The Other Kids...

...are in Fox Point hanging out with Abby, Katy, and Will. Today Mimi and I joined the gang for a movie (Ferdinand), lunch, and other shenanigans. A two-night sleepover! Holy cow! And all is going well thanks to inherent goodness, and Ab's management skills.

Speaking of cows, however, Ferdinand seemed to benefit from the ministrations, occasionally, of a calming goat—a concept new to most of us. But, I am pleased to announce that the kids have assigned similar responsibilities to me. I don't think it's because I'm an old goat—rather because the moment I show up, things calm down. I have always valued my role as a calming influence, and it's nice to be recognized.

Who Is Who, Exactly?

Is it Benjamin or James?
Or James or Benjamin?
The aunts are wrong full half the time,
Grandparents have no clue.
And, some suspect the parents—
would fail a lineup, too.

If they are not identical, they are similar. Apparently, the only way to know whether fraternal or identical is through genetic testing, which is not a service the hospital provides.

But anyway, they are doing well, and mom and dad are too.

We Have Twins!

Welcome  Benjamin Brainard (BBN) and James Brainard (JBN).  (Brainard Wheeler {BWN} is rather proud.)

Benjamin Brainard Nies born 8:06, 6lbs 11 ounces, 20.5 inches
James Brainard Nies, born 8:07, 6 pounds  7  ounces, 19.5 inches

Miraculous, and mind-boggling. What an amazing Renee.

And, the patronym continues to march down the ages.

Too Cold...

...for...ice boating...dog walking...and pretty much everything else. Too cold for comfort. Even with Musher's Secret on his paws, Pax lifts his feet and seems unwilling to wander far from the doors leading in.

Bird feeder thronged, but being hassled by a gang of ruffian starlings. I do wish the jays would step in.

Completely nuts.

Annual Christmas Party...

 ...at the Morrison’s. 

Kids had great fun playing together.  

Pagentry...

...followed by party.  Kate was an angel and Will was a sheep. Not sure about the casting.

On The Ice

First sail of the season—just Bri and me—Tony not available. Plenty of ice on Pewaukee—a bit rough in places, but quite sailable. Breezy and cold—high in the low twenties, and dropping—numb thumb weather.

Bri likes the new boat (#351)—says it feels fast and points well. He's up front with the leaders.

I did moderately well in #10. Missed the windward mark first lap in the first race, and blamed it on faulty goggles, which made vision difficult, but then found out that the mark itself had collapsed. Did better in the second race until the mast come down half way through—busted shackle.

Shakedown seems the right word for today's sailing, but does miss the idea of fun, which today was (in spite of the fact that I can hardly walk now).

Blue mast needs a new shackle.

High and Low...

...are the hardest.  

I sing the praise of Middle C.

It's when you go down below, to G and F that things get very sticky. And, of course, the converse—at E, F, and G above high C things are even worse. There may be some deep meaning here, but all I've found so far is that you have to practice the bad stuff, even though you don't really want to.

Twenty-three point five...

...is how tilted we, as earthlings, are.  Happy Solstice, everyone.

The earth's tilt, of course, causes short days and long nights here in the northern hemi in winter. There's hardly enough time these days to walk the dog around the block before it gets dark. But we carry on.

Pretty much a flat 9 hours of daylight (out of 24) here at the latitude of Whitewater. Better in Texas, worse on Manitoulin. This can cause seasonal affective disorder. But it helps to remember that we are at the turning point, and that we are headed towards summer! As the old saying goes, "The sun never sets on a Kagawong summer."

Becca’s Holiday Program

And a fine performance it was.   

Rambling With Paxton

While Sue was assisting Jayne, Pax and I went to the forest preserve at Whitewater Lake, and to the nature reserve along the Bark River in Fort. Not sure who enjoyed it more.

Decent ice, although the temp was close to 50.

Thank you, vegetables, for growing and providing nourishment.

The perfect shape.

Foundling
Megan Levad

          —for a sixty-seven-pound nugget of Lake Superior copper found in an Iowa cornfield

Before the earliest flute
was carved from a vulture’s wing,

before we—what few we were—
bowed to the moon,

the balmy, secular night,
you were coming.

Snug in the great throat of a glacier.
Still as a wish, until its sighing end.

I like to think you waited years
for us, one shoulder greening in the damp,

the other burnished by long leaves
of wheat, before we called it wheat.

Or was it loess, the wind’s fine veil,
polished you so bright we would know you at first sight?

What have you seen in the ice and the earth?
Is hell cold, or hot?

Do you pray, too? And to what god?
Or whale, or bigger rock?

Thick Warm Socks...

...among other results of Xmas gift giving.  

Morning chilly, damp, and gray. Afternoon, cool, damp, and sunny. Not at all like winter. Pax and I even got in a late season bike ride to the prairie—and he was up for some running after all the holiday-ing.

Late yesterday, after the gathering, Pax and I took a long walk. Toward the end of it he crashed his way through a bramble patch, only to emerge in a straight-jacket of nasty mini burrs. He looked something like an ambulatory bush, and his eyes were stuck shut. It took me a few minutes to get him ambulatory and sighted again, and then a good hour with a comb, once at home, to get him bask to his old snuggly self.

Christmas Eve...

...later than planned though still a bit early.  

My Kingdom For a Horse

Ride ‘em cowgirl.  

Duet...

...or rather musical piece for saxophone, with accompaniment.  

The birds

An attempt, this morning, at a Christmas medley—with neighbor Phil on piano and me on electronic wind instrument. The result was convincing, and our debut will be......next year. (Still, it was fun.)

After that, lunch at the venerable Cafe Carp, in Fort—like stepping back into the 60s, or into a world where there is no such thing as a trump. People playing cribbage and talking poetry; and the food is good too. Evenings, Cafe Carp is a bastion of old school, singer-songwriter, folk-type music.

It felt good to be there.

Ducks In a Row

Almost forgot to post tonight.  

A little more Santa’s workshopping today and neighborhood meeting this evening.  

Mostly sunny, light wind.  

Pandemonium...

...at the bird feeders.  A decree went out (obviously not from Caesar Augustus, but from someone) that the feeders had been filled—and word spread fast. Today we had:  red bellied woodpecker, downy woodpecker, nuthatch, jay, cardinal, starling, dove, finch, junco, chickadee, lots of various sparrows, and at least half a dozen squirrels.

So far no squirrel has breached the defenses, but not for lack of trying. I'm quite sure they will figure something soon—squirrels around here are quick on the uptake. I watched them pace off distances, explore launch points, and calculate trajectories. Quite likely they will sleep on their observations tonight and have a solution tomorrow.

So far, no sign of the hawk.

Walnut grove, with lots of walnuts remaining on the ground—winter sustenance for squirrels, besides the bird feeders.

Feed The Birds

Lots of activity today at the feeders, which were recently set up, but also lots of frustration on the part of the visitors, who found the cupboard bare. Pax and I made a special trip out for sunflower seeds and a mix of fruits and nuts (no safflower or cracked corn which are cheap but which birds abhor). I expect to see quite a crowd tomorrow morning when I sit in the breakfast nook, with a cup of coffee, reading newspapers on the laptop, and looking out the windows.

Mostly sunny, breezy, and cold. Barometer high, but just beginning to drop.

Some of This...

...and some of that.  Today was a day of returns—dogs back to their rightful home and iceboats back to their proper storage facility.

Here's something worth contemplating—the Kagawong web cam. It's positioned on the Old Mill and aimed at the marina. As of this writing, the water on Mudge Bay appears to be open.

Three Dog Night

And day too.  Buddy and Pip have been visiting, and will be heading home tomorrow. Rotating through three dogs has kept us rather busy. Pax and Pip need separate times and places because Pip keeps coming at Pax for some roughhousing fun, and Pax can be a bit brusque in telling her to bugger off.

Then, this evening attendance at the League of Women Voters annual awards banquet at which friend and neighborhood association co-conspirator, James, received a democracy award.