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| 6:54 |
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| 8:52 |
It's 7:45 and I have been up an hour on an uncomfortably warm day as it may get up in the 70s later before the thunderstorms. All is gray out my window, lake and sky, with a 10 mph southerly breeze. It's 9:15 as I finish this. I was out kayaking for forty-five minutes, down to Sandy Bottom, then across to Long Point chasing loons. When I kayaked home, just as I was in front of our house, I noticed a pair of wood ducks, in our yard, looking for something to eat I assume.
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| Wood Ducks In Our Front Yard This Morning |
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| Waddling Off Towards Our Front Steps |
Yesterday was dominated by the arrival of six yards of #1 round stones for my parking area and road. Just as I was about to kayak, the stone arrived so I put off a great kayak while he unloaded the stones in various areas. I then kayaked for an hour, over to Long Point, then returned and wrote the blog and had breakfast. I then went out and got out my rake and snow shovel and began to even out the piles of stones, being careful to not overdo it. After 15 or 20 minutes of work, I came inside, stretched some and then put a heating pad on my back as I read some.
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| Kayak Morning |
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| Loons |
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| A Noble Loon |
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| Diving |
Evie made my lunch, tuna sandwiches on a bagel then took off to Jamestown to get a blood test and do some shopping at Aldis and Wegmans. I decided to watch Netflix's The Night Agent. I then read some, my new Dismas Hardy book, and tried to nap but decided to get back outside and move stones for a half hour. I am getting there and will need to get out today once or twice to have the stones leveled.
Evie was home by 3:30, and had a Zoom call with her sisters at 5:00. We then enjoyed a nice happy hour, with pretzels and hummus until 7:00. Dinner was rigatoni, mushrooms, and a homemade tomato sauce Evie put together in the morning. We made the mistake of watching 15 or 20 minutes of Drumpt's lying Mar A Lago diatribe. We had enough and were happy to get back to our regulars, Jeopardy and an HGTV show.
Although the sentiments in this poem might be old fashion in today's world, I liked it. And it could just as easily be written by a man.
I was seventy-seven, come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I've experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.
When you come to this time of abatement,
To this passing from Summer to Fall,
It is manners to issue a statement
As to what you got out of it all.
So I'll say, though reflection unnerves me
And pronouncements I dodge as I can,
That I think (if my memory serves me)
There was nothing more fun than a man!
In my youth, when the crescent was too wan
To embarrass with beams from above,
By the aid of some local Don Juan
I fell into the habit of love.
And I learned how to kiss and be merry- an
Education left better unsung.
My neglect of the waters Pierian
Was a scandal, when Grandma was young.
Though the shabby unbalanced the splendid,
And the bitter outmeasured the sweet,
I should certainly do as I then did,
Were I given the chance to repeat.
For contrition is hollow and wraithful,
And regret is no part of my plan,
And I think (if my memory's faithful)
There was nothing more fun than a man!
Dorothy Parker: (1893-1967)
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