a March Sunday

Beautiful day! I should clear the garden! Go for a long walk! Maybe bike ride?

 

I do nothing like that.

First of all, another skunk meandered to the barn this morning. We decided to take him to an agreed upon habitat. That required truck transport. Because who wants to put a skunk in a car! 

Ed's new old truck wouldn't start. The hood to my car would not open so we could not easily jump start the truck. By the time all those messes were cleaned up, it was 11. Breakfast was, thus, very late.

 

 

And then? Tax filing time. I have to do this now. I'm not here in early April. I absolutely have to do this now!

And so this year, you get to listen to me complaining about tax filing earlier. (Last year, I believe I complained around April 12th.) And let's be clear: I'm not complaining about paying taxes, I'm complaining about the complexity of the enterprise!

As a retired former state employee, my tax situation should be rather straightforward. We're not dealing with large numbers here by any means. However, I take all kinds of small actions to boost my savings and they trigger tax consequences, so reporting all this stuff is one big headache. 

Most people would either hand it over to an accountant or use one of the software programs online, but Ed has convinced me over the years that you learn a lot by doing this stuff yourself and so this is what I do: fill out all those work sheets and schedules and do all my computations, tearing out my hair along the way.

The sweet guy is there to help, and I do call on him to give me advice, even though I'm the lawyer and once-econometrics major, so tax computations should be for me as easy as, say, fixing a bike would be for him. But it's not and I do some hand wringing and plenty of groaning along the way.

When the groans become too loud, he says -- listen, dont worry about making mistakes! They're depleted over at the IRS. No way will they catch up with you! 

No! -- I tell him. They got rid of those who would have gone after rich people. It's cheaper and more rewarding to go after the likes of me, because I wont fight back and my mistakes will be easy to detect!

After another louder than necessary groan he says -- it's actually a good brain exercise.

True, and an even better exercise in patience.

I finish the fed forms. I still have Wisconsin. Saved for next weekend. Groan, in anticipation of it!

 

Gorgeous, we really should go for a walk.

And we do. In the early evening, into the setting sun.

It is a total release. Of tension over the week's havoc and destruction. A week of embarrassment and shame felt after watching one once-supporter-of-democratic-regimes (Republican) after another tumble and crawl out to the dark side. Of heartfelt sorrow for the losses sustained by those brazenly kicked out of work for... doing their jobs expertly. Too expertly. Over so much more... 

I did not mention two things yesterday (because I got home so late...): first of all, if you are a subscriber to the Wall Street Journal, then you may have come across the article describing the horrible scrambling that has to take place because of the governmental chaos (tarriff and otherwise) in the company where Ed continues to do design work. Ed is interviewed  and I think the reporter did a fine job showing how much is lost when these smaller companies have to shift their production and marketing to places that can offer greater stability. (The article is titled "A Manufacturer Tried to Get Ahead of Trump's Tariffs. It Still Got Whipsawed." but I cant gift it to you because I am not a WSJ subscriber.)

The second memorable for me detail is that we heard yesterday the first calls of the returning sandhill cranes. And sure enough, on our drive to the local county park, we saw some today, co-mingling at the moment with the Canadian geese.

 

 

It's Sunday. Family dinner? No, not today. I was supposed to do supper for just three: my daughter, Ed and myself. Don't ask why.  It's one of those complicated situations of a visiting grandparent and time spent en famille and, too, it's Oscar night and Ed hates the Oscars, so my daughter was to keep me company. And then she woke up with a bug.

So I watch alone. I mean, Ed is technically here, but hiding upstairs. Nonetheless, it is, for me, a release to have this award show on: to take in goofy thank you speeches made by those whose business it is to act out our best and worst fantasies. How many times have I told a scared child who is watching a tense show or listening to a frightening story -- it's total fiction! Someone's imagination, on the screen (or on paper)! Tonight I am lost in those stories and performances and it feels oh so fine to think about nothing more than the jokes offered, the music performed, the dress or suit worn on this one occasion of total bland entertainment.

with so much love...

March madness

I've said it before: I am not a fan of spectator sports of any kind. Yes, the Olympics -- for the winter sports, because I like watching people ski and skate. But the competitive angle only makes me nervous. And team sport? Really, if I never had to watch another game of any kind I'd be just fine. (I am much relieved that neither Snowdrop nor Sparrow or Primrose appear to be headed in the direction of competitive sports. I can't tell with 3 year old Juniper and I am a little worried that Sandpiper, if give the chance, would throw himself mightily into any athletic competition, but so far, I've not had to be a "soccer (or any sport) grandma." Still, when everyone around you gets into a high pitched frenzy about big time events such as the World Series or the Super Bowl, I'm aware of the tribal banding that takes place and I know most people around me are tracking, and betting on, and watching games that are taking place.

I am aware, for example, that this month often sports (ha ha) the moniker March Madness, because basketball championships (the NCAA Championships, and yes, I had to look that up!) will crown the tournament's victor ... well, in April, but we still call it March Madness.

The thing is, I feel the label is fitting for this March of 2025. We are in a mad tailspin of ... well, I don't know what. Chaos? Destruction? And it is mad.

Nonetheless, it is up to us all to survive this insanity so that eventually we can rebuild. And one way to survive it is to take a stand, yes of course, but, too, to keep on truckin'. With a constant reminder -- this meanness and tyranny is not the will of any majority. This is not who we are. 

Now, together, let's remind ourselves of our better natures. and of the finer things in life.

And speaking of nature, here we are, first day of March and the temps swung downward! Way below freezing, all day long.

(nonetheless, the two robins came out to celebrate the eventual coming of spring)

 

 

But it is cold. And so I am greatly surprised when very early in the morning, Ed asks -- want to go to the winter farmers market? 

Madison holds a weekly market at the old Garvers Feed Mill every winter Saturday morning, but we never go. Why? Because it's all about root vegetables and baked goods and meats and cheeses, with a few hoop veggies thrown in. We already get our bi-weekly supply of hoop veggies and carrots from our CSA farmers. We dont need more baked goods. We dont eat meats. Why go?

Well, because it's fun. And it's not often that Ed is inclined in the direction of an early morning market outing.'s

The Garver's Feed Mill was once a factory (indeed, the largest factory in Wisconsin), engaged in the production of sugar. In the early 1920s it switched to storing, selling and distributing animal feed. But these days, it looks like what you see above, or better yet, in the photo here .

At the market, we do pick up a few things. Blueberry walnut bread. Cheese curds. Salad greens. Happy moments, milling once again with family farmers, cheesemakers, bakers.

And of course, we are on the side of town that has Madison Sourdough. On our way home, we stop there for our week's supply of croissants.

I have one for breakfast. Which is very late!

In the afternoon, I read. 

(on the couch, next to a sunning cat)

 

Do I have a suggested reading for you for today, this first day of March? I do. Much is being thrown at us right now about the Ukraine and Russia. One sentence summaries of a war that is aggressive, nonsensical and horribly destructive. I suppose being raised in postwar Poland, I'm not unbiased (against the then Soviet Union). However, this I also have -- a life long reading of "their side" of the story, initially because it was forced upon us, and then because Poland's fate remained intertwined with Russia's political ambitions. I tend to dismiss one sentence summaries and I'm always on the lookout for something that provides background and a more thoughtful explanation. I found it today in the New Yorker, in this article. It's very long, in the way that the New Yorker articles often are, but if you want to try to understand why Putin is so hell bent on destroying the Ukraine and why he has the support of so many Russians, you'll give it a read. And of course, you'll understand perhaps why our own two villains in the Oval Office haven't a clue about what is really at stake here.

 

Evening: unusual tonight because it is the night of Snowdrop's first performance as Hero in Shakespeare's Much Ado about Nothing. Hero (aka Snowdrop) is Count Claudio's love interest. A victim of nasty gossip, she almost loses the love of her life. She faints in dismay when he disparages her, but the truth prevails in the end and the two (along with bickering but in love cousin and her equally bickering but also in love bachelor) marry and dance toward a satisfying finale.

(you cant take photos during the performance of course, but this is the final dance and so I think I'm ok!)

 

 

Snowdrop is delightful. 

Her love of Shakespeare is delightful. Her engagement with play writing and her social contacts with the drama kids are delightful. I have to think it's a phase (because it was for my daughters as well), but it surely is a smile-inducing one for us all.

The Young Shakespeare Players put on the full play, all four hours of it, and Sparrow lasted all the way til the very late ending, so I think he deserves to be included in a photo!

 

 

Such a wonderful beginning to the month that will eventually bring us full blown spring!

with love...