First Signs Of Spring... Here

Spring has been indecisive this year. We get warm weather, then snow, then melt, then rain and snow, then melt, then snow..... 

It's confusing, and not just for people. Plants can't decide whether to stay submerged, or start to poke out. Squirrels are supposed to be relying on spring buds and blossoms as well as their remaining stores from fall, and instead are returning to digging up last years bulbs which should have stopped being bulbs by now, and instead have stopped being in the ground at all. New holes are appearing where protective cover has had to be removed because earlier blooming plants already need to be up. Last week a daffodil got dug up and promptly dropped because it took until it was out of the ground for the offending squirrel to realize it wasn't food they like. Unfortunately, since then it located several more of the summer blooming lilies it was feasting on last fall which it managed to miss back then. 

It didn't miss them this week. But now I miss them, especially after how expensive they were. Luckily I did pop into a big box store's garden department and locate some replacement bulbs at a much lower price for many of the same varieties. I plan to start them indoors next month so they are established plants at the beginning of summer, when I can see what if anything actually survived the squirrels, and plant the leafed out new ones in (some of) the holes. I may just go around to other stores to look for other varieties to safely pre-sprout indoors. There is that gift card from Christmas for a fancy garden center.....

The snow from two days ago has finished melting. Green tips are emerging. Some are obviously iris and others daylily leaves, but tiny ones hold the promise of scilla and crocus. I gave the garden beds a peek when I took some garbage out this morning.

The first thing I spotted was a bit of blue. Scillas! Still folded into buds, blooms should open in the next day or two. A few steps further to another bed...

...and the first fully open bloom showed a yellow crocus, close to the path where people walk between building to get to the new postal boxes in the community center/ storm shelter. It got finished last fall, so we no longer have to choose between a bunch of stairs or a 3 mile drive to a storm shelter without stairs when we need one. This one is two hundred feet away, tops

After clearing old dead leaves away which were covering last year's rhubarb bed, patches of green and orange-red emerged. I predict we will have some good picking this year despite offering some family members the opportunity to dig out some of their own plants. Last year we moved in after they had become unmanageable, bolted and gone to seen in a patch of tall seed clumps on hollow wood stalks, far from edible for the rest of the summer. There are plenty left now, for those interested.... Just get in line.

So How Do Penguins Pay Tarriffs?

The Idiot in Chief just released his tariff schedule for the rest of the world. I say "Idiot" not just from ire, or political disagreement that prompts insults. Sure, those are part of it. But I say it because he just so plainly proved it.

There were a lot of small "countries" who were charged 10% tariffs on whatever they might try to export to us. Of course there was just this tiny, silly, little hitch in his tariff giddyup: many of those named simply don't have populations. Not of humans anyway. They are mostly small southern hemisphere islands. Some are volcanoes with glaciers, or still active volcanoes. Some look like sandy atolls from aerial views. There might be patches of green. Or not.

Some actually are inhabited. With penguins. Maybe a few seals too, or at least during breeding season. I can't say how year-round those populations are in residence, mostly because I've never heard of these places before. Woefully poor attention span in school geography class, I expect. Yeah, that's it. Poor attention. Mea culpa.

I fully anticipate that you, like me, have difficulty imagining penguins and seals finding anything to export off their islands, much less have heard of us or even "have a concept of" exporting something here. No doubt those tariffs would stop them right in their... uh, flippers? webbed claws? long before they'd dream of cheating our economy by not paying tariffs, eh?

Some names look suspiciously like something out of the renowned "Onion". Or maybe somebody handed the Idiot In Chief a list on April 1st because it was his day. Not that he'd ever check them out personally, of course. There's a pair  of islands well off Australia, for example, named Heard and McDonalds. I gleefully imagine  he just churned those in his brain until it seemed reasonable that indeed, yes he had "Heard of McDonalds" and they sounded like they could bring in a whole lot of money from their imports. (Of what? Penguin Burgers?) I also strongly doubt our Idiot, like many stupid people, would admit to unfamiliarity with them, and as a result simply added them to his list. I mean, who would dare mock him this way?

Now the question is begged as to whether his staff is protecting him from awareness of how stupid his tariff list is, and what a laughingstock he is for yet another reason added to all the other reasons, both domestically and internationally. No, he'll just revel in his assumed brilliance and go on to the next way to destroy what's great in this country - or was.

But if he finds out, I'd keep my ears tuned for some staff firings in the West Wing. Maybe a run on ketchup bottles too once he throws his remaining supply on the walls. As he does.

Congratulations Senator Cory Booker!

For a record breaking 25 hours and 4 minutes, Senator Booker filibustered the US Senate with a speech designed to "cause good trouble". He not only beat the previous filibuster length record, by Strom Thurmond,  a racist determined to stop civil rights in this country, he did so under much more grueling conditions. He was not allowed a bathroom break, unlike Thurmond. He was not allowed to sit down, again unlike Thurmond, and while he was allowed to take questions so he could rest his voice for a few minutes, he was still required to stay where he was.

For those of you hiding under a cabbage leaf, or something else keeping you from noticing what's happening in this country, Booker took this action to help stop the destruction, by our nominal President and his unelected pet attack dog Musk, of everything good about this country, starting with our constitution and branching out into healthcare, Alzheimer's research, veteran's jobs, healthcare, social security, Medicaid, our ability to fight measles, or TB, or even to educate our children, and totally destroy the rule of law. I could go on as the list is seemingly endless, but Booker's 25 hours plus did a pretty good job of covering it. Unlike previous filibusters, Booker didn't do silly things like read from a huge phone book (do we still even have those?) just to continue making noise. He made his time count!

As an American, I am proud of Senator Booker. I wish others in Congress had the courage do do something similar. I hope more have the courage to make their votes count toward saving our Democracy.

And I hope a lot more of us have the ounce of courage it takes to join the many demonstrations scheduled for this Saturday all around the country, making our voices heard loud and long, signs held high announcing our beliefs, our fears of what tRump/Musk are doing to this country, antagonizing our allies, kowtowing to Putin's wishes, isolating us from the world. We don't have to stand for 25+ hours. We can let our signs talk for us so our voices hold out. We can bring chairs and sit, bring food and beverages to drink, blankets and heavy coats to keep us warm. We can take bathroom breaks. We can chat with friends we carpooled with, or meet new ones.

Most of all we can show up and be counted!

And once we're back home we can call our congress people and let them know what we think as well, even if they're too chicken to come to a town hall, explain their actions, or answer our questions. Let them know we see them!!!

And keep calling.

Murphy Is Alive And Well After Hibernation

 You all remember Murphy, don't you? He's that infamous lawmaker, decreeing whatever can go wrong, will, and in the worst ways possible.  I met him yesterday. I would have written about him then, but, well, I was kinda busy and in pain.

The plan had been to go to work, just in the afternoon instead of early morning. After a rainy/snowy weekend, I figured I needed a bit of a thaw to be able to open iced car doors so I could get scrapers out to clear off windows, and if necessary, splash window antifreeze on stubborn ice rather than antagonize my shoulders by scraping them. Everything I needed to do that was inside the car I needed to be able to open. Because of course. Late morning I looked out and saw snow had slid down the hood and parts of the windows. It was time.

It started with sweeping off the porch steps to avoid falls, especially if Steve had to use them. Not that he was planning on coming out for anything. The sidewalk and much of the parking pad had cleared from morning sun, while the grass still had enough fresh snow remaining for clear mouse tracks to lead the way to the garbage cans when I took bags of trash out that had stacked up over the weekend.

Then I approached the car, keys in hand, to unlock the doors. No ice left!  The windshield snowpack released the wiper blades easily, so I let them stand up while I shoved snow away by hand. More needed to be done, but I wanted to go once around the car before returning with the broom to clear the top, using the best combination of hand and tools to do the job comfortably.

There was still a large deposit of snow on the rear hatch door window, it being the north side of the car, with that wiper blade holding it securely in place. After lifting that and clearing loose ice from it and pushing snow down, I stepped over to continue my  preliminary circle and suddenly found myself on the ground, painfully so, landing mostly on my left hip. I considered myself very lucky I hadn't hit my head on the way down, falling so fast with no time to react. 

It seems there was a single small piece of very slick, wet ice behind the car, formed by drips, disguised under water running off toward the street and a bit of freshly knocked off snow. I tried to roll off it but my hip disabused me of any desirability in pursuing that particular activity. OK, time to call Steve...

I immediately discovered I hadn't bothered to put my phone in my pocket. I was only going to be outside for a few minutes, right?

It was just the day before when Steve and I were laughing at how we grew up without the neurotic fear of going anywhere without that phone. Phones stayed in the house, attached to walls. How the world had changed! We take them into the store so we can talk to each other and/or find each other to discuss shopping from different locations. They are in the car with us in case we needed something, or somebody wanted to contact us, or even to announce to the store we had arrived and could they please bring out our groceries? Yet, because I was only going to be out a few minutes, here I'd left mine in the house. Where Steve was. Where help was, if I could just get his attention so he could make a phone call for me.  IF I could just get his attention... by calling him... on the phone I didn't have... and could have bypassed him with entirely by making my own call from my spot on the ground.

Thanks Murphy!

OK, so you're wondering why I just didn't get up off the ground? Even though the hip hurt - still hurts - nothing seemed broken. Just slide off the ice and get up? Seems simple enough, except, like Steve, these days when either of us goes down, we pretty much have to stay down. First hurdle is our knees. All four have been replaced, meaning we no longer have kneecaps, and kneeling is exquisitely painful, even on soft cushy surfaces or in gel kneepads. I bought a pair of those a couple years back. They are a great help to those who don't need them. Kneeling is to be avoided whenever possible. Age has robbed us of muscle mass. Steve's back barely allows him to move at all, and my shoulders, after years of repeated rotator cuff injuries followed by arthritis, don't do much of anything useful including lifting a cup of water up inside the microwave over the stove. I can manage but not happily, and always with at least some winces. It's maybe a pound and a half to lift, cup plus water, no problem as long as it's under shoulder level. So where to people build in their microwaves? Riiiiiight.

My first option was to check who along the street is out and about. It's a senior community here but anybody would have a phone, either with them or back in their house. It was just that time of day - and year - where the ones who weren't snowbirds were out somewhere, or maybe inside with the TV on or even napping. At any rate, nobody was out walking or even shaking a rug off their porch. Scratch that for help.

I still had some option for movement. I was sitting on wet ice, so the first thing was to sit elsewhere. I learned to butt-walk as a kid and could still do that - probably a good indication that the hip I landed on was not broken, only bruised. As it got colder from still frozen ground, it was harder to tell its actual condition, but butt-walking was possible.  15 feet away was the little porch. I'd shoot for that. Maybe I could get myself up a step or two so I could manage to stand from there. Ten minutes later, including a few pauses and after figuring out how to turn myself around so I could sit on the steps, I discovered I'd put myself down in a hole. My shoulders wouldn't lift myself up and out by themselves, and the pavement was covered in formerly invisible sand, just enough to forbid any traction from my supposedly high-traction shoes. I already had given up on being able again to wear the new knit slacks I had on, thinking them likely full of snags and holes, though much later close inspection impressed me with their sturdiness. Final decision awaits laundry results.

Time for plans B, C, and D.

There was a bed of rocks next to the porch. With metal siding, maybe I could make enough noise that Steve could hear... if he was in this end of the house and the TV volume was down. I started hitting the siding, first in single loud taps, then in threes, then in S-O-S. He's a former military guy after all, right? Of course there's usually some kind of outside noise around, somebody roofing or building a shed or making a repair or who knows what all. We're used to it. We pretty much ignore it, at least as far as going to look out the window to see what's happening. No results to my tapping. Steve might even have gone to take a nap and be in the wrong part of the house.

Plan C was to take my keys and use them to make the car horn beep. You hit the lock, then hit it a second time and it beeps to let you know you did... or where your car is in the parking lot or whatever. I found if I hit it 4 times in a row, the last three beeped. I did that for a while. Nobody noticed. Or nobody around here knows that three somethings is a distress signal. Lost and need to be seen from the air? Lay out three visible equal things spaced side by side - driftwood for example along a shore. Big sticks or bright clothing in an open field.  It's not natural so it stands out. I guess don't count on deaf neighbors to hear car horns though.

Plan D was wait for SOMEBODY to come by. Eventually they would, either driving, or walking on their way to get their mail. The only question was when? Mail probably wasn't due for another hour. I'd already been down half an hour.

By now my butt was really cold. The rest of me had sun, but it soon would be blocked by the house. 

I finally heard an approaching engine. I could stick my arms out past the stair railing and wave them to draw attention. As it turned out, it was the FedEx driver, and he was delivering a box to our house a day early! Take that, Murphy!!!! He called 911 for this "elderly lady", and within 5 minutes there were two squad cars and an ambulance here. Of course everybody waited for the paramedics to lift me up to a stand, and only after a consult with me to understand why I couldn't get up and whether lifting me might, say, further injure a broken hip. Once they heard I'd butt-walked my way over from the car, broken hip concerns vanished, though we all realized things might change once I was standing, putting weight on it. Leaving me on the ground rather than yanking my shoulders was also common sense as well as a kindness, and the paramedics wound a sheet around me under the shoulders to put the strain on the torso instead. After sitting so long and being so cold, my first steps were a bit wobbly, but they supported me to the car to sit down while lots of questions were asked and vitals taken. Yep, my blood pressure was way up after all that, but eventually they let me go.

The cops left, after one of them taking the broom I had outside, pushing the remaining snow off my car, and spreading the salt, which I'd stupidly left up on the porch, over the ice patch hidden behind the car. Every person who approached had wanted to step right there, and I had to keep warning them. A dog-walking neighbor stopped by to check things out, and the paramedics prepared to leave, after having me sign that I declined a ride to the hospital. I told them thanks, but they'd given me something much better than a ride.

They'd given me a lift!

Once back in the house, it turned out Steve had been close to where I'd been stuck. He hadn't heard any of the noise I'd made, and hadn't worried that I hadn't come back in because he'd thought I was heading straight to my job rather than just clearing the car of snow/ice and coming back in. When the ambulance pulled up in front of the window next to him, he just figured some neighbor needed something. It happens around here. The squad cars were out of his line of sight, and no sirens were used, so logically, no real emergency, whoever it was.

I'll be making sure in the future to keep my phone on me, rather than laughing at our paranoia about having them handy at all times.

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening, I dosed with ibuprofin, and huddled  under my double-polar-fleece lap blanket trying to warm up. Sleep was a whole 'nother issue. The sore hip is on the opposite side of me than my worst shoulder is. I'm a side sleeper. There was no comfortable position, both were wrong. Somehow I managed almost 4 hours, despite aggravating the hip in finding out just how unforgivingly hard toilet seats are and how perfectly positioned to hit the bruise.

Murphy may have taken a break for a while, but refused to be ignored for long. This morning even the cushion in my recliner is too hard in all the wrong places. At least walking reassured me that there was no bone problem, but I'm taking a second day off from work since I never made it yesterday. Of course, the weather forecast calls for the same rain/freezing rain/snow combo that started this in the first place. And that's no April Fools!