Afternoon At Crex

I got tired of staying at home and decided to pack my camera and see what Crex had to offer at this point in spring. Trumpeter swans were all over the place, but not nesting yet.

For some unknown reason, this swan just sprawled over the water, mostly motionless, moving just often enough to remind us both is was still alive. I did see others nearby doing the same thing, looking just as weird.
 

Most of them looked like this, busy grooming themselves, but somehow not managing to get the dirt off their necks. Otherwise they were upended in the water, feeding off what they could find on the bottom of whichever lake they were on this soon after ice cleared.

I did see one sandhill crane, but through the windshield, which makes for a terrible photo since it's lightly tinted. There was one coot, two loons, one each in different lakes, and only one of which was calling. The Canada geese are there in small numbers, along with a smattering of several of other duck species, too far away to identify. I also saw two different dark furry heads pop up and dive again, in one lake possibly either a muskrat or otter, the other likely a beaver.

It's early yet, most vegetation being brown from last year, so the real camera action was sky and water reflections. Clouds were a mixed bag, being between systems at the moment, with the last one much further south carrying hail and spawning four twisters. Something is expected in another couple days, but different voices call for different results and disagree about where exactly they'll land.

On a positive note, this was a day when windows could be left down while driving slowly through, making it a shorter project to get a camera aimed, and the only bugs trying to enter the car was a single swarm of gnats. Flies and skeeters must not hatched yet. In places along the banks there are a few of last year's grasses still poking up, but mostly the winter has nearly flattened them.

Most of what got shot was scenery. On the south end of Phantom Lake one spot between the road and a strip of island had flat smooth water where the tiny strip of land made a windbreak, and instead of the water being covered by lily pads and white blossoms as it will be all summer, it mirrored the various forms of the branches with a perfect sky backdrop. I spent a lot of time there shooting, looking for the perfect shot. I still haven't decided but this one is close.

 

Later I started passing patches of pussy willows. Some were just opening, white catkins on red branches. Fully intermixed were patches of fat yellow catkins with branches starting to go yellow.Knowing they do change color through the season, I presume they are both the same kind of plant at slightly different places in their cycle.

 

 

           
 

 Just to keep it interesting there was a kind of bush, shown here in the foreground, where the leaves and stems seemed white and shiny, while whatever was or about to be blooming was also white and shiny enough that it all looked like bits of glass in the sun. In any given spot these could  be co-mingled together with pussywillows. These were growing inside the official refuge area, where anybody not staff are forbidden to enter or touch anything. That was the only place I found these where I could get a halfway decent shot, but boy, did they really stand out!  

 

Once I got south of Grantsburg, in a place called Gretham Flowage, the swans were mixed in with all kinds of other migrants. I even managed to get some video of the tin toy trumpet sound of that bunch of the swans recently disturbed by somebody getting too close. The visual part sucks, but....

They were the tiniest of dots in the distance, either white or black, though some were still close enough to catch with a good zoom. Other places along the road they gathered much closer. A passing couple had just spotted pelicans way back where my camera couldn't distinguish dots from other dots. I in my turn pointed out where I'd just seen a beaver head on the other side of the road and noted that the last couple of summers a great blue heron hung out at the same spot. They backed up to have a look on that side.

Before I left, however, I also noted where some dumping had occurred over the winter.

I'm not sure of the species, and didn't choose to get close enough to disturb them. I think from the length of the fur, it's likely either coyotes or wolves, both of which live in the greater area. The heads were missing, and ribs and spines were somewhat attached to the skins. These two were close together with a third a bit further away. You can see that something or things had lots of time to clean the bones. I think I'll call the Crex office tomorrow and see what they have to say about the dumping. It is area managed by them.

Turvey-Topsy

 OK, if you think that title is backwards, I wrote it perfectly reflecting life this week. Upside down, sideways, pick your poison. On the plus side, taxes were mailed last Saturday, so that's finally done. It's just everything else that cattywampus. 

First, there's the scrambled calendar. Steve's hip surgery is on hold until his cardiac issue is diagnosed, evaluated, fixed as needed, and rescheduled. As in RESCHEDULED! In his case, getting cardiac tests is more difficult than anything I have to schedule, so his take priority, and my stuff gets bumped first. So far the big one for me, shoulder #2, is still on track for late next month. But I just canceled a "wellness" visit because Steve gets a stress test (injection, not treadmill, with his bad  back, knees and hip) that same time and 30 miles away. I just managed to push my exam out by a few hours that same day. Plenty of time to do both then. He gets another test later that week, then waits for the cardiologist to say he's OK or he needs X first, before he can reschedule his new hip.  The monitor he has stuck on his chest will come off later this week to get mailed in, so that at least doesn't involve travel more than a few blocks to the post office.

How all that affects my scheduling will depend on how those all shake out, keeping in mind this family needs a driver. We know I won't be driving for three weeks after shoulder #2. We don't know what Steve's limitations for driving will be after his surgery. Somehow the two have to blend. Plus I promised my son a ride for a procedure he needs next month involving anesthesia, because he's been good about driving me the long distances for my shoulder appointments when I couldn't drive last time, with assurances he'll be available for the same my next time. 

It's a very good thing I have a recent bottle of White Out in the house. Its biggest use has only been for tax forms. But before siting down to work on this post, I took the calendar  and whited-out a bunch of canceled appointments for the next 8 weeks so there was room to put only the valid ones in their places. It's necessary with every one we need to make to have some clear idea of what's really there and what is now free. I think half the April squares got that treatment. There will still be more appointments to make and/or cancel. I'm sure May will need the same treatment. June?  Fingers crossed.

So, with all that chaos, of course Murphy threw another sample our way of how he screws everything up this morning when both of us woke up chillier than usual. The furnace insists it's still set at 73. I went out and got an indoor thermometer which chose to argue. It's 64 inside, and outside thinks that will be the high for the day. We both added warmer layers. With only minimal improvement,  I then huddled under my double polar fleece throw, while Steve got out his heat/vibration vest usually reserved for back pain. 

We are now waiting for a local furnace repairman to show up. If it's some failed switch or something, hooray. Considering the furnace goes back to 2001, I'm checking the budget for possibly replacing it. Meanwhile, we're happy it's this late in possible snow days for here, and glad the oven still throws enough heat that while somebody is awake to supervise we can run it, opening its door periodically to let heat in the middle of the house at least. We did find out we can't just turn it on and leave the oven door open. It shuts itself off. We could light burners, but that seems riskier. I like my fire in a box for unusual indoor usage.

OK, more later. Two trucks just showed up.  

Another Squirrel

 I've been baiting and setting out the live trap again. It's not that we've been seeing a lot of squirrel nests in the area trees this spring. But some of my spring bulbs are up and preparing to bloom, and I really hate when they get dug up and chomped after the work and expense. Last fall I lined the newest plantings with hardware cloth, held down over winter with a combination of old lumber and rocks. I did manage to remove the covering before the new shoots actually grew through it and risked deflowering when the hardware cloth was removed. It was a very near thing.

But with the protection gone, it was time for the live traps again. I loaded the trigger plate on one of them with a wide smear of peanut butter to entice a critter inside, before setting it out where most traps were effective last year. Nothing happened for a couple weeks, but even in bad weather, when I didn't want to do more than poke my head out, I could see from the front porch if it had been sprung. Finally the peanut butter disappeared, but oddly the trap hadn't sprung.  (How did they do that? Did I set it wrong?) I didn't bother to reset it, or re-bait it, or even check on it multiple times daily for several days. 

Yesterday morning the emptied garbage and recycle bins had to be hauled back from the curb to their spot a yard from the trap. Even so I didn't bother to look at the trap until that errand was over. It was sprung! No food had been in it, not even tiny traces of peanut butter, since it had rained a couple times since the previous visitor had eaten everything.

I was  getting ready to run an errand with a couple friends who needed a lift, so I put the full trap with its rambunctious squirrel inside on the back seat, taking care to put it so the solid metal door faced my future back seat passenger to prevent chances of the two occupants of the back seat coming into direct contact. I also made sure my heavy suede gloves were still there, as I make sure to wear those before handling a full trap. I don't wish to get bit by some crazed critter which is half teeth, especially now that Trump has closed down the part of the CDC which identifies varieties of rabies. It not only gave info on how to properly ship samples for testing so the diagnosis will verify rabies or not, but also gave the best treatment information available for the specific variety of rabies for proper treatment to save a life. Now you just get an error message instead of the former pages. It might not seem to matter so much when everybody vaccinates their pets, but nobody vaccinates wild squirrels. Somebody will die from it again and people will start noticing.

The dropping place for rehoming the squirrel was on the way to the riverside park we were heading to, so I picked both friends up after confirming both were OK with where it was in the car. I was willing to move the cage back into the hatch but one of them would have to close it for me twice, as my shoulder limitations are less than the power needed with the new hydraulics. Neither one objected to being close to the squirrel, though one teased me about wanting to pet the squirrel. Hard no! Then she wanted to be outside the car when I opened the trap. Another hard no. I also insisted windows remained up.

After driving to the drop, I pulled the cage out to the hood of the car where both could watch from inside. I warned them to look sharp because it should be over fast. I have to both stand by the trap's door end and stay out of the path of whatever animal it releases. You may recall it has also housed a rabbit and coon besides squirrels last year. Without exception, the split second there is room to escape, the animal is out in one long leap down into the ditch, and up the top of the  hill in two more. You won't catch it on camera. The whole process, from door to hill top and vanishing, is about two seconds, every single time. They never stick around to either bite or thank me (LOL), nor wait for me to change my mind.

Both my friends were impressed with the speed, as well as the chosen new home.  It's the same oak forest and cattail swamp as last year. As we left we had several blue heron sightings, a pair of sandhill cranes, and a large gathering of what were most likely trumpeter swans, but too distant to identify. This was a new route on back roads for both of them, going past the local apple orchard where both were making plans to hit the you-pick strawberry patch on the premises in summer. Unfortunately the park we went to had no visible wildlife, as well as a much too present cold wind, despite the early morning promises of the weather stations. All of us were home an hour earlier than anticipated, but planning another excursion as soon as we can, this time up to Crex. I'm planing to go on my own with my camera even sooner. Once taxes are done of course.

Of course I am left with the question of the day: Since an unbaited trap caught a squirrel, do I really need to sacrifice more peanut butter for the next time? Or was this one just looking for a free trip to visit its former neighbors? It has looked a bit lonely squirrel-wise around here lately. That will likely change when some snowbirding neighbors return and set out feed for them again. Almost any given day that's not too wintery, one can see them within two blocks in any direction. That's better than in the garden of course... for just a few days.

When You're Smarter Than The Tax Guy

 So... I made the appointment with the tax guy. I even got there early, enough to listen to him explain to the wannabe customer ahead of me that he couldn't help her because she needed a signed document allowing her to get the taxes done for her son who was apparently incapacitated enough that he was unable to sign anything. No suggestions of whether she needed to go to a judge or who else in order to get the authorization. Just, he couldn't do it. It took him 15 minutes to get that little bit through to her.  I wish her luck... and time.

I guess I should have been warned in advance by that, but I was concentrating on 1: being patiently polite, and 2: eavesdropping just because I could. There is no privacy there. I'm glad I'm not one needing to hide my financial questions from anybody. He was very young, at least from my viewpoint, but so far I had presumed that he actually knew something about taxes.

It turned out, when my turn came, that all he knew was how to plug numbers into their particular proprietary tax form on line. The one piece of assistance I did get, with apologies and for free, was the unadvertised fact that when you get a negative number, it becomes a zero and you're done. You don't, for example, save that up to subtract again from something else, or perform any other math function with it. Not even when the form directions ask you to take that and subtract or add it to something else, it's still just a zero. He also printed out the forms (aka 2 copies)  for filing with the state for whatever they do to return some kind of property taxes for low income renters, like for the part of our lot fees that cover the park owner's property taxes. I figure that since we owe no federal taxes this year, we might find it worth while to fill that one out. Either way, we'll know. There were no instructions included, probably because he only knows to tell the computer what numbers to work with, and not what any of them mean relative to any others. 

I bet you could train a pigeon to do that! What do you think: kernels of corn for a reward? Worms? Bugs?

Apparently my biggest problem from his viewpoint was I was asking for hard copies at the end of the process. In his world, that precluded going through their computer. I have to wonder if he's ever done any tax filing without a computer, and perhaps without knowing which number goes where and why or why not. If I were sitting across from, say, a fifty-year-old person, I bet they would have the core knowledge of what the numbers meant in addition to which slot they went on.

On the plus side, my cost was zero. For somebody who couldn't deal with paper he did manage to print out copies of the state form for renter's refund. No instructions, but at least I know those are online, and with the forms in hand I now know what form number to ask for instructions for. I do have all the tax forms like SS pay and W2s needed to deal with that. Once I knew how the IRS deals with negative numbers, I whipped through the 1040s in a breeze this morning. I'll wait for the state forms till tomorrow, since my math brain always works better in the morning. 

While I was in the store finding out as little as I did, I took advantage of being there to pick up some nice large envelopes to mail out tax forms in, probably for the next 5 years. I didn't actually bother to count, so long as the pack held at least two. There were some groceries on my list as well. At least there I know exactly what I'm getting... or not... because they ALWAYS put a favorite of mine up on the top shelf of the freezer case where it's impossible to reach. No wonder we mostly call in our orders to go pick up! At least I still have one General Tso's Chicken package in the home freezer! I'm thinking supper tonight.

Afanwi: Gift From God

 Steve's insurance includes a home visit from a nurse. We didn't get around to asking exactly what level but it didn't seem relevant. She came Saturday morning, convenient for us. We both were impressed by her competence, her sense of humor, her warmth, and her willingness to answer questions. And then there was her name: Afanwi. 

I'd never heard it before, so I asked her if there was a special meaning to the name other than it being a beautiful word.  (Even my name means more than the name of a flower. Mine has other meanings, not that I ever knew that growing up, but had to learn them from baby names books when I was pregnant. Google added more. My parents picked it looking for something different, which it was back then.) There is a meaning to her name as well. It means "Gift from God".  Imagine how much parents must love their new baby to give her such a wonderful name!

I wrote it down so I could remember it and look it up later. I have to since I'm terrible with recalling names until I get to know people well.  I'll have to refer to this post to keep it in my mind. At my age, names are some of the first things to slip out of my ears or nose or however they escape my brain. (Who can tell? I never see them go.) After making sure I had the spelling right, I googled it after her visit ended, wondering where on the planet it was in use. It confirmed the spelling and the meaning, adding it is a Bafut name, coming from the northwest area of Cameroon, and further, commonly a masculine name or a surname.  I hadn't known an American name with that meaning, though that should be chalked off to personal ignorance, since further research shows I have a bunch of relatives whose names mean that, including my own father, an aunt, and several friends!  Hmmmmmm.....

 I wonder if the typical masculine use of Afanwi has any connection to any patriarchal cultural bias, where males are more valued / important then females and named accordingly. Does giving a masculine name to a girl show more value of that particular child? I might consider asking if we see her again next year.  Google doesn't seem to answer that gender bias one, however I try to phrase the question.

I will say to all those out there who think this country ought to be closed to immigrants, she is the exact example of why we benefit from more of them.  Of course I'm a bit prejudiced on that  question, since my heritage comes from immigrants from 8 known different countries to this continent. Mitochondrial DNA shows a much richer background then even that. I appreciate my existence, and embrace the many many humans who made it what it is. Far enough back, we probably share an ancestor. Possibly with those of you reading this as well, and yes, Blogspot puts you readers all over the globe, and thank you for stopping by! You are each a gift as well, whatever and who ever sent you over here.

Two Hearts, New Hook-ups

No, not that kind of hookups. I'm talking cardiac monitors and connections to some machines in offices somewhere in the world which keeps track of how they are doing.

I've had my hook-up since my pacemaker went in years ago. It gets regular check-ins via either a cell or a wi-fi signal on a regular basis - they never told me which - plus I can also send a signal outside of regular times if something seems to be going wrong. So far the only things going wrong are in the programming itself. Twice now I've been in the cardiologist's office getting a light reprogramming of its works. Once it was sending out a test pattern which I actually felt as an extra semi-beat and worried that the ablation surgery had failed to last over the long term.  That got reprogrammed last year. No flutters since.

This year my specific kind of pacemakers are all going through a reprogramming by their manufacturer in order to extend the life of their batteries. Both times I simply sat in a room with the tech who did things across the room with her computer which made the changes without ever touching me or my pacemaker. It was followed up with them mailing me a new monitoring box that sits next to where I sleep and checks in automatically at night on some schedule. Or, I still have the option of hitting a button and forcing it to send a recording right now of whatever is going on if something seems weird. It looks almost identical to the old box but a tiny bit bigger, and is needed to work with the new programming. 

It isn't costing me a cent so I don't care, but I did make sure, since with my shoulders I can't spend my nights in my bed but half sitting in a recliner, that the monitor is plugged in next to my chair. It does come with one new instruction however. It can't be within a foot of any electronics. Of course that end table by my recliner holds both my laptop and cell and their chargers, with enough other stuff in, on, and around that finding a place far enough away and have it still be plugged into the same power strip without being a tripping hazard was a challenge. It's a very electronics dense part of the house between the normal electronics Steve and I both have, and the extra stuff Steve needs like his lift chair, his back heater/massager, and his fall alert necklace charger. He has other medical stuff he charges across the room. Our chairs are close enough together that we can hold hands when we want and we share the reading lamp between the chairs. We have 3 power strips for just two wall outlets. I did get it working in the new location eventually. The company monitoring them called me back to confirm it when the new one came on line... after my 3rd try.

My change was just a little surprise. Steve was the big surprise. He'd gone in to our primary doc for his needed are-you-well-enough-to-have-hip-replacement-surgery physical. He was extra wobbly just stepping off the scale that day, and they fetched a wheelchair for him so he wouldn't fall. His checkup included an EKG, and his pattern was irregular. Our doc said it looked a lot like A-fib. You know, like my diagnosis. So no, his hip replacement surgery will likely be postponed until the cardiac issues are fully diagnosed and dealt with. He can't get in to see a cardiologist for two weeks, the perfect amount of time for him to wear a cardiac monitor so there will be a continuous record of what's going on with him through the day he walks into that office.

While he waits, he's been put on Eliquis - a hideously expensive clot preventer. There is a coupon making the first month free, but his Rx insurance doesn't cover it, and it costs a big chunk of his income, thought not as bad as when they put me on it post Watchman implant until it grew closed. If he does need to deal with that, we're going to push for his getting a Watchman ASAP to prevent strokes instead. Surgery, at least, is covered with a modest co-pay.

Meanwhile he is now wearing a cardiac monitor, stuck to his skin for two weeks. First you have to shave - male or female, most of us have some chest hairs - then abrade the skin to remove loose or nearly loose  skin flakes, then wipe with alcohol to prevent infection from all those little scrapes you just inflicted on your chest. Once you stop hurting from the alcohol and have air dried your skin, the adhesive clear plastic patch with all kinds of embedded electrodes visible and leading to a central button that's pushed onto your newly raw skin by rubbing the entire unit for 4 minutes, to stay for two weeks. So that shower you started with better have been a good one. And you better not be self conscious when your shirt looks like you just grew an enormous extra nipple! Of course if you do get embarrassed by that kind of attention, it had better not stop you from hitting that button when needed even if it does look like you've discovered a weird new kinky way to have some fun. If you are feeling light headed or perhaps suddenly out of energy, that tap will get you an immediate call/report after being examined by a professional who can respond as quickly as needed. 

He's lucky his is so thin and lightweight. I had to wear two different ones at different times back in Arizona, and we found out life can be complicated and interesting. Mine were clunky, and one of the monitors wouldn't communicate with the office from inside either our house or the rec center. I had to stand in a particular spot or be outside. Concrete wall construction as the standard down there was not helpful.Three surgeries later and two medication changes and I'm fine... except for all those other things of course.

I Surrender!

 I finally broke down and made an appointment to get my taxes done by a pro. In this case, it's a company which works out of the local Walmart with an introductory customer fee of $49. My goal is for them to show me exactly how to interpret governmental gobbledygook so I can (hopefully) do it again next year. I want a hard copy of everything to bring home, not least of which for signing before mailing. I can buy some large envelopes while I'm there.

I expect most of you have somebody else do your taxes, or have very simple basic returns, once  basic income and deductions are entered, zip - zip and it's done, either in the mail or sent online.

Those who know me well enough should be shocked that I have resorted to this. After all, I did my own self employment (aka independent contractor or IC) taxes for almost 30 years. It involved the usual forms plus schedules C, SE, and B, plus keeping all receipts for each year, and I do mean all. Each year's expanding file folder was about 4" thick. I claimed mileage deductions, and easily averaged 80 thousand in any given year. I put over 2 million miles, all told, on a succession of cars before I retired. Some of that was personal miles, so those had to be sorted out. Then there was gas, uniforms, car repairs and maintenance, and even the fast food bills proving I actually was in such-and such a town at time x and way the hell over elsewhere gassing up again. (I couldn't deduct the actual food.) I kept all that in case of an audit. Let them have the headache if they wanted to quibble. (They never did.) I learned very early to just go by mileage deductions, which eventually wound up at $.51 per work mile. But I did it all every year because I knew what I was doing due to company training on IC taxes, and the only change each year was how much per mile times number of business miles for that part of it. It was just a matter of having the paperwork, a log for each day, and sitting down for a couple of hours. 

It was predictable. The instructions made sense.

One might think with retirement that all would be much easier. I have to fill out forms that don't apply to my life these days, I have to read instructions that don't make sense, like if number X is larger than Y, subtract X from Y.  OK, that gives me a negative number, which now I'm now supposed to do several other things with just to find out how much of our Social Security is taxable. Math gets a bit weird when working with negative numbers. And why not subtract the smaller number from the larger instead of the reverse? Did somebody hit their head on the corner of the table when they tried to stand on it upside down when writing the instructions? 

Note that even last year I did our taxes with X dollars of our SS not taxable. It was a finite cutoff for how much was tax-free, suitable for everybody, and any other income and deductions were calculated in later. It even included a report on capitol gains which I'd never done nor needed to, but the instructions made sense and one wound up with a set amount which you either made more or less than, period, and that determined how much tax needed to be paid.

Then there will be state taxes as well as my part time job with some withholding, and interest payments. Somewhere in there one also has to deal with property tax paid out of one's rent. That's new to me since one has to pay it over a full year and this is our first full year in paying rent. In our case the lot our home sits on is rented and we get a form mailed to us about how much of our rent is taxes. A tax preparer will be figuring that part out this year for us. And they damn well better be explaining all this new crap to me so I can take notes and do our own taxes again next year!

Steve and I have both gotten fed up with my fighting with the forms this year. They can't just  say $XXX is tax free, but all the rest of your income is taxable. Most years they've done that and only the numbers change. Now it's like the circus performer spinning a dozen plates on top of sticks and keeping them all in the air at the same time, except somebody threw in bowls instead of plates here and there.

Frankly, I'm convinced they (DOGE???) have deliberately made it as complicated as possible just so they can force us all to hire a tax preparer. If it's this bad next year, I'm going to hunt out one of those people who helps out Seniors for free. You just have to find out who and where and get in line early. 

For now, there's a book that's calling me. I'm ready for a distraction.