Magical Monarch Moment

There was some magnificence in today though. It was a beautiful day with a nice breeze. The birds, bees, and butterflies were busily enjoying all factors.
It's so nice that the small creatures of nature appreciate the work that I (and mostly my friend) put into creating a place for them.
It is also "nice" that I can sit at my desk and look out my door or window and see them going about their lives, adding their own color to the patchwork and their own movements to nature's dance.
I saw the little white butterflies that we called cabbage moths playing tag or chase, whooshing up an ascending breeze and drifting downward when it passes. They chased one another through the flower beds and across the yard for I don't know how long.
It made me laugh.
The magickal highlight today wasn't the white wingers playing tag together though. 

The highlight of the day was a single monarch butterfly.
This monarch, which looked to be as large as my hand, cruised in the center of the yard, away from the flowers and the weeds.
This monarch was alone. No companions; no playmates.
This monarch was in the spotlight -- I mean sunlight -- in the middle of my freshly mown yard, with the treetops tossing and the leaves cheering on.
And this monarch performed for it's audience.
(or was it only playing?)
Up and down it swam and soared and slid and sailed. Climbing and banking, or drifting in a straight(ish) line from one end of the yard to the other.
I swear I could almost hear it shrieking "Whee!" on several dives, and "Oooh!" during the climbs. I could feel the wind beneath its wings and the surety that came with that.
As I headed back inside, it floated toward me, rested for a moment -- I think it was smiling -- and then flew off in another direction.

New Year; Same OLD Me

There's really not much difference between December 31 and January 1, but just the changing of the calendar gives off a feeling of freshness. Of new starts, new chances, and Things Changing. 

It's a bit of silly, feeling that way, but most of us feel it anyway.

I think it has more to do with the returning daylight than anything else. 10 days or so, from the longest night and perhaps darkest day, the difference is already discernible. 

It is the return of hope. The promise of new life.

Usually, the coldest weather is yet to come. The snows, the ice, the blustering, freezing winds. 

But despite those disheartening events, there is daylight. A little more each day, and by the time a week or 10 days has elapsed, we can and will marvel how much longer the light is lingering.

This year past has brought almost every person some form of disease or disaster. The loss of someone or something; and the loss of individual freedoms for the greater good. (More shibboleths, I know, but the best way to repeat concepts as old as humankind.)

Let us try to remember this: That we have all lost something, even if it's "only" the world as we knew it. 

Scientists and politicians, so recently at odds, all forgot to reckon with the forces of Nature, or maybe the Wrath of God, if your beliefs lead you that way. When too much of any species occupies and consumes, in various ways, an area, then there comes a dying-off. You can blame the "smaller globe" syndrome. You can blame the Chineses people, who were just as disastrously dying as anyone else. You can blame spaceships, UFOs, aliens, angels, disturbed spirits, diseased factories, diseased morals. 

When there is so much disease, there will be a dying-off. 

This is one of the immutable rules of physical existence.

It is one of the rules of science.

It is also one of the rules of religions. That the diseased will be destroyed in great numbers whether in judgement and condemnation, or inertia.

Whatever the cause, it IS how things are. We start this New Year with the hope of brighter days coming and new life growing. We do not want to forget the loves we've lost or the lessons learned.

Let us fix what we can, instead of arguing over who to blame or how to avoid the inevitable.

Let us grow into better brighter tomorrows, worthy of those we cherish, whether they survive the struggle or not. We can bring something of them into the Fresh Tomorrow.

Let "us" be "us."

There is no them.

Only us.

Bugging Your Trees, Part 2

Now for my opinion. My uneducated, unresearched, untested;trusted;verified opinion.

It doesn't matter.

What you do, what the government does, what the experts do. None of it matters.

Nature does what nature does.

Insects and other pests have been catching rides on driftwood or pine cones for millennia. The fact that more of them are migrating faster only means that we ourselves are going farther faster. Who are we to object to other species doing the same thing, just because we don't like it.


Seriously, look at the waves and ways these invaders are coming in and popping up. If it's not one thing, it's another. For some reason, Nature is devouring our hardwoods.

And look again at the locations of the problems. Here in the USA, the heaviest concentrations of invasive beetles and such are in the areas known loosely as the "Great Lakes Regions"

Doesn't that make anyone think "Hmmm?"

My opinion is that these insects have been sent from God, Mother Nature, Father Time, Mother Earth -- whatever -- to taste and test and winnow out the weakest of the hardwoods. The delicious of the deciduous.

Why would this happen?
Climate change, people. Climate change. The Great Lakes were carved by Great Glaciers, or so we've been told. Te glaciers contained the seeds and roots and things of the trees that grew once the ice retreated -- the Earth reseeding after receding.

But first, the trees that remain to be regrown must have survived. They must be the least tasty, the less weak, the best of the best. Surviving the Ice takes strength and stamina. What better way to show that than by surviving an infectious infestation?


Whether my speculation has any basis or not, the governments interference in what may well be nature's preparedness can still have disastrous results. As many areas of Massachusetts and Ohio and Illinois can show you, the government solution has mainly turned forests into swamps. Removing multiple varieties of trees for whatever reason has damaged the ecology of the ares, There are no tree leaves and branches to capture rainwater to hold snowfall above the ground. There are no root systems to hold the ground in place, and with each rain-shower or snow-melt, the dirt becomes mud, becomes mire, becomes a marsh.

Let nature take its course. Nature has been managing the ecosystems here for longer than we can imagine. Everything happens for a reason.
And the most spectacular ecological failures have been caused by our efforts to fix the unbroken, to make Nature to do our bidding.
As we ourselves are a part of creation -- same as the bugs, beetles, and bacteria -- we really aren't helping.
We may not be that much of a hindrance, in the long run.

Nature does as nature does.

But I would rather enjoy the trees while we can, before they go away naturally.

September

I love the autumn.

Not just the beauty of the color changing tree, of the land slowly baking under long days of slanting sun.

There's also the scents -- dry, dry, dry leaves, grains, grasses, weeds. The washed earth as the harvest is gleaned from the depths. The wood cuts and stacks for winter warmth.

I love the feel of the air on my skin. A lingering caress as warmth says a lingering farewell, with reminders that it will return -- someday.

I love the tastes of fresh produce, the good clean tangy taste that is in the air, not the mouth. (I'm not real crazy about the taste of pumpkin spiced everything that has become a cultural norm, but I like that it exists and is everywhere to remind me that it is again glorious Fall.

I like the sounds; the plop of fruit dropping from trees, the crisp crunch of leaves, the crickets drowning out the cicadas. (This is the first summer in my memory where I have ever sat on the porch and heard the crickets and cicadas together in concert.)

 I enjoy these other senses as I do wait for the visual changes. The sky is shading into that deep October blue shade, but the trees and plants are only just beginning to turn. For now they are yellow, brown, withering.


Will this be a Golden Autumn, with trees of gold and yellow and orange?
Will it be a flaming autumn, when the leaves are red and copper and magenta?

Will the green tarry a while, or will it vanish over night?

I can't wait to find out, and yet I must.

The season itself cannot be gathered until ripe.

Not Quite "Christmas in July"

We are enjoying a lovely bout of October weather here at the end of July. It's not quite a "Christmas in July" but I'll take it. I think it's pretty darned nice!

I'm not quite sure what the technical situation is . The weathermen on the TV have been talking about "record high lows" and "record low highs". All of this makes sense to me while they are explaining it, with little charts and diagrams onscreen, but my understanding disappears with the charts. Somehow, I don't think a record high low is a record low. That would be a low low, to be a new record.
Am I wrong about that?

I am surprised at their surprise. For the last several years, the weather seems to have shifted somewhat. Spring blooms earlier, summer dies off earlier. The key is not in the calendar, but in the wildlife. We've had daffodils in February, redbuds at the end of March, black-eyed Susans and Tiger lilies in July. Daffodils used to be "Easter lilies" to us as children, the redbuds are more familiar in mid to late April, and the susies and tigers should only now be coming into full growth. Both of these are part of the transition to September.

September and October should be foxtails and goldenrod and grass (hay) drying in the fields. The last few years, we have had the goldenrod before school starts in mid-August. This year it looks as if the same thing will happen. We'll see the first snowflakes in late October or early November. The "January thaw" will be near Christmas.

But, NO.
Not necessarily.
Here I am, doing the same thing as the weathermen and meteorologists -- trying to put Mother Nature and her business into neat little cubicles (dates on a calendar.)

When will we learn that nothing not man-made fits into our neat little boxes?
Just because it's usually gold and orange in September doesn't mean it always will be so.
Just because it has always snowed in February doesn't mean we can't have sunshine and warm southern breezes that month.

There are plenty of people ready to blame man-made sources for the changes in the weather. Plenty of them, but their 'proof'' is that the weather has changed. That really doesn't prove the why.

Weather has never been constant according to Modern Man's demands. The constancy is vague and steady,  seasonal; not date-to-date, not month-to-month. Weather just won't fit our convenience.

Maybe the solution to our (not a) problem will end up being the time-honored tradition of updating the calendar. That is what our species has done historically when the seasons and the dates have become out of sync.



I say let's keep our calendars loose and flexible, and let us not bind ourselves too closely to what our little blank calendar boxes and our record books say we should expect from the weather. Because, no matter how many blacks we draw for time and nature, these things will not co-operate with the corporate mentality.

Above all, though,  let us enjoy  this October weather in July. 

Mowing away

I complain a lot -- and I know it's a lot -- about the way my neighbors mow.
No, it's not the way; it is the frequency.

I don't want anyone to think that I don't appreciate, acknowledge, and value the well-kept lawn. I even get ashamed of ours when it isn't mowed, although I also like to watch the teeny-tiny wildflowers that work their way through the grass. Pinkish white, yellow, purple.
Delicate.
Beautiful.

I like to watch the birds, too. They really have a feast once the longer grass has been cut. I suppose that there must be more of it gone to seed and once it's cut the birdies can get at the seeds. They sure do like it for some reason! They make almost as much noise as the neighbor's lawnmowers.

If I had a mower I could use, I'd probably mow every day, too. I'd mow the front on Monday, the side on Tuesday, the other side Wednesday, and I'd split the back on the other two weekdays.

But I wouldn't mow the whole freaking lawn every other day! That does NOT equal a beautiful lawn.
In fact, the lawns in question were turning brown -- in APRIL! In OHIO!
Sounds like overkill to me.

But I have no grudge against the normal people who take satisfaction in a job well done. Or those whose goal is to beautify and brighten, and to create a resting place for the eyes.
To those yard workers and weed warriors, I say "Well done" and "Thank you." Your efforts are noticed and appreciated.
You may make me look bad, but your work is beautiful.

Spring Sitting

This is the weekend of the springtime community yard sales, and I trotted out all my stuff -- much better stuff this time around. Dresses, unworn for years, but nice dresses. Toddler toys, that if I don't sell I can save. The new baby will be a toddler someday. Yard tools too heavy for me and ,y husband, too awkward for me.

Anyway, it's good stuff in good condition -- except for where the bird pooped on the youth-sized formal. (Make me an offer, I'll knock off some dollars for droppings)

It's funny that I have yet to sell anything, when the product is more diverse and in better shape. But selling doesn't seem to be the value in this spring's yard sale.

The value is in the sitting. Blue skies, puffy clouds, spilling sunshine. Birdsong, barking dogs, and playing children 2 yards down.

There is peace here in sitting on the porch, watching people passing.Peace in listening to nature, even dogfights or catfights (the animal kind)
Peace in looking and breathing and waiting. Time to rest, perhaps. Time to enjoy..
Time to be.

I need this time. It isn't always what you make, but what you make of it.

Suicide -- Nature or Nurture?

Does suicide run in families?
Why might suicide run in families?

 

Some observers think that there may be a more accepting attitude in families where this has happened.Or that it is more tolerated as being something of a family trait.
This is what scientists call the 'nurture' effect. (Actually, I doubt scientists call it that among themselves, but it's the general population understanding of what scientists call it. They probably refer to it ad "Environmental Effects of X on Y")


There may be something to this. If the inevitability is accepted,does that make it acceptable?
If a child grows up being told how much he is just like the charming, entertaining Uncle Waldo -- such a card! -- will he grow up to be another Uncle Waldo?
What if, after the show is over and the lights have gone down, Uncle Waldo couldn't live with his image or his heartbreak -- if Uncle Waldo committed suicide, will Uncle Waldo's relative then get a free pass to do the unthinkable?

It may help the surviving family to think so. There may be an easing of grief and guilt by blaming it on family history.
Family history may be to blame that symptoms went unacknowledged.. The reason why no help was sought, because the story is more lively than the backstory. Because the entertainment has more 'body' than the ending.

But how much of that is Nature. Depression is a physically caused illness that affects the mind. Depression runs in families. So far as I know, specific genes have not been found, but there have been indications of gene markers, whatever they are.

I liken the nature of the disease depression to the disease diabetes.
If your family has a history of late 30/ early 40s young adults sinking into coma a coma, is it acceptable to shrug and say, "Oh well, he's just like Uncle Waldo"?
Of course not.
When the coma happens, or the despair -- it's time to look for medical answers. They do exist.
In the case of the diabetic, it's easily diagnosed and usually easily treated.
Depression is not as easy, but there are treatments and therapies. Just as the diabetic needs to adjust dosages and behaviors, so does the depressed patient.


But if the diagnosis and treatments can't be adjusted quickly enough, in either case, the  sufferer will die as a function of his disease.
Not because he is just like Uncle Waldo, but because he suffered from the same (genetically influenced) disease.

I suppose, like most things, it is a combination of the two effects. Not nature vs nurture, but nature&nurture. Plus individuality.

What I would like to do is to urge anyone with suicide as a family trend, is to learn and be alert to the signs of this disease (or any related illness). Don't watch and worry -- that would be enough to make a sane person crazy -- but be aware.

It's not just the family history -- it's the family future.

Lawns are Overrated

This summer may be as memorable for its Lawn Mowing Crises as it will be for its No Bathing scenario.

When last we mowed, the riding mower  wasn't starting, so not running, and our quasi son-in-law had been mowing when the push mower decided to oil both him and the yard, as if from a cut artery. Rex went to a yard sale and bought another push mower. The Doofus mowed, but before he finished, he managed to break a ceramic guard off the newly purchased mower.

Rex managed to start and run the rider a few times, through the magic of jiggling and wiggling the fuse box, so the yard was done after a fashion. Not that he has had any business outside in heat and humidity, throwing up clouds of cut grass and pollens.
Earlier this week he was mowing on the rider when it quit cutting. It was running, but it just quit cutting the grass.
His diagnosis: a bearing on the deck went out. (Later he said it might be a broken or stretched-out belt, but of course the first thing he thought of was the most difficult and probably the most expensive cause.) We're waiting for Doofus to come and help him check it out, since it isn't something Rex can do alone or with my feeble assistance.

Yesterday I got out the push mower. I couldn't start it. Starting a push mower requires more co-ordination than I have ever had, and a fair bit of strength. I had hoped to have some mowing done by the time Rex woke, but that wasn't going to happen.

The sad thing is, he no longer has the strength to push/pull/hold and start the mower. At least, he didn't yesterday. It may have been a bad day for him. More likely it is his chronic illness catching up with him.
He's not ready to concede that, and it will take something from his spirit when he does.

What's so important about mowing anyway? Have you ever tried letting your lawn grow and seeing what Mother Nature will provide when you don't scalp her abundance to nothing?

There are shy little white flowers, with sprinklings of gold fairy dust that will creep out from the exposed roots of trees. There are exquisitely tiny johnny-jump-ups that jump up from nowhere. There are, of course, the golden sun discs of the dandelion. The white-to-pink-to-purple fronds of clover. There is the weaving waving sinuous grass-in-the-wind. And that's just the plant life!

Lawn mowing is overrated. It's too bad that so many towns require a certain amount of lawn mowing, because Nature provides a nice variety of textures and colors and scents and sounds and general liveliness that will never be felt, seen, smelled, or heard in a properly manicured and subdued lawn.

I cherish the variety Nature provides. I also cherish my husband, and I mourn with him that he cannot do this one thing that he has taken pride in being able to do -- keep his yard looking nice. If we cannot fix or replace his rider, or get a push mower that doesn't need starting (my first brother suggested an electric mower -- a wonderful idea for the purpose), then we will have to look into a different living arrangement.

Different indeed, with no lawn for him to mow or me to watch nature grow. It will be sad to leave the roots and wonders, but a joy to leave the(before, during, later on) malfunctioning machinery behind and have it out of our lives.


When that day ever comes. It's taking its time, as Nature takes hers, and fills my yard with flowers.

Flow of Family Fun

My brother's wedding Saturday made me think of how we, as a family, handle the ebb and flow of these get-togethers. Summer means there will be a few, and maybe a few more.

I opted out of many family events because I wanted to avoid conflict with my dad, who is gone now. He and I were on opposite ends of the ideological spectrum, and he was always outspoken about his beliefs. I don't think he ever meant to start any fuss and bother, he just wanted to convince everyone of how he believed.

Add to his firmness, the fact that he was deaf, and whether one agreed or disagreed, one had to shout and make prolonged eye contact to converse. I don't know how it works for others, but shouting, even over innocuous topics, ends up with me becoming angry. Shouting as a physical function, raises the blood pressure, which causes a flood of other reactions.

Anyway, because of the situation, I avoided. Didn't stop my girls from knowing their grandfather, did prevent them from seeing me act like a shrewish lunatic with him.

Now, I see my own daughter mirroring this behavior. Because of work and also because of some personal issues with family members, she has avoided the family get-togethers. No one wants to be involved in a fight, or to be the person everyone in the family fights with or becomes angry over the fighting.
Anyway, she has chosen to abstain from the possibility of conflict.

But she worries about her child not getting to know this side of her family, and the solution Tam reached was the same one I did. To allow the child to attend in the care of another family member. (In her case. me.)

Maybe it's wrong, but it seems to me the best solution. Not in every situation, not for every event, but in general it's a good thing. It acknowledges the importance of family, it keeps up traditions. even starts a new one -- tradition by proxy.

Like all families, we disagree. Sometimes we take sides against one another, and we'll talk to a third member about how stupid so-and-so is about whatever. We can be vicious or angry, or vicious and angry.
But when we get together as a group, we try to enjoy one another's company without conflict. We aren't perfect, sometimes a forbidden topic slips in and someone feels attacked.

We respect one another. We know we are available to each-and-every in at least some way. Making an effort to keep the young ones connected even when we can't teaches them, by example, that family IS important. The events that Family is Fun. No matter if it's you or they who are the stupid or wrong ones. Family IS.

As the worldly world whirls by, as weather wreaks havoc, as all our institutions are besieged, there can be no stronger message to leave our children.

Draw Deep, Reach High.

To me, there is nothing more beautiful than a tree. It doesn't matter the type, or the season, or the shade, shape or color. I love trees.
Even ugly trees have a beauty, a symmetry (or dis-symmetry) that catches the eye and takes the breath away.
Is there anything more striking to the eye than the deep luscious green of a Scotch Pine or Blue Spruce towering against the pale blue of a December sky?

Trees connect earth and sky, drawing from deep within and reaching for the unreachable. They maintain beauty and grace as they do so, even in unlikely ways from unlikely places. When bare in winter, their bare bones etch  lines on the horizon -- pen-and-ink drawings of starkness.  Fully gowned in summer greens, these bones peek through, offering glimpses of grace and strength. Spring pastels greet the return of the sun, and the colors are muted for eyes no longer accustomed to bright colors. Autumn brings a bright farewell from the deciduous, a blast of color that will fade in our memories -- nothing could really have been that brilliant, could it? -- until spring tiptoes the colors of life back into our lives.

Our trees are under attack.
Now, under Mother Nature's rules, everything is always under attack from something else. It's the way of growing stronger, living longer. What doesn't kill, makes stronger, no matter the species.

The attacks I speak of are not those of Mother Nature, although She started it. She sent an explosion, an excursion, an invasion of tree-eating bugs. We responded, trying to eradicate the bugs, not with insecticides, not with vaccines or medicines. We have responded to this threat to our trees by destroying the trees.

Can you imagine if this logic was applied to people? (It has been, in the past. Now called racism, and no one wants to admit their part in it.) Can you think of any more diseased species than Humans? Can you think of any more destructive force than Humans?  Has any species trampled more ground, destroyed more places, ruined more lives than Humans?

It may be that Mother Nature has had enough of us. She may be getting ready to destroy our habitats, to tear down our homes, to remove the blight of our being from the face of her earth.  Who can blame her?

And the trees will stand tall against the landscape. Their roots will draw deep from the Earth herself. Their arms will lift to the sky, seeking sun and light and fresh air.

 Between earth and sky, the trees will remain.

If we let them.

The Summer Sunday Parade

Wrote this a couple years ago; it's a personal favorite. And while it is Easter weekend this year, not Memorial Day, the brrooomms and bzzzes of the neighborhood, raised voices and banging doors makes this selection seem appropriate for Now. I hope you enjoy reading this.

The Summer Sunday Parade

It's quiet in my part of the world today. A peaceful, storybook Sunday morning. So far. But this weekend is the unofficial first weekend of summer, and the 'parade' has already begun,
Not the parades that will be tomorrow -- those are official things, but along with the unofficial meaning of Memorial Day, comes the unofficial parades.
Every town has not only its own traditions, but also its own little habits. Winchester Ohio has one that I've not seen before.

Like most small Ohio towns, Winchester has one gas station and a half- dozen or so churches. The Sunday morning peacefulness is due in large part to these churches. Parking lots overflow, the curbs are 'fully loaded' yet there are no people anywhere, not even annoying loud-mouths on (or off) their skateboards, standing in the middle of the streets blocking traffic.

On Sunday, even the lawn mowers have a peaceful hum. And everyone knows that, because Sunday afternoon in Winchester is the time to take your lawn mower to the gas station. Not take. Sunday afternoons are when we drive our lawn mowers to the gas station.

Yes, the Summer Sunday parade has begun. Church is out, dinner has been eaten, and it's time to fill up the lawn mower for the week ahead. All afternoon, I can sit on my porch and watch as they trickle by. Even with gas over $4 a gallon, it's easier to take out the lawn mower than take out the gas can, put it in car, drive the car, take gas can out of trunk, fuill it up, put back in trunk, drive home, take can out and empty into mower. Besides, it's much more fun to meander slowly down the road, wave to neighbors, enjoy the fresh air and sunshine.

Impractical, yes.
Energy-concious, not so much.
But, sometimes, life should just be savored, and a Sunday drive on a lawn mower fits that definition just fine.

Mother Nature on a Rampage

Usually I try to vary the topics of my entries, but this week has been a little two sided. (I would say one-sided, but there are two subjects going on.) Weather and trees. Towns and tornadoes.

The trees I'll have to put on the back burner for now -- or maybe not. Mother Nature decided to give a head start on some of the tree removals. Just ripped and twisted and tossed the trees around a bit. Maybe she's upset with the puny men who are trying to undo her work, or who think they can do her job better than she does.

The puny men (USDA) have requested that anyone with damaged trees inspect them for the beetle. Don't know why they can't do this part of their job themselves, now that Mother has made it easier for them.

And residents and workers are wondering if they are supposed to suspend operations and wait for these people to approve their labors.

Will people have to remain homeless  and powerless -- certainly in more than one sense of the word -- while the government contractors twiddle their fingers waiting for others to do their jobs for them?

They are already onsite, or close enough. You would think they'd be in there before the rest. Just think of all the extra man-hours they could bill taxpayers for, under the circumstances.

Moscow Ohio, Clermont County, on the river, was hard hit. Moscow has been around for close to 300 years, but the historic town is said to have no two story buildings anymore. The brand new business that was building now has no building to finish up. Time will tell if they rebuild. Time and insurance, probably.

More damage was done in the Felicity-Bethel-Hamersville area. How lovely. That's exactly where my sister lives. She was driving home from Hamersville.

There was serious damage in other places as well. The Weather Service declared a tornado emergency in Clermont County, in Ohio. Most of us, including the meteorologists, had no idea what that even means. It took help from my brother in Kansas and the weathermen making phone calls before we knew it means multiple twisters from the same storm on the ground at the same time.

We don't get that here.

It's been an eventful week. Between Big Brother and Earth's Mother, our metaphorical and metaphysical family has kept us hopping. And some are hurting for their actual family. My family was fortunate. Most of the people I know were fortunate.

But some weren't, and I don't think they will be worrying about bugs in trees. They have Life and Death to deal with.

Blown away -- Mild winter to Wild Spring

I guess it's official. The Winter that wasn't is over. We had tornadoes across the middle of our country yesterday.

Tornadoes! In February?

All too often, the result of a mild winter is a wild spring -- and summer, and fall. I've seem tornadoes into November. But starting in February? Even in tornado alley, that's unprecedented.

And they came at night, roaring into and through the lives of the sleeping, turning night time into a time of horror and dread. How many people, old and young, are going to have PTSD at bedtime for the rest of their lives.

Tornadoes scare the hell out of me. Night time tornadoes, like these, are terrifying to think of. Way too many people had to live that terror -- and some of them did not survive it.

The big news is Branson Missouri, a town that made itself into something newsworthy. It's big claim to fame is that they can put on big shows with big stars. Fortunately -- let's all take a big sigh of relief -- it's not yet 'the season' and there were no celebrities to be displaced or disturbed or wakened. Thank God for that! Let no one, not even Mother Nature, disturb the stars.

In the meantime, Harveyville Kansas,  Harrisburg Illinois, Elizabethtown Kentucky are among the places digging out the dead and injured and just plain stuck. These are among the places trying to find where to even start digging out. These are among the places that may have had F-4 or F-5 twisters, and whose towns have been permanently marred.

But, Let us all be happy that Branson (where the storm was F-2) hasn't been destroyed and suffered relatively minor damage. The stars still have a place to play come summer.

Thank goodness everyone is not so blind as the media. Rescue efforts are underway and helping hands being extended to ALL the places and people in need. I'd like to especially commend Lowe's, who must keep a rescue team ready. They are already responding with donations and helping hands, to crossroad towns and small cities alike. Thank you.

And thank you to everyone who is doing what they can, if it's only a brief prayer between pouring cups of coffee or changing diapers.

It's going to be a long season. Keep ready, everyone. Don't be caught sleeping.

where is winter?

When I went to get my mail today, I saw the daffodils in my flower bed. Full buds, lush green leaves, several inches high. How they got that big without my seeing them, I don't know, but there they were.

It's still January, and this is still Ohio.

We've had some snow, a few cold snaps, but not really any winter yet. It hasn't been really cold for a really long time (like a whole week.) We haven't had to go out and shovel the sidewalks. We've barely had to salt the roads.

It sounds like a good winter, doesn't it? Makes you wonder what I'm complaining about and why?

I can answer that. I've lived hereabouts my whole life. If we don't have weather in its 'prescribed courses' -- we pay.
We pay with day after day of tornado alerts. We pay with droughts or cold in July when the crops need warmth, or wild winds, or something.
When we have mild Januaries, we often pay with frigid Februaries and meltless Marches. In fact, we get snowed in in March, if we haven't got our fair share of the white stuff before then.
A green Christmas, any native can tell you, often means a white Easter. (Or opening Day, depending on how you reckon the seasons.)

Neighbors, family, and friends -- do not be like those precipitate daffodils. Do not creep out from your cover until it is the season for creeping. Do not be caught unprepared and unaware.

It may seem that winter has snuck  in and snuck out, but chances are that wily old man is waiting for you to step outside in your shirtsleeves. He will slam your door in your face -- maybe using those March winds?-- and then he will layer you beneath the cotton flakes of snow.

BEWARE!

snow 'storm' -- yeah, right

We are in the midst of our first winter storm. From the forecasts, it's got the potential to be nasty. A day of heavy rain, changing over to snow, then plummeting temperatures, rising winds, and more snow. Up to 7 inches in places is what they are saying now.

I know this isn't a lot for many places. People in this area like to feel superior because Atlanta and Charleston close down for an inch or two. You'd think they would figure that that Chicagoans and Canadians sneer at them in the same manner -- and justifiably so.

No matter where you are, this sounds like a bad sequence of events. I'm going to be ready for ice on the power lines and the wind whipping them around. I took it upon myself to warn facebook friends and family who are local to get alternate heat. Even if they don't need it this time, at least they'll have it.

Makes me wonder, though. How do places like Buffalo and Chicago and points north not have problems with power outages?
clearing roads and keeping businesses open -- a lot of that is just better systems and better products. Spraying roads with an antifreeze solution for one thing. That's not cost effective here., although it is occasionally tried and used.

Is it possible that  these snow cities have a more laid back attitude? Here, the counties and townships have to post snow emergencies and tell people they aren't allowed to drive, and then peopled do anyway, because they'll get fired if they don't come to work. Do the snow cities have a greater tolerance for snow days for adults? Or are adults just more prepared for the weather because it is the norm?

How do they avoid the sometimes days-long power outages that we have here? Or do they as a rule 'just' prepare for that, too?  Do most homes have an alternate heat  source? Or a non-electric dependent furnace?

I'd like to know, so I can be more prepared myself. So I can help others be more prepared.

As it is, if you have problems, but can get out, my door is always open to anyone in need. We will have food and heat, if we need back ups, and you are all welcome here.

(written Saturday December 11)