Tuesday, January 18, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon” is Waning Gibbous; February’s “Snow Moon” rises @ fullest on February 16.)}

Susie and I missed an earliest sight of the rising Wolf Moon for not finding an unemcumbered horizon. Upon spotting an already rising moon just above a horizon of trees that lined a huge field, we hurried to park and start capturing.

This rise was unique for occurring in still-daylight. So early, that by turning we could witness a spectacular sunset.

Farther away by hundreds of yards sunlight illuminated a portion of the Cascades, and in the foreground these dozing drafts.

The magnificant moon continuing to rise, appeared smaller with increasing height.

We’ve photographed nearly a year’s worth of moonrises, and never in so much remaining daylight. Yesterday’s unique evening gave us enough light to photograph the moon, our country surroundings, and parts of the mountain range.

As the light faded, and in a scene reminiscent of the long-ago Movietone TravelLogs that closed with a waning sunset, we bade farewell to the sun.

Except for its reflecting light, revealing January’s fullest moon. We enjoyed seeing that while hanging out and talking in Susie’s Mobile Moon Chaser.

Dear Friends: So much beauty out east in the middle of “nowhere”. Diana

Monday, January 17, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon” rising tonight, this month’s fullest moon.)}

A customer at my register said she has a dog, a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon. I asked her to bring the dog in the next time she’s in the store. She agreed and asked for a bag of duck food. “Yes,” she said, “I have a couple of ducks, inherited them not long ago.”

“Do you eat their eggs?”

“No, they lay eggs but I don’t eat them.”

“I’m curious because I’m about to adopt two hen turkeys from a fellow who used to raise ducks. He says turkey eggs taste a bit gamey but are better than duck eggs, which are way too gamey to eat straight from the shells.”

“That’s interesting and something I’ve not heard.” She removed her credit card from a reader, laughed and said, “I’ll bring you some duck eggs.”

I laughed, too, “Good!” As she turned to leave, I added, “When my turkeys are in place, I’ll bring you turkey eggs.”

We waved and that was that. Weeks ago.

Yesterday, a fellow cashier radioed while I was in the break room. “Diana, can you come up front? There’s someone here to see you.”

As I headed toward the registers, a woman stopped me. She held a leash attached to a beautiful big dog. “Diana,” she said, holding out a small package, “I’m Katherine, we talked. I’m bringing you duck eggs.”

Well, I was blown away. She held out a package with three white large eggs.

She pointed to them, “One for some reason is much bigger than the others,” she shrugged, “but I want you to have them all.”

I was touched by her kindness, her generosity. “I’ll cook one tonight for dinner and let you know how it tastes, whether it’s overly gamey!”

Her dog, the Wirehaired Pointing Griffon, is a stunning knockout. The breed isn’t common in this area. Since it’s against store rules to play with my cellphone while working, here are photos from the internet. In them as well as in real life, this is an athletic dog with a substantial muzzle and long wirehair half-hiding expressive eyes. The facial structure and deepset eyes are very appealing.

I enjoyed meeting Katherine’s sweet, energetic dog.

About those duck eggs: I poached the biggest, which by-the-way had a double-yolk. I gobbled it–Totally Delicious!

Folks like Katherine who care about their animals are why I love working in that feed store. The store now is preparing to start bringing in baby chicks. Maybe I’ll adopt a couple of ducks!

Dear Friends: I’m a “bird person”, love those smart critters, they give us their all. Diana

Sunday, January 16, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon”, now Waxing Gibbous, will rise tomorrow as this month’s fullest moon.)}

The now waxing moon is gorgeous in a sky that’s clearer. Early today, Wolf Moon is visible straight over west and setting behind the Cascades. Our warming weather and inviting atmosphere will provide good conditions tomorrow as Susie and I experience and photograph the full Wolf Moon.

Fortunately, I’ll be off from work tomorrow and free to chase that moon.

I’ve been considering the moon’s continuous appeal and subconscious significance to humans since time immemorial. My thoughts about the moon might be perceptive, but too little so to grasp its forever impact and meaningfulness vis a vis humans.

So, I’ll embark on research, part of which will be re-reading some Shakespeare works. He describes as well as, or better than anyone, “Moon’s impact”. I hope to build a larger narrative around Susie’s and my moon chasing experiences this past year. I’ll be looking for history and intelligence to enlighten and strengthen our experiences.

At the very least Susie and I will learn. At the very best, we will design a narrative to share with everybody.

Dear Friends: While watching Wolf Moon use your imagination, sense your feelings. Diana

Saturday, January 15, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon”, now Waxing Gibbous, will rise as month’s fullest moon on the 17th.)}

This will be short for I’m due at work in a couple of hours. Before leaving I have animals inside and outside waiting for their food. On these early-to-work days I arise earlier than usual to write a blog, and sometimes like today, become involved with the news and lose track of time.

Briefly, I’m reading a special edition from “The Economist”, entitled “The World Ahead 2022”. It’s a worldwide summary of trends in leadership, technology, finance, weaponry, space, potential threats of war, and all else causing wonder. Every chapter is laced with fallout from the pandemic, social divisiveness, tensions among superpowers, and supply chain woes.

A big deal is what might evolve in terms of our working lives. People working from home raise challenges about how to keep everything fair among all employees. In other words, those who choose to return to the office have an advantage of being able to suck up to the boss.

Future worries are hampering my creativity. At the bottom line, 2022 may be a game-changer. Here in America, the mid-term elections will affect all our lives.

These days, a question rages, what is Democracy?

Dear Friends: Happily, the moon will glow, has a dependable schedule. Diana

Friday, January 14, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon”, now Waxing Gibbous, will rise as month’s fullest moon on the 17th.)}

Recently, I enjoyed a couple hours on Facetime with my longest-time friend, Jan. She still lives in Kansas City where I spent my young adult years. Over time, our lives moved in different directions, but periodically, we re-find and rekindle deep connections.

We matured in a city that offered easy availability to culture. We centered our activities in the City’s Plaza. We hung out around large fountains studded with magnificent sculptures, spent time at the Nelson-Atkins Art Gallery. We discussed art and its impact, watched movies old and new, and delved into creativity’s deep messages and meanings.

With Jan and me, there’s magic of freely talking, mutually appreciating and learning.

It’s one thing, needing to express perceptions and feelings. That needs an environment that invites open exchanges. Art and movies can create one.

Jan and I spent hours at The Atkins staring at canvases. We loved works by Thomas Hart Benton, a modern, timeless artist who lived in Kansas City. Benton’s works flow visually. They poetically capture moments and a timelessness that expresses an “always”. We delved into his brush strokes, intentions, messages.

It was the same with films–seeing, feeling, thinking, analyzing, discussing. We parked perceptions in our brains for more developing later. We were young, enthusiastic idealists.

This week via Facetime, we nodded to fading idealism, but shared non-fading enthusiasm for creativity and style. After discussing current cultural trends, we assigned ourselves “movie tasks”. In upcoming weeks, each will watch films the other considers fine. Then we’ll meet and discuss via Facetime.

It’s a relief to speak freely, listen actively, not fearing of someone diminishing enthusiasm. The best label for individuals feeling connected, appreciated, and valuable, is therapy.

Dear Friends: It’s off to movies, via streaming, and creators’ visions, via YouTube. Diana

Thursday, January 13, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon” is Waxing Gibbous, will rise as month’s fullest moon on the 17th.)}

This morning, I’m steeped in rock ‘n roll, listening to music featuring Ronnie Spector. She was lead singer of The Ronettes, a 1060s vocal trio. They were a powerful trio who transformed girl-group music. One of their biggest hits, “Be My Baby”, is a best-example of early big-music producing.

Listen to them: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSPpbOGnFgk&feature=emb_imp_woyt

Yesterday, this great singer died from cancer, at age 78. Her big voice, similar to that of Mama Cass, was correct. A pioneer, she transformed “girl-singing” in times when getting ahead wasn’t easy for for women in general, and much harder for women of color. She married her genius helper, the crazy music producer, Phil Spector. His creative backup sounds helped to make her a singing star. She paid a price of long personal abuse from him.

Early technology made The Music Business a fantastic, wonderful avenue of pursuit for talented young people. The scene wasn’t all-pretty, with entrepreneurs like Phil Spector moving things along, creating chaos.

Technologies continued to advance, bringing the personal computer, and more. Technological changes offering new creative avenues tempted talented youths. No longer was music the only potentially progressive path for promising individuals.

I grew up in times that brought new musical individualism and progressive technologies. Both still are powerful social factors. But technologies have and keep-continuing to affect us all.

It’s joyous, hearing the Ronettes. As evidenced by Ronnie’s story, the group’s sounds don’t represent “simpler times”. Instead, its sounds and success recall a hopeful era preceding the onset of highly-complex technology.

Dear Friends: Modern societies hope that ahead offers new-hope eras. Diana

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon” is Waxing Gibbous, will rise as month’s fullest moon on the 17th.)}

Today, I shall begin to build a chicken coop, one relatively simple. That is simple in design but complicated for my carpentry skills. I’m eager to tackle the challenge.

My friend Dave came over and saw the space where a coop should go. He explained how to build one and kindly offered to do it for me. That sounded good, until I started thinking about how I’d like to try building it myself.

As a transplanted city gal who’s now a country gal, I should be able to build simple structures. I remember several years ago being at a rancher-friend’s place. My friend and I stood in a corral talking, while nearby her stepmother constructed a well house. I watched as that woman added support and siding to studs set into the ground. I hoped someday I’d learn to be more handy, feel more independent.

Now there’s an opportunity for hands-on learning. Little matter if the coop isn’t beautiful, long as it’s functional. I have carpentry tools, plenty of 2×4’s, am highly motivated. The completed coop will house two hen turkeys and three chickens that I’m adopting.

Speaking of adopting fowl, the store where I’m a part-time worker is preparing to bring in baby chicks. The bins are ready and chicks will arrive in a couple of weeks. I’ll learn how the presence of those cuties affects customers. Many who already have chickens might add to their flocks, while many will struggle about adding. Not much is cuter than tiny chickens, ducks, and turkeys.

I must avert my eyes from all filled bins. I’ll pretend I’m undertaking a weight-losing diet and re-training my brain, making it capable of rejecting starches and sugars. Nope, no new babies at my place!

Dear Friends: Starches, sugars, and new baby chicks. Oy vey! Diana

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon” is Waxing Gibbous, will rise as month’s fullest moon on the 17th.)}

The caption photo is of two young hen turkeys that will come to live with me.

First though, my place needs an appropriate shelter. The best options for installing a large coop are building from scratch or bringing in a prefabricated unit. Building is cheaper, but prefab is the quickest way of acquiring the turkeys (and three chickens living with them). There’s a rush to get the critters, before their current owner’s recently adopted dog does.

The dog, a rescue from Korea, was living on the streets and staying alive by killing and consuming domestic chickens. The dog’s new owner, Josh, likes him enough to re-home a remaining flock. The dog aggressively pursues chickens, has killed a couple of Josh’s.

So, we’re eager to move five birds here.

My kind friend, Dave, offered to help build a coop. He was here yesterday, seeing the available space and making good suggestions.

Meanwhile, my Rhode Island Red hen escaped the coop again. Yesterday morning, after managing to get her inside I saw how she escapes. Red hopped onto the back of one of my Dwarf Goats. From the upward boost she stretched to leap the fence.

I spent all afternoon heightening that fence, completing just one section where, seemingly most easily, she’d have hopped. This morning will be revealing. If she’s in the coop, maybe I fixed the worst section. Regardless, my next day off will be more heightening and patching.

It’s a bummer to spend days off chasing and patching, but a Country Gal with animals has no choice. Must do the cutting, sawing, and hammering, instead of the reading, thinking, and writing. However, there’s a fun component, the pitting of brain against brain.

My labor is to get me ahead of a too-smart chicken.

Dear Friends: Imagine, if Red’s escapes teach her flock-mates to escape! Diana

Monday, January 10, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon” now Waxing Gibbous, will rise at its fullest on the 17th.)}

My lunch “hour” is thirty minutes long. Just enough time to drive four miles to home, handle a couple of must-do chores, and drive back to work. My chores are to let the dogs outside, hurriedly toss hay to my horses, and then bring the dogs inside.

This deep-winter time of year is bitterly cold. My aging dogs and young puppy stay inside while I’m away. Of course, dogs inside and unsupervised for long hours isn’t ideal. In my situation, it’s a reasonable choice, and mostly they sleep. The puppy minimally is destructive.

Yesterday during lunchtime while hauling hay to the horses, I spotted a chicken outside the coop and standing in the horse’s area. Rarely a chicken flies over the fence, but that happens. And “Dang!”, this was the Rhode Island Red, intolerant of being handled.

When I tried to herd she ran in all directions. I opened the coop gate to entice her in, and my goats got loose. Suddenly, I had to chase a hen and two goats.

Not enough time to work these problems.

My rational mind knew goats could be recaptured, and they were. It assumed Red would stay near her fenced-away flock, and Rooster kept calling for her. It guessed she could wander, might become lost or injured. It worried about a raptor grabbing her, and gobbling (not long ago my neighbors lost a hen to a Golden Eagle).

My rational mind had to decide: call the boss to say I’d be late, or leave things and hurry to work. I didn’t have the boss’s number, so made the decision. “Somehow stay safe, Red. I’ll return at dusk. If I find you perched and roosting, I’ll lift and return you to the flock.” My rational mind added, “Little chance then of finding her.”

I worried all afternoon and after work rushed home. No sign of Red. She wasn’t roosting in sight nor were there scattered feathers suggesting a snatcher. I searched the property with a flashlight, not finding Red.

After haying the horses, I carried chow to the goats. Inside the goat area, my chickens roost crowded-together on a bench. As usual, I counted them. Seven? I blinked and peered, counted again. Counted yet, again, and yes there were seven! With Red squeezing among them!

Relief washed through me. Leaving her running loose had been awful, and worst, were my hours of fearing her lost or hurt. Today, my rational mind again is busy. What if now, Red is a too-educated hen? Might she become an adventuress, at will leaving and returning to her flock?

If so, she’ll wind up as a garage mate to my still-thriving Old Welsummer hen.

Dear Friends: Happily all worked out well, I still have a job and seven chickens. Diana

Sunday, January 09, 2022

_{(January’s “Wolf Moon”, having waxed to First Quarter, will rise at fullest on the 17th.)}

If you didn’t notice yesterday evening’s quarter “Wolf Moon”, you missed a beaut. It’s hard to await the Moon’s fullest version. To feel the joy of seeing it begin to rise, and first-glow above a dark horizon.

As deep winter reigns, Dark January’s “Wolf Moon” compels. This season needs light!

Susie and I are fullest-moon chasers. Guided by her compass, we travel to some spot, very dark in the desert, to await a fullest moon’s earliest rising.

We don’t think about much except the natural new light and how to use our cameras and binoculars. But we feel excited about an increasing globe adding new light. While working toward capturing, we’re laughing and dancing.

Glimpsing any month’s fullest moon is joyous. Especially, while in darkness and peering toward an almost invisible horizon. That first light appearing has a powerful affect, by inspiring delight and incredible happiness.

It’s difficult to explain, but Susie and will attempt. In a new adventure of combining talents, we’ll comb through past photos and blogs to capture our nearly year’s-worth of Moon Chases. We’ll arrange our adventures, sightings, and descriptions in an order to create a narrative.

A worthy idea!

Dear Friends: We’ve done most of the work, now to review, arrange, expand. Diana