Through a crack in the past
Feb. 3rd, 2016 07:13 pmCurrently at Havelock: 8.4! High today: 8.7! It got up to 15.5 at Pearson today! At 4 this morning in Bancroft it was 31 degrees warmer than the same time on this date last year! According to EC's records for Bancroft (although there's a bit of data missing), January 2016 was actually only 4.7 degrees warmer on average than January 2015. But then, it didn't get really persistently grindingly cold until February--lows below -20 every day from February 10 to March 3. Probably wasn't until February that I was spending most days marching around the woods looking for medium-sized dead-but-not-(too-)rotten trees, dragging them back to the cottage, and cutting them up for firewood. (This year I've had the neighbourhood Bitter Old Guy cutting up arguably dead trees arguably in my backyard definitely with a chainsaw, 'cause karma's a bitch, eh. Or something.) I guess I spent most of January 2015 sitting around being a crazy person, although now and then I remember that I must have spent a fair bit of it reading Heidegger, since I was somehow directing a directed reading course.
The thing it seems like I did in January 2016 is read three books by Margaret Laurence--the three novels after The Stone Angel, which I read in highschool and hated with what I have for years been afraid was a largely contrived violent passion, although now that I've re-read most of it, I'm inclined to go a little easier on myself--having, more or less in December, read the book of letters between her and Al Purdy. Of all of which more sometime, maybe, depending on how giving up propositions for Lent goes.
I have also, in 2016, installed several doorknobs and a deadbolt ... and made a number of soups, most of which have included stuff from the basement garden, including--to update the last report on the basement garden--beet greens, since it turns out the beets are too small to do anything with, but they're still producing nice greens. So, maybe you can't grow beets in a pot, but you wouldn't believe the carrots you can grown in a pot. How about that. Today I made one of my chard things, and now I've got garlic growing in the living room.
B. and I have also been catching up on Peter Capaldi Doctor Who, which has left me fairly convinced that the 2014 Christmas special was the doctor's way of telling me I have a dream crab eating my brain.
The moment you see what's happening in "Heaven Sent" is one of the handful of best things I've seen on a TV show. Eventually Sisyphus wins, because eventually the boulder grinds the mountain to dust.
One thing it strikes me I really like about Doctor Who, among all there is to really like and really not like about it: historical knowledge, knowledge about the backstory, is essentially impossible, because everything can change at any time. (Or in a very, very long time.)
The thing it seems like I did in January 2016 is read three books by Margaret Laurence--the three novels after The Stone Angel, which I read in highschool and hated with what I have for years been afraid was a largely contrived violent passion, although now that I've re-read most of it, I'm inclined to go a little easier on myself--having, more or less in December, read the book of letters between her and Al Purdy. Of all of which more sometime, maybe, depending on how giving up propositions for Lent goes.
I have also, in 2016, installed several doorknobs and a deadbolt ... and made a number of soups, most of which have included stuff from the basement garden, including--to update the last report on the basement garden--beet greens, since it turns out the beets are too small to do anything with, but they're still producing nice greens. So, maybe you can't grow beets in a pot, but you wouldn't believe the carrots you can grown in a pot. How about that. Today I made one of my chard things, and now I've got garlic growing in the living room.
B. and I have also been catching up on Peter Capaldi Doctor Who, which has left me fairly convinced that the 2014 Christmas special was the doctor's way of telling me I have a dream crab eating my brain.
The moment you see what's happening in "Heaven Sent" is one of the handful of best things I've seen on a TV show. Eventually Sisyphus wins, because eventually the boulder grinds the mountain to dust.
One thing it strikes me I really like about Doctor Who, among all there is to really like and really not like about it: historical knowledge, knowledge about the backstory, is essentially impossible, because everything can change at any time. (Or in a very, very long time.)