Nov 14, 2011 by Naomi.

Sometimes washing is a waste. I washed a sheet and hung it out early never thinking the northeast wind might not be friendly. Well it was chilly, northeast winds often are and at 49 F it was decidedly chilly. But washed items dry quicker with a wind so I was optimistic. That is until I saw the wind whip the sheet up on the shop literally wiping the leaves and dirt off the corrugated roof. The towels and undies were too short to help the culprit. Not that that is going to help the sheet. To fight the wind and retrieve the sheet was a challenge. I finally gave up. When I get my energy back I might bring the sheet into the sink and wash it over again. Or I might just put the dry one in the bag I send off to Good Will or maybe deep six.

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Nov 14, 2011 by Naomi.

'Tis advertised in Boston, New York and Buffalo, Five hundred brave Americans, A-whaling for to go, singing, Chorus: Blow, ye winds in the morning, And blow, ye winds, high-o! Clear away your running gear, And blow, ye winds, high-o!  2. They send you to New Bedford, That famous whaling port, And give you some land-sharks To board and fit you out. Chorus:  3. They send you to a boarding house, There for a time to dwell; The thieves they there are thicker Than the other side of hell! Chorus:  4. They tell you of the clipper ships A-going in and out, And say you’ll take five hundred sperm Before you’re six months out. Chorus:  5. It’s now we’re out to sea, my boys, The wind comes on to blow; One half the watch is sick on deck, The other half below. Chorus:  6. But as for the provisions, We don’t get half enough; A little piece of stinking beef And a blamed small bag of duff. Chorus:  7. Now comes that damned old compass, It will grieve your heart full sore. For theirs is two and thirty points And we have forty four. Chorus:  8. Next comes the running rigging, Which you’re all supposed to know; ‘Tis “Lay aloft, you son of a gun, Or overboard you go!” Chorus:  9. The coopers’s at the vise bench, A-making iron poles, And the mate’s upon the main hatch A-cursing all our souls. Chorus:  10. The Skipper’s on the quarterdeck A-squinting at the sails, When up aloft the lookout sights A school of whales. Chorus:  11. “Now clear away the boats, my boys, And after him we’ll travel, But if you get too near his fluke, He’ll kick you to the devil!” Chorus:  12. Now we have got him turned up, We tow him alongside; We over with our blubber hooks, And rob him of his hide. Chorus:  13. Now the boat steerer overside The tackle overhauls, The Skipper’s in the main-chains, So loudly does he bawl! Chorus:  14. Next comes the stowing down, my boys, ‘Twill take both night and day, And you’ll all have fifty cents apiece On the hundred and ninetieth lay. Chorus:  15. Now we are bound into Tonbas, That blasted whaling port, And if you run away, my boys, You surely will get caught. Chorus:  16. Now we are bound into Tuckoona, Full more in their power, Where the skippers can buy the Consul up For half a barrel of flour! Chorus:  17. But now that our old ship is full And we don’t give a damn, We’ll bend on all our stu’nsails And sail for Yankee land. Chorus:  18. When we get home, our ship made fast, And we get through our sailing, A winding glass around we’ll pass And damn this blubber whaling! Chorus:

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Nov 14, 2011 by Naomi.

My kitchen window overlooks the neighbor’s front steps. Their huge uncovered bulb blares so much light into my kitchen I do not need my lights. But Buena goes out as usual at 7:25 for work with her yellow and green basket-woven bag and starts Benny’s red car. Benny’s brother - same type head with no noticeable neck, but with a tiny black van Dyke beard - comes out with a dog carrier that will sequester two junkyard crosses of questionable heritage in the back seat of another red car parked at the curb. Then a wheeled suitcase. When a sturdy woman in skin tight black jeans ushers the dogs into the curbed car, I presume the weekend is over. I drink my morning coffee and turn to place my empty cup in the sink. Both cars are gone. For me an ordinary week is about to begin.

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Nov 12, 2011 by Naomi.

Richland is not usually a rainy location but we are after all into a period of climate change so we can expect the unusual. Rain fell on Friday night when I drove to meet with the Benton County Democrats for potluck supper. Not so as to need an umbrella but more than the sprinkle we residents call a Richland shower. The full moon was bright the night before and I was disappointed to have a cloud cover this night. The wind blew with chilly gusts from the northeast and did not let much sun through today. I did a walkabout round the shop before breakfast and thought I should do another spin again before eating a snack. Good thing I did too, because after dark I stepped on the back porch to shake a rug and, whoa, rain was falling once again. My back yard is hard and dry so those raindrops are fine with me.

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Nov 9, 2011 by Naomi.

Walking in the back yard around the shop is the best exercise I can do in this near frosty weather. I did four or five rounds with my left hip complaining all the way. The temperature slowly rose to fifty as I made the circles. A volunteer cottonwood is nearly three feet tall before I noticed it. I couldn’t have placed it better between the witch tree and the apricot if I had planned it. In the center of the back yard it will tower (eventually) above every other tree and I couldn’t be more pleased. The city hauled away the garbage bin full of leaves this morning but it will be many weeks before all fallen soldiers will march to the landfill. I collected a specimen from each tree and bush for my pressed collection. I will compare those with another collection I made years past. Oh how I love to collect! Leaves. Stamps. Thimbles. Little things that don’t take up much space, thimbles from all the states and countries I visited, being the most visible in a shadow box on the wall. Leaves and stamps more easily pressed into three-ring notebooks take less space that way. Agates and other rocks brought from other countries were carefully wrapped in my clothes for transport. Although well wrapped, a large blue butterfly fashioned of leaded glass sustained two cracks on the trip home from Australia. Sometimes I buy a souvenir mug when I attend conferences which explains the mugs from Freethought (FFRF) and Shakespeare’s theater in the round, but not the one pressed from Georgia Pacific’s Puget ULTRA pulp. And there is the coarse first fallen ash from the Mt St Helen’s eruption in 1980. Not to mention dozens of magnets shown off beautifully on my lovely black refrigerator/freezer. And I will not mention the insects I kill and stick on pins for display on styrafoam for studying invertebrates.

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Nov 6, 2011 by Naomi.

I know - it is only 3:15, the middle of the afternoon but I quit! I’m sweaty and all worn out. I filled my yard waste bin and garbage bin with raked leaves but still more await the effort. My yard is too well protected by the cedar fence so I can’t expect a playful wind to sweep the leaves away. I know they will stay put until I get my energy back. The only leaves left on trees are those on the apricot tree which are yet green. Danny called earlier and we had a nice talk. Alex and Beth are engaged but I doubt I can go there for a wedding. After several hours of sweaty work I haven’t the energy to think of future plans. All local friends were told that I planned to stay home this winter, even our Thanksgiving dinner is scheduled. No preparation for me again this year. Oh how I love having friends that like to cook so much they need company to help with the eating. Goody! Now I can really relax. I will not look outside to calculate how much more energy will be required to finish my raking job. I will get to it eventually. I suspect there is work in the front as well. (although without a fence, those leaves just might fly down Abbot street on a wonderful capricious wind!)

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Nov 5, 2011 by Naomi.

Please to remember the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot. Happy Birthday Timothy D. Sherer. The poetry was easy to memorize but I am more interested in his birthday than history however, the line brings the date forward. Originally the ditty had reference to a failed assassination attempt against King Henry by a group of provincial English Cathlolics. But as we say in our Freethought meeting every Sunday, religion is divisive, and turns people against their own families, so what else is new? I have some resistance against celebrating birthdays because when it involves my family, the reference is invariably compared to my age. Where I might celebrate a date, I do not broadcast the years. Well why not? Every day is great. When I told Nancy I was happily ensconced in my warm house after a walk about the shop, she wondered if I was isolating myself. Then maybe not. Earlier in the week I joined fellow Democrats in Drinking Liberally. Friday I met old friends at the Richland Community Center to help fold and label over 200 newsletters for mailing. We had over an hour to get everyone up to date about gossip while performing the mindless task. Today I walked the chip trail at McNary, admonished a couple of dogs for running without leashes, and noticed several places where animals had gone into the bushes. My life is not dull. And I do remember the fifth of November.

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Nov 1, 2011 by Naomi.

November first started with frosty windshields and foggy breath. My lucky (?) neighbors had scraping to do or waiting for the car warm up long enough to melt the frost in order to be swept away by the windshield wipers. When I was young and vigorous and thrilled to go to a job I loved, the windshield was cleared, scraped or whatever, as a matter of course. Now there is no need to scrape. I not only do not have a job but I have the car parked within cedar fencing that holds in heat. The frost will melt soon. Well maybe not. I will take my winter jacket out of the closet and bundle up, mittens and scraper, and make my way through crispy fallen leaves. There is not a single reason to do so - except that I want the fresh air and need the exercise. There will be many shorter days which will seem even shorter next week when daylight savings time begins. I find that a silly concept, as if we can make more daylight by turning back the clock. Just go with the flow, Lady, the way you’ve done in the past. There is a lot of living left to be done. Scrape the frost and keep moving!

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