Ten Degrees

7:05

8:47

It’s 8:00, and we’re both up, unsettled by the news of what’s being called “Epic Fury,” a seemingly all-out war unfolding in the Middle East. It’s not just Iran being struck, but much of the surrounding region as well. At the moment, Hegsseth is on television, rambling through what sounds like one questionable claim after another, all under the direction of our “brave” leader—bone-spurs Trump. “This is not an endless war,” he insists, without acknowledging the widespread damage across the region. His final words linger: “The war will end on Trump’s choosing, nobody else’s.” Scary. He ends his talk with no plans, just prayers. 

Sunday felt strange for another reason: the absence of ice fishing on the lake. On Saturday, it had been lively, not only with fishermen but with families simply enjoying being out on the ice. Yesterday, though, there was hardly a tent in sight.

Thunder Bridge

Our morning passed quickly, much of it spent listening to updates from the Middle East—what else? No mention of Epstein, nothing about Congress questioning Hillary and Bill Clinton.  Around 10:30, I headed out for my usual Sunday stroll around the Chautauqua Institution. Though the streets were snow-covered, they weren’t icy or slippery, thankfully. On my way out, I ran into our neighbors walking Ripley.

Walking The CI

Brick Walk

I was home by 11:30 and having lunch an hour later—two fried eggs with avocado and tomato on toast, simple and delicious. I looked for something to watch and sampled a couple of thrillers, but none held my attention, so I switched to some NBA basketball. The afternoon slipped by, and by 5:00 I was showered and ready to head out to dinner with our friends Linda and Ron.

I should mention I’ve given up on both Paper Girl—too repetitive—and The Hallmarked Man, which feels endless; I’m only 20 percent in with 80 percent left to go. Instead, I started Nineteen Minutes, a much-recommended thriller by Jodi Picoult.

3:32

5:38

We picked up Linda and Ron at 6:00 and drove a couple of miles to Pueblo Real, a fairly new restaurant in Mayville. It was busy for a Sunday evening. We ordered Mexican beers and studied the enormous menu. Evie and Linda chose Mexican salads; I went with enchiladas verdes, hoping for something memorable, but they were average—nothing special. We left around 8:00 and were home by 8:20. Evie was tired and headed to bed. I stayed up, searching again for something to watch, and finally settled on The Sandhamn Murders, set in Sweden, and watched the first two episodes.

Just a reminder, Putin is quoted in 2014 as saying, "We could take Kyiv in two weeks," and his military planners assumed, before invading Ukraine in February 2022, that they could take Ukraine in three or four weeks. Four plus years later, Russia still has not taken Kyiv and has lost 1.2 million military personnel. 

Winter Returns

7:26

8:45

I woke to a dusting of snow, 16°, and an overcast sky — quite a contrast to yesterday’s sun and warmth. It won’t last long, though; by Friday, temperatures are expected to climb into the 60s. Interestingly, no fishing tents hug Long Point this morning.

I am already weary of the blather about the invasion of Iran. I know it’s consequential, but I feel exhausted by the relentless news cycle this past year — by all of Trump’s words and actions, and by the media’s reaction to them. I find myself longing for the innocence of the 1950s, when life seemed simpler — though of course it wasn’t. It only felt that way because we weren’t bombarded around the clock by the media. There was the radio, three television channels, the 6:00 news, and a couple of newspapers that focused mostly on local events. Enough.

Yesterday, as I mentioned, was another glorious day of sun and blue skies. The lake was alive with activity — even what looked like family gatherings — at least from the vantage point of our porch. Saturday morning unfolded in its usual way. Saturdays still feel more leisurely, though in retirement, they are not truly different from weekdays. It is always the weekend.

Chautauqua Lake Family Fun

By 11:00, the blog was written, breakfast eaten, and the trash gathered, so I headed to the Transfer Station. From there, I drove to Wegmans, stopping briefly at Ryder’s Cup, but it was so crowded I quickly left. Wegmans is always busy on weekends, but I found what I needed and checked out without much delay. On the way home, I stopped for a car wash, optimistically assuming winter was over — poor planning, as it turns out.

Campground

I was home by noon and decided to take a walk before lunch. I chose the campground, cutting through the front yards of Woodlawn to get there. I followed my usual route, circling the campground, and passed a group of four people, each walking a small dog. The snow and ice had melted from the road, so I left my crampons on a bench and retrieved them on my way back.

Lunch was leftover mushroom and cream pasta, and I finished the series Dear Child. For such an unsettling story, the ending felt oddly anticlimactic. We have finally added Paramount+ and Peacock to our television repertoire — both free through Spectrum. It was an onerous process, but Evie persevered, and now we can watch Landman.

The rest of the afternoon slipped by: a nap, some reading, a bit of basketball, and watching the clusters of families and ice fishermen gathered on the lake. At five, we enjoyed sushi from Wegmans, Issa's pita chips and hummus, and a glass or two of wine. Dinner required little effort since I had picked up pizza and udon noodles earlier. After an episode of Paradise and The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, Evie went to bed. I stayed up to watch more basketball and search — without much success — for a new series to begin. In the end, I was happy to return to my book.