appropriate meaning to the flowers.  As she seems to be putting her life together, Diffenbaugh intersperses chapters from Victoria's earlier life, when she was eight years old and set to be adopted by Elizabeth, an independent woman, who works her own vineyard, teaches Victoria about flowers, about growing things, as well as how to love.  Both stories begin to turn and we know tragedy is not far down the road. The eighteen year old Victoria becomes pregnant, with Grant, ironically the son of Elizabeth's sister.  Refusing to receive help from anyone during her pregnancy and birth, she makes her life very difficult, and when she becomes sick from a bacteria while nursing the baby, she decides she's not a fit mother, someone who has never been able to love, and leaves the baby at Grant's house, and disappears, living once again on the street.  Similarly, as the day for her adoption by Elizabeth draws near, she fears Elizabeth will not love her, sets the vineyard on fire, as a way to keep her love. but eventually accuses Elizabeth of child abuse in the courts. Unable to love, mostly because she has never been loved, she ruins her chance to be part of a family and spends the next ten years in various foster homes, mostly unhappy.

We begin to sense, however, that though things have gone wrong in both instances, Victoria has been loved, by both Elizabeth and Grant, developed friendships and confidence, a result of working for Renata, starting her own flower business, and grown emotionally.   So towards the end, we are not surprised when she returns, tentatively, to Grant, to see her baby, and eventually to Elizabeth, where she is welcomed and we assumed loved by both the rest of her life.

And I found that the book has an index of flowers and their meanings, an added attraction to owning the book.

Heat Wave Arrives, Four Degrees, An Apricot Haze Rises From The Shoreline

6:35

Up at 6:15, Venus once again bright in the south eastern sky, as dawn slowly arrives, the sky brilliant blue above, our tree a silhouette of falling branches of chaos and random natural disorder, difficult to capture in picture, with a beauty all its own.

I had to laugh at the final lines of this poem from today's The Writer's Almanac.  Most of us have been there, at the at uncomfortable high school reunion, wondering if you were still one of the 'coolest.'

The Reunion by Jack Ridl The last time I saw them we were young. Ginny was a cheerleader. Ben was getting A's in trig. Tonight we glance at nametags. Around the cheese tray, we say, "Of course I remember you." "Yes, four years ago. Things are better now." "No, she never graduated, moved. I don't know where." We look good. The food is just fine. The music brings it all back, and we dance the latest steps across our brain's prom floor. It's all the same. And nothing is. We're still dumb kids, just gray and tame. If we had it to do again, we'd get it right. Some are sure they got it right the first time. They ask for another Manhattan, dry martini, scotch on the rocks. They glisten in their tans. They watch the rest of us, the ones with comb-overs, two divorces, the ones who look for lower gas prices, a good night's sleep, group tours.

Also, today is the writer Richard Bratigan's birthday, the author of one of my early favorites, TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA.  I really like his description of the sun so I included it below:

"The sun was like a huge 50-cent piece that someone had poured kerosene on and then had lit with a match."

7:43 Here Comes The Sun

Yesterday continued to be cold though by afternoon, it was in the low teens yet most schools in the area were closed; open today, however,  according to NPR.  Yoga with Elise was fun as she tried some new stretches, one on our back, using two straps, working our hamstrings and thigh muscles. Everyone enjoyed it because we were not standing but  relaxing on our backs.  I did treat myself to a coffee at Ryder's Cup, then headed home to enjoy the afternoon of a living room filled with sunlight, the skies out our front windows a brilliant blue, rare for winters here at the lake, so we better enjoy it even though it was cold.

Cross Country Skiing the Campground

Lunch was a hot dog and vegetable soup, and we have just enough left for today's lunch, then tomorrow, we head of to Ohio University, in Athens, Ohio, for the weekend.  We watched Stewart and Colbert while eating lunch, then I read for awhile, napped, then around 4:00, decided I needed to do something so bundled up, put my new ear buds in my ears, turned on my mini iTouch, strapped on my skis, and went off in the 14º winter afternoon.  I did a loop around Woodlawn and the campground, following the roads though the woods, then down through the north end of Chautauqua Escapes to the lake, then back to our house, about a forty five minute trip.  It was cold but bearable, only my face feeling the brunt of the wind, but I loved being outside, sliding along the packed snow, listening to a playlist I made back in 2009, the tunes I had not listened to in a couple of years.

Enjoying The Seezurh House

Ron, with a Beer and Extra  Butter

At 6:00, the McClures came over, for a beer and appetizers before going out to dinner at the Seezurh House.  They had driven up yesterday afternoon, Tuesday, and hope to enjoy the lake for about ten days.  We had not seen them since the beginning of the month, so it was great to have them up here again.  After a beer, we went to the bustling village of Bemus Point, walked into an empty Seezurh House, only two or three patrons at the bar.  This happened to us once last year, as we felt like the only souls left at the lake.  We enjoyed ourselves, and our waitress Jill, a gal we have known for years, followed her career as she moves from one restaurant to another, as bartender, manager, now waitress on her off days from Wing City Grille, a busy girl, trying to make it on her own.  She is a snow mobile and jet ski aficionado, owns one of each, and had spent the previous night on her snow mobile, cruising on the lake and on the trails.  We had the ribeye special, no chicken platter for Evie this time, and enjoyed them. We caught up on what was happening in Murrysville, PA, and we filled them in what's been happening here at the lake... not much.  We stayed until about 9:00, came home and watched some of American Idol before heading up to bed, ready for a good night's sleep.

A Star Filled Dawn, A Toasty Seven Below

6:52

Venus and Selene (Greek Moon Goddess)  at 6:42

Crescent Moon at 6:41

Up at 6:00, to the planet Venus shining bright, high above Tom's Point, a sickle of a moon far below, an amazing vista this early.  In fact,  the sky is filled with stars this early, a rare sight on a winter morning here at Lake Chautauqua. It's 7 below, and it looks like another clear, frigid day at the lake.

Yesterday was a strange day; we did not think we should go outside for any length of time, which left out either hiking or cross country skiing though it looked, from inside, like a glorious day, sunny with blue skies.  So we relaxed a good part of the morning, then I downloaded a yoga App recommended to me by Julia Lescynski called Yoga Studio. It's cheap, $2.95 and has various lessons for beginner, intermediate and advanced, some 15 minutes, 30 minutes or an hour.  I did  two of the 15 minute classes just to see what it was like and I enjoyed it.  I set Evie's old iPad on the floor, turned on some cool tunes for background, and it was easy to follow, though she moved a bit fast from one pose to another.  Perhaps in the longer sessions she will hold some of the poses longer.  Anyways, it worked out well, so on days when I don't have yoga, I have an easy class at my finger tips.

We had an early lunch, of vegetables soup and fish tacos, using the tilapia from a couple of nights ago.  Lots of cabbage, sour cream, and hot sauce, and you have a great fish taco.  At 1:15, I drove off to the Dipson Theater in Lakewood to see the movie Lone Survivor since I had just finished the book.  Evie stayed home, doesn't much like shoot em up movies like this, and it was, at least 20-30 minutes of the four Seals battling the Taliban.  I was pleasantly surprised at how faithful it was to the book, with just a few added scenes, to make it more dramatic, thrilling, for the viewer. It would be hard not to sympathize with the Seals, and admire the Pashtuan's who harbor Luttrell and save his life.  I don't usually like a movie after I have read the book but this one was an exception.

When I got home, we decided to put together an eggplant pasta sauce, so Evie cut and fried up some eggplant and I retrieved a jar of Rao's Pasta sauce out of our pantry.  Once the eggplant was done, we merely poured the sauce over the eggplant, added salt and pepper and red pepper as needed, and we had a great sauce, perhaps not as good as the first time we made it in Istanbul (with fresh tomatoes), some forty years ago but still good.

Once dinner was made, we relaxed during the dusk, with a glass of wine and listened to Fox Five because there had been a wonderful satire last night by Jon Stewart on one of Fox's host, Sean Hannity and we wanted to hear if they had anything to say.  Fox news is fodder for much of the Stewart and Colbert shows' satire; it's the kind that just keeps giving.  And believe it or not, despite the 5º temperatures, a number of fishermen were out, starting around 4:30, no doubt having just gotten off work.

5:30 PM Die Hards

The eggplant tomato sauce on pasta was really tasty, the eggplant cooked just perfect, tender, spicy and juicy and we both commented on how much we enjoyed it.  We watched the fairly new Captain Phillips before the State of the Union and were both impressed by the film maker, by Tom Hanks, the amazing tension created even though we knew Hanks would survive.  And the Seals came off once again as spectacularly skilled and confident.  Wow, two Seal movies in one day.  The State of the Union was the same old, and listened wondering how anyone could disagree with what the President said, education and health care for everyone, no more wars, working to get nuclear weapons out of Iran, job creation but all we had to do was turn on Fox News afterwards to find out all he said was wrong.  I could not wait to get back to my book, to life in Great Britain, clear and simple, none of the polarity of today.  As I went upstairs, lights from snow mobiles blasted past Long Point, heading towards Mayville, in two below weather, at 10:00 in the evening, fortified perhaps by alcohol.

Twelve Below In The Shade But Clear, Blue Skies

7:36

7:39

7:42

Up at 6:45, a clear sky,  always a harbinger of arctic temperatures.  An inch or two of snow over night, most schools closed in Chautauqua Country, a good day to hunker down, stay in side, warm and cosy, with a fire, cup of tea, and a good book or two.  This is the first morning I have not seen anyone fishing on the lake; maybe they do have some common sense.  It's now 7:36, a red glow has appeared over Tom's Point, the first sign of a rising sun. I walked outside to get the paper and it didn't feel that cold, of course, I was out for about thirty seconds.

Yesterday was not as cold as today, still it was not much fun being out early for yoga at 9:30 and class was smaller than usual, a result no doubt of the chill.  We worked hard on our hips and back and I can feel it this morning in my connective tissues (the focus of Yin Yoga).  By the way, I didn't know I had connective tissues until I took this class.  I exhibited some discipline after class, skipped a coffee at Ryders Cup and drove to Mayville, to pick up a prescription and do some shopping at Tops.  The roads were fine though early, on my way to yoga, it was slow going.

That was it for the day, as far as excursions to the boonies of Chautauqua County.  I was thinking yesterday about the fact we have not been on the Fred Cusimano Westside Trail once this winter whereas in winter's past, we usually hiked it at least once every week or two.  The weather has just been too cold.  And today, they warn that even a few minutes outside with this wind chill,  of up to 30 below, could cause frost bite.

Pink Tulips (Affection), Still Healthy

We had a great lunch, a stir fry of rice, spinach, and veggies, spiced with soy, sriracha, and a drop of sesame oil, just right.  We ate lunch and watched the rest of the previous night's Grammy's.  We loved the duet of Carol King (Beautiful) and Sara Bareilles (her new song is Brave), a new diva, and the Macklemore rap/song, celebrating the marriage of thirty couples.  It was amazing though it did not bring me to tears like many people.  It was a hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies type of afternoon, as I was pulled further into The Light Years, a family saga set in Great Britain in 1937.  Around 4:15, I put on my winter clothes and despite the 10º temperature,  braved the cold and hiked the Woodlawn/Victoria woods, working up a sweat as I walked in the ten inch snow.  It was cold but bearable, worse when I was heading west, easier the rest of the way.  I walked out on the ice at Victoria, sunk into a couple inches of slush, angering me because it meant it was not good for cross  country skiing either.  I assume the layer of snow protects the ice from the cold, creating a layer of slush over the ice, at least that's my theory.

Hiking Woodlawn

We had an amazing dinner, pork schnitzel, so tender and delicious that I wondered why anyone needs veal.  Evie also made a casserole of scalloped potatoes, some Brussels sprouts, and salad, to make it another great meal, enough for another night, too, making it even better.  We watched the next episode of True Detective and like the previous episode, we thought it was too wordy, too much theorizing or philosophizing, without enough of the plot moving forward.  Some of our friends rhapsodized over this 'smart script' but we are more interested in a good story.  Anyways, we finished the night with the always shocking and amusing Real Time with Bill Maher.  He reminds me of George Carlin with his edgy, at times blasphemous religious satire.  I was happy to go upstairs early, to read, and I began another novel, James Lee Burke's newest, Light of the World, this time set in Montana, not New Orleans, but with the same two hardened  characters, Dave Robicheaux and his buddy, Clete Purcel.  It's good to be back with these two after a hiatus of perhaps ten years.  

LONE SURVIVOR: MARCUS LUTTRELL

This book immediately put me off, mostly because of the jingoistic, anti liberal, pro Bush point of view, with little tolerance for different ideas. It would have been much better without it, less honest I guess. That being said, Luttrell, like most of the Navy Seals, is much to be admired,  his tough, no nonsense, attitude, necessary for a Seal/warrior, putting your life on the line each day fighting enemies like Al Qaeda and the Taliban.  And Luttrell's swagger and 'our way or the highway' attitude might have been easier to take back in 2006 when this book was being written and we were not yet aware of what a mess Iraq and Afghanistan have become, a result of our war on terror, with little understanding of unintended consequences especially for the average citizens in those countries who may or may not be better off as a result of our both peaceful and military interference.

As I said, there's much to admire in  Navy Seals, their dedication, skill, persistence, loyalty, love of country, willingness to die for it as well as each other.  In a sense, they are the best of our young men, true warriors in the traditional sense, not out for glory but dedicated to duty, honor, country.  I admire Lutrell's  personal courage, toughness, work ethic, physicality.  I know, too, that I could not have lasted even one day of the Seal training whose goal is to break the individual, see who would quit, who was not strong enough, tough enough, both mentally and physical, to endure the weeks of training.  I wonder how anyone could survive it. The first fifty pages outline Seal training, an important preparation for the later sections of the book

The center of the book describes how Marcus and three other Seals are sent into the Hindu Kush, to search and find a Taliban leader, a dangerous mission to say the least; Marcus even mentions not feeling good about it, not as gung ho as usual on this mission.  And the Seals were all correct with their intuition, as they were caught in an ambush, fighting off 120 Taliban for hours  As they were fighting for their lives, they managed to send a distress signal to the Seals Headquarters.  A copter was immediately commandeered, and sixteen Seals jumped aboard, ready to rescue the Seals. Unfortunately, as they landed, a Taliban blew up the copter with all aboard, the worst loss in the history of the Seals up to 2005.

All this happened, however without Marcus knowledge.  He and his crew were too busy trying to survive.  Eventually, the odds were too great, and three of the four Seals were killed, with Marcus the exception,  either lucky or 'kissed by God,' my definition.  In trying to avoid the Taliban, he accidentally slid hundreds of feet, down a mountain side, into a gorge which hid him, from the searching Taliban.  Eventually, after crawling for seven miles, he was found by some Pashtun villagers who made the irrevocable decision to help him. This was not taken lightly as it meant that by protecting Marcus from the Taliban, they were putting their lives as well as their families in danger.

The last section describes the amazing hospitality of the Afghans, who dressed Marcus's wounds, hid him when his life was in danger, even stood ready with their guns and lives to defend him.  Eventually, a group of Army Rangers rescued Marcus, a result of a signal he was able to send from the village.  He was extracted, finally, flown to Germany, then home, with numerous broken bones, a terrible bacteria infection, which took months and many antibiotics to over come.

At the end, he describes the tremendous outpouring of support his parents received during the period when he was missing, as hundreds of friends and strangers, some flying in from all over the US, camped outside his parents house, offering their hopes and prayers.  The most poignant section was when Marcus, having vowed to visit the relatives of his killed Seal team, meets with them and recounts his friends' heroics.  An amazing story of training, survival, of love for country and Seal  teammates, and finally, the unexpected care and hospitality of  the 'supposed enemy, the Afghan villagers.  A good read.

Evangola, Long Point, WCA SOUPer Bowl

7:35

Loneliness of A Solitary Ice Fisherman (photo is NOT out of focus)

A morning of darkness at 6:30, the sound of strong winds whipping the trees, the canvas porch covers, the bird feeders.  It's 14º out, a couple of inches of snow overnight, but for now, the wind is the thing, howling, creating snow squalls on the lake.  A solitary fisherman sits on his bucket, his silhouette disappearing on and off behind the snow squalls, like white sand storms crossing a desert.

With David and Gabrielle from Evangola, and Kevin, from Long Point

Black Locust Trail

Yesterday, as I mentioned, we were to meet friends from the Evangola State Park at Long Point for cross country skiing.  Unfortunately, we were both waiting for each other at different parts of the park, figured the others had decided not to come, so we both started to ski and ended crossing paths in the woods.  We talked for a few minutes, laughed about our not connecting, talked about visiting them at Evangola, then went on our way, as they were hoping to meet another couple at the Marina.  Ironically, we passed them once again as we were finishing our skiing.  It was a fun day to cross country ski, the wind surprisingly tame, even along the west side of the park, where it's most ferocious.  We were out for about an hour, wished we could have spent more time with our  friends, but it was nice to see them again.  Neat people and we hope to connect with them in a couple of weeks, to see the ice volcanoes, perhaps ski some in the Evangola State Park.  

We returned home around 11:30, realized we wanted to go off to Lakewood mid afternoon, so Evie put together a quick breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast.  We watched CBS Sunday Morning, with Charles Osgood, the very best of regular television.  The show was celebrating its 35th year on TV,  begun years ago with host Charles Kuralt, who said about the show: "We dreamed up a program about music and art and nature. Because of its necessary preoccupation with politics and wars and calamities, television journalism doesn't get around to those gentler subjects very often." 

Our Neighbor's Daughter, Julie Maitland-Alpha, A Soup From Shawbucks

The Ash

r

Our Favorite, Twice Baked Potato Soup,  from Sandee's: caterers and owners of the cafe at Med Center at Riverwalk

Around 2:45, we drove to the Lakewood Rod and Gun, which was hosting the annual SOUPer Bowl Sunday, to benefit Jamestown's WCA Hospital.  Local restaurants put together their favorite soup recipes, served it to crowds in mini-steaming cups, who eventually voted for their favorite. We hung out for about an hour, tasting at least ten to twelve different soups, talking with the restaurateurs, deciding we like the twice baked potato soup best, with the chicken wing soup a close second.  The chicken wing soup won last year, but this year it was Fire Roasted Red Pepper soup, from La Scala. Unfortunately, it was gone when we arrived so we did not get to taste it. Nineteen restaurants participated and close to 500 people paid the twelve dollars admission fee to enjoy the soups, a real community event.  

Free Soup Bowls 

Hundreds Enjoy Their Soup

We came home around 5:00, loggy and full from our SOUPer Bowl Sunday, relaxed in our living room, Evie working on the photos from the day, me reading my new book, The Light Years, set in 1937 England, a series of five novels which reminds readers of Downtown Abbey, with its emphasis on Upstairs Downstairs.  So far, so good.  About 7:00 we roused ourselves from our books and vino and put together a taco dinner.

We watched some of the pre Grammy show, enjoying the various gowns, then Downton Abbey, where Bates finally discovers the truth about Anna's rape.  He's a curious mixture of sensitivity and violence, and no good will come of the violence.  At 10:00, after Downton Abbey, we returned to the Grammy's, loved Taylor Swift's song, and Pink was also amazing.  We did not stay up to the end but will watch the rest today, sans commercials.  

One Below Zero, Some Blue Skies

8:00

7:40

It was nice to see this poem, one of my favorites, which I taught many times, appear on today's The Writer's Almanac, the ignorance of youth, the regret of age.

Those Winter Sundays

by Robert Hayden

Sundays too
my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blue black cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the
cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently
to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

Both Evie and I slept in, if getting up at 7:30 is sleeping in.  It's obviously very cold out, yet there were at least three fishermen out when I got up and now, at 8:15, I can count seven more off of Long Point. It's supposed to get up to 21º today but tomorrow night, it goes down to 8 below zero, scary and unprecedented for us over the past five years.

Yesterday was a typical Saturday, up early for yoga at 9:00 with Chris, only three of us in class because of the bad weather.  Not only was it cold, but it was snowing fairly hard, making the roads slippery, so the roads were slow.  Class was fine, a sameness to Saturdays, but we all felt good after class, energized.  There was even a 5 K race in Lakewood at the same time as yoga, something that goes on at least once or twice a month in Lakewood, which is neat.  I stopped for a cup of coffee, picked up half a pound of their coffee, a Vienna roast which I really like, then went to Wegman's to pick up some groceries for dinner for the next couple of days.  Driving as I mentioned was slow going, fortunately, most everyone took their time, so it was not bad.  When I got home, Evie had shoveled the parking area and Shane had cleared the road.  I quickly put the trash in our car, and drove to the Transfer Station, to finish my duties for the day.

Turkish Tea and Home Made Chocolate Chip Cookie

By 1:00, besides shoveling the driveway, Evie had made a batch of chocolate chip cookies because we both have been craving a sweet, something with chocolate.  After a lunch of a chicken salad sandwich and Evie's vegetable soup, I settled into my chair, with my  book, and enjoyed a leisurely afternoon as did Evie.  Around 3:00, I had to make myself a  cup of Turkish tea, to go with the chocolate chip cookies.  At 4:00, I went out to cross country ski, despite the blowing snow and cold and found, to my dismay, the lake slushy, freezing my skis.  I quickly skied off on to our yard and skied down our road, into the campground where I was able to ski.  I was out for only a half hour, and my skis did freeze on the way home as I must have hit a wet spot on the road or in the woods.

Our Neighbors, Barb and Jim Fox, with Zaily (sp?)

At 5:00, we went over to our neighbors, Jim and Barb Fox' home, for a beer and some appetizers.  We had not seen them since before Christmas.  It was nice and cosy in their house, fireplace blazing, as we sat warm and happy inside, with food and drink.  They spent New Year's in Costa Rica, celebrating their thirtieth anniversary, so we found out all about their stay, making both of us interested in travelling there. Costa Rica sounds like an amazing place.   We stayed till about 6:45, then went home to an easy dinner, at my request, Sahleen hot dogs, with some Indian spiced garbanzos from Wegmans (not very good).  We watched a 2013 movie, Prisoners, not the kind we usually get from Netflix but we stuck with it, violence and all.  The plot, two girls are kidnapped and one of the father's takes the law into his own hands, by torturing a 'supposed' suspect, unknown to the police and lead detective. Not worth watching but there was little else on TV on a Saturday night.  We didn't get to bed till about 11:30, and I finished The Language of Flowers,  which I really liked, a perfect book club book, especially for women because it's mostly about women and flowers.

Two days ago, I received a comment on my blog from a guy we had met this past fall while kayaking with a group from Long Point to Maple Springs. We hit it off, exchanged phone numbers, and Evie told them about my blog.  He works at the Evangola State Park and in his comment, he mentioned that he along with  friends was coming to Long Point today, Sunday, at 10:00 and asked if Evie and I wanted to cross country ski with them.  How cool, so we will head over there for a short ski because of the cold.

A Couple of Inches Of Snow, A Toasty 16º

7:20

A rough night, couldn't get to sleep, perhaps because I was too much into my book.  I finally did get to sleep and morning came too quickly, as I was up just as Only A Game came on NPR, at 7:00.  A slight glow outside, as it's hard to distinguish the lake from the shoreline.  It's now 7:40 and I can finally make out the near shore line of the reeds but Long Point is still invisible and no fishermen yet.  Evie's up as well, enjoying a cup of java (sounds pretentious) and her mini iPad.

Yesterday, like many days recently, is vague, hardly a memory in my head, as one day blends in to another.  No yoga to give me me a morning goal, so I substituted a trip to the Honda dealer, in Jamestown, to get a free oil change (every fifth one is free).  I dropped the car off, walked over to Tops, the grocery store across the street, bought a Tim Horton coffee, and browsed the store for some deals, as they have lots of ten for a dollar deals, like Barilla pasta, a buck a piece.  I filled my basket with items, none of which Evie wanted I suppose but hey, they were a deal and we would use them sometime in the next year.  I threw all of the groceries in my backpack, walked back to the dealer, but stopped at a flower shop, to find something for a vase Beth came us from Franklin Pierce in Vermont.  I found a green succulent, nothing special but it's green and flows over the edge of the vase.  I am becoming quite the flower guy.  I picked up my car, free oil change and no problems, enshallah and drove home the long way, along the lake, on the east side, enjoying seeing homes along the lake instead of the highway.

My Pathetic Attempts At Finding Green Plants

Evie went to the mall, to Master Cuts, for a hair cut with her gal, Casey, with striking red and black hair.  Evie really likes her, so it's fun.  I stayed home, forced inside by the single digits, and for some reason the word 'vicarious' came to mind, describing my life lately, perhaps since I retired.  And it seemed apt, as I do spend a good amount of time living through others, in my books during the day, in TV programs like Breaking Bad or Mad Men during the evening.  What happened to carpe diem, quenching the thirst for adventure with experience!  I suppose our forays into the woods, on trails,  either hiking or cross country skiing are adventures when we are retired, better than nothing.  Still, I hunger for adventure but when I think about all the planning, the packing, the getting there, the effort, I get tired, sit back on my couch, pull out a good book and am happy, even thinking I might want a dog.

Evie did some shopping after Master Cuts, and she picked up some tilapia, something we have not had for a long time.  She came home and before dinner, had a call from our granddaughter, Marisa, on Face Time, and the two of them talked for an hour.  It's amazing how comfortable the granddaughters are on Face Time, talking away, about themselves, about what they are doing at the moment, and watching Marisa's latest gymnastic moves.  It's a tribute to Granny that they are so comfortable talking with her, and something to enjoy because when they get older, it won't happen.  While Evie talked, I went outside and did some shoveling on the lake, beginning try to clear an ice skating rink but the ice was slushy in near the wall, hard to shovel.

Face Timing With Marisa, With Evie In Upper Right Hand Corner

For dinner, Evie breaded the tilapia, baked it for twenty minutes, as I chopped up the garlic, for spinach and made some tartar sauce, my brother in law Rich's method, with dill pickles and capers.  Evie had also bought a broccoli slaw with cranberries and sunflower seeds from Sam's, which rounded out a great dinner.  Nothing special on TV, the usual, Stewart and Colbert and two or three episodes of Diners, Drive In's, and Dives, which always leaves me hungry.  We stayed up later than usual, turning the bedroom light off at 11:30, maybe the reason I had a hard time getting to sleep.

Helios Rises, High and Majestic, Above An Ominous Cloud Bank

Sunrise, Yesterday Morning at 8:00

7:49

8:15

It's now 8:20, very cold out, 2º, the sun reflecting off the lake's surface, though a line of a broad swatch of gray hovers over the eastern coast of the lake.  A wisp of wind, and a single fisherman has been out for the past hour.  A wind chill advisory ends today at noon as a winter storm advisory begins.  I cannot help thinking about our wonderful time in Scottsdale last April, hiking the sun drenched mountains in the morning, coming home to a comfy casita, enjoying the rest of the day with Evie's sister Claire and husband Henry.  We always want what we don't have...the trick to enjoy what we have.

It's obvious I am getting antsy, at sixes and sevens, tired of sitting inside, going out briefly for a hike or cross country skiing.  It's just too cold to be out for long and there's not much snow, three or four inches, but nothing like what we had last year or that's the way it seems.  Yoga becomes the high point of the day, giving me a reason to get out of Evie's hair in the morning for a couple of hours.  And I think lots of people feel the same way as me as yoga is packed, any reason to get out of the house on bitterly cold days. After yoga, I drove to Wegman's, picked out some pink tulips, to cheer up Evie's day, influenced for sure by the book I am reading The Language of Flowers.  During Victorian times, I did not realize that flowers were a form of communication, even courting and each flower had a meaning and in this case, pink tulips means 'caring and affection.' Perfect.

Pink Tulips, "Caring and Affection'

Yesterday started, however, with breakfast at the Bemus Point Inn, with Charlie Heinz.  Most of the rest of our  morning crew are in Florida, enjoying no doubt our plight up here in the arctic North.  Even the Bemus Point Inn seemed quieter than usual, perhaps because of the cold.  It did not deter Charlie Klingingsmith, however, always ready with a quip for one of our group.  Finally, as I crossed the bridge, I noticed a lakefront owner had taken his snow blower out onto the lake, created a perfect circular skating pond (75 feet in diameter), and pulled out a picnic table on to the ice.  Cool.

For lunch, I heated up soup for both Evie and me, and made an egg salad wrap, with siracha to give it a kick. And I spent the rest of the afternoon, immersed in the mountains of Afghanistan, with Seal Marcus Luttrell, as his team is ultimately destroyed by a army of hundreds of Taliban, with only Marcus surviving, miraculously, because a group of Pashtun villagers, Taliban sympathizers, have a strong code of hospitality, like the Greeks.

I did get outside to ski around 5:00, braving the wind, skiing down to Chautauqua Escapes, through the campground, back along the lake.  When there was no wind, it was actually pleasant to be outside but let the wind pick up, I just wanted to get home.  For dinner, we had soup and chicken sandwiches, with avocados, easy and good.  No movies last night, more Colbert, Tribeck, then American Idol.  I had also read about a new show called Rake, with Greg Kinnear.  So we stayed with this silly attempt at entertainment till 10:00 but never again.  It's hard to believe someone invested in this silly, predictable comedy but we say that about a lot of very successful series.  Anyways, I wanted to get back to my book, The Language of Flowers, which I also am really enjoying, so different from my afternoon reading, Lone Survivor.

WOLF HALL: HILLARY MANTEL

It's easy to see why Mantel's work won the Booker Prize, a tour de force of the world of Henry the VIII and his advisor Thomas Cromwell.  I admit to struggling with it,  that it took me quite awhile to work my way through the tomb, able to read it mostly in small doses.  Summarizing it would be just as difficult, as there is a cast of at least fifty characters, all historical, and the book based  much of its narrative on fact.

There are two major parts, the first section where Thomas Cromwell cuts his teeth as chief councilor to Cardinal Wolsey, Bishop of Rome and Lord Chancellor to King Henry VIII. Wolsey wields power dictatorially and his downfall comes when he fails to gain an annulment for Henry's marriage to Catherine of Aragon so he could marry Anne Boleyn, who he hopes will present him with a male heir. Anne succeeds in convincing Henry that Wolsey was plotting against him, and Wolsey is arrested in 1529 and all his property was taken away.  He dies when moved from one reclaimed residence to another.  All of this we see through the eyes of Thomas Cromwell, son of a blacksmith, who loves and admires Wolsey, but benefits from his fall.

The second half deals with Cromwell's rise to prominence, to power, respected by Henry and Anne, thus his success.  Much of the last half of the book allows us into the mind Cromwell, how he becomes successful in gaining an annulment for Henry's marriage to Catherine and becomes a strong advocate of the English Reformation, which saw Henry become head of the Church of England rather than the Pope.  A sub plot involves Sir Thomas More and his refusal to go along with the annulment of Catherine's marriage, the English Reformation, and Henry's head of the Church of England.  This refusal, or moral courage,  results, eventually, in More's head being chopped off for refusing to go along with Henry VIII's desires.  Cromwell does all he can to convince More to acquiesce but More refuses to compromise his principles.  This text ends with More's death, the ascent of Henry as head of the church, and marriage to Anne though there are hints it won't last long, as we know.

The book is tremendously well researched, so that you feel you are right there with Thomas, solving all all the problems of early 16th century Great Britain, balancing competing interests,  as well as pleasing a King and his wife.  It takes great subtly and diplomacy, knowing when to keep your mouth shout, a suggestion of compliance but artful, rational, and convincing arguments, so that Cromwell's ideas end up becoming those of the King.  We could certainly use him in today's Congress. I found the book fascinating, filled with facts and history, but as compelling as I thought it would be.  I am going to wait a couple of months to read the sequel,  Bring Up The Bodies, which narrates, I assume, the fall of Cromwell.

A Bone Chilling Morning At The Lake

7:33

Up at 6:20, just above zero outside, like its been the last couple of days. The weatherman expects it to last at least through the weekend.  These cold spells are getting crazy and I don't want to see my gas bill, pity the people on the East coast who have heating oil.  Even I am thinking of how nice it must be in Florida.

Yesterday was a very cold morning of course and I had to chip the ice off of the windows of my car so that I could make it to yoga.  Not the way you want to start you day  but at least I did not have to get out there until 9:35.  Yoga seems to be gaining popularity as the last couple of weeks, all my classes, no matter which teacher, have been fairly crowded, a good sign.  And I have noticde there are a number of new people, as well as returnees, who, like me, have signed up for the monthly unlimited, and come every day to class.  It's the best deal by far, seventy dollars for a month, so people seem to be waking up to its value and availability every day if you wish.

Skiing In Sun

In Snow Storm

When I got home, Evie had made a pot of vegetable soup, but I had one bowl of my winter vegetable minestrone left from last week.  So I heated that up in the microwave, made tuna with mayo and celery, put it in a wrap, and enjoyed a healthy lunch, watching another episode of Banshee.  Evie decided to work out early afternoon at the YMCA, so she left about 1:30, and did some shopping as well at T.J's and Sam's Club, not getting back until late afternoon.  About 5:00, I needed to get outside, test the cold, so I went for a long hike through the woods, and up and around the campground, for about forty five minutes.  Despite the 4º temperatures, I was able to stay warm, as only my face, which was uncovered, got cold.  It was great to be outside at this hour, dusk, and I saw nobody on my walk, the campground quiet and empty, with nary a camper.

Dusk From Kinney's Trail

For dinner, we had rotisserie chicken, and Evie also made roasted asparagus, a salad with blue cheese dressing, and mashed potatoes and gravy.  She knows I love mashed potatoes and gravy, just the perfect accompaniment for chicken.  We watched Colbert and Stewart, then a movie I had heard about on the radio as one of the best independent movies of 2013 called The Spectacular Now.  It's a teen movie, but not your typical kind, laced with sex, vulgarity and grossness.  This one follows the life of
Sudder, the popular and hard partying kid in school, living the life of carpe diem, until his girl friend leaves him. He then takes pity on the school's 'nice girl', Aimee (she played the daughter in The Descendants whom we both loved).  Here, she's a wallflower, the classes forgotten girl, and they develop a relationship though he can never quite forget about his old girl friend. Because of his live for the moment philosophy, he does poorly in school, drinks constantly to keep himself 'happy' and only towards the end, when he finds out his absent father is a drunk, his life is leading nowhere, and loses his job, does he have an epiphany about himself.  Finally understanding himself, he lets his new girl friend leave for college, without saying goodbye, knowing that he has not been good for her.  The movie ends with him seemingly changed, having filled out his college application, and he drives to his girl friends college, meets her on the steps of the school building, she sees him, they look at each other and the movie ends.  I likde it more than Evie but then I am a sucker for teen angst and found this original and interesting.  3 1/2 stars.

THE SENTRY: ROBERT CRAIS

Another Joe Pike and Elvis Cole thriller, set in Los Angeles, among schemers and drug dealers. I read it along with Hilary Mantel's WOLF HALL, as a break from the density of Mantel's prose, the world of Henry VIII, a bit of fluff next to an intricate cob web.   Joe happens upon a robbery of a small diner, steps in, shoots one of the assailants, the other gets away.  The owner just happens to have a 'beautiful niece,' and Joe immediately falls for her, asks her out, tells her he will 'take care of her.'  Thus, the story begins.  Rose, the girl,  ends up not being what he thought; that she, along with the owner of the small restaurant, Rainey, were fleeing from a drug cartel from whom they had stolen millions of dollars.

Joe gets a call from her, Rose, to say she has been kidnapped by the cartel and unless her boy friend gives back the money, she will be killed.  The police and FBI are now involved but neither care nor know as much about the case as Joe Pike.  Along with Elvis, he sets up a meeting place, out smarts the killer known only as the 'executioner', but in the gun fight, both Rose and her boy friend get killed, breaking Joe's heart as well as Elvis's because he, Elvis, has to shoot her as she was about to blow Joe away and flee with the money.  Joe sure knows how to pick his women..

The narration is different in this novel as we often are let into the mind of the 'executioner,' Daniel, to see what he is thinking as he goes after his prey, in this case, Rose and Joe Pike.   The story does not end here with Daniel's death.  Joe looks for the money, knows its hidden somewhere, and after diving in a near by canal, part of Venice, he finds bags of it, which he takes home, only to find that one of the DEA guys has decided to go rogue and steal the money.  Joe, of course, blows him away, takes a sack of the money and leaves it at the door of a half way house for wayward boys, and so the novel ends, with Joe and Elvis drinking a beer on Elvis's porch, looking out over LA towards the ocean, thinking back on the past couple of weeks, on what could have been if only.

Two Below But Sunny and Blue Skies

7:47

7:48

Up at 7:15 to a very cold morning, hard to breathe when I walked out to pick up the Post Journal. Some colors off towards Tom's Point, as the sun rises somewhere to the east, not here yet.  The fishermen are smart enough to stay off the lake early though I witnessed a couple of guys trotting out on the lake late afternoon.  It' now 8:37, bright sun fills our living room, light snow, barely perceptible, like shards of broken glass, fall from the skies.

Yesterday was the beginning of more arctic days here at the lake, making it difficult to enjoy doing anything outside.  In other words, it was a good day to stay inside, enjoy the warmth and comfort of our home, do a couple of chores, but mainly relax, read, watch some TV and, yes, wait for the plumber, who finally appeared around 4:30.  Our upstairs faucet, in the tub, had no hot water.  After much wrangling with the faucet, he found that a gasket was broken, not allowing the hot water to enter the faucet.  He put the handle back on, but it was backward, had to redo it and finally, around 5:00, we had hot water again for that bathtub.

Downy Woodpecker

A Sparrow, Huddling to Keep Warm in Arctic Temperatures

We did try to ski in the morning, wanting to get in some exercise, so  out we went around 10:00, to a brutally cold morning, especially when we headed into the wind.  I stuck it out for about 15 minutes but my skis were still frozen on the bottoms from my previous day's skiing, so I hung it up.  Evie stayed out for another 15 minutes, skiing in circles, and in the yards, to get some exercise.  But that was about it for our morning cross country ski.

I had leftover Cincinnati chili for lunch, watched another sex and violence filled episode of Banshee (guiltily I might add), then spent a good part of the afternoon reading Lone Survivor, the book on which the current movie, with Mark Wahlberg, is based and it is getting fairly good reviews, at least from the viewers.  Coincidentally, two conservative columnists' in today's Post Journal talked about how the liberal press are panning it because it's not politically correct, calling it "Racist, Simplistic, Propaganda" The book, so far, has put me off a bit by the writer's jingoism and hatred for liberals, love for Junior, but he is also to be admired, as he describes the training it takes to become a Navy Seal.  I could not have lasted an hour in their training, let alone the seven months it takes.

I know what the liberal press means, why they might have trouble with it.  But then, they are not in the Hindu Kush, facing death at any moment, knowing that these guys want to kill you.  Perhaps they, the liberal press, might also hate these guys, who just happen to be Muslim and Brown.  My sympathies are with the Seals despite my discomfort with some of their attitude's and beliefs at home.  But these beliefs are also the things that allow them to survive and protect the US on the battlefield, seeing things in black and white, good and bad, us and them.  They are to be admired.

Late afternoon, I decided I needed some exercise, so I cross country skied in the Victoria woods, the loop, and it was not as cold, as the wind was broken by the trees, as well as being off the lake.  Only when I returned home along the lake front was I hit by the bitterly cold wind, burning my face.  It did feel good to be outside, after most of the day in the house.

Dusk

We had the leftover chicken and biscuits for dinner, so quite good, along with a salad with avocado, which turns any salad into something special.  We watched Colbert and Stewart, Sajak and Tribeck, tried to watch the new series on HBO called Looking, about gays in San Francisco, but switched channels after about twenty minutes, as the show seemed single minded in its emphasis on guys only interested in hooking up.  I assume there's more to life for gays than that, so this series does them a real disservice in stereotyping them.  Anyways, we watched some random TV after that, went to bed, started a new book,  The Language of Flowers, thinking that reading two books at at once, both quite different is a good idea and nothing can be more different than these two.!