Month: May 2022
Caveat: Poem #2129 “Things a dog can find with her nose”
ㅁ Slug and fog and stone. Road, potholes, dog running west. She found bear poop. Nice.
Caveat: Tree #1221
This tree was befogged.
I, too, was befogged.
I spent the day doing a very strange thing (for me): I was working in Microsoft Windows on my computer. I always use linux. I’ve been using linux at home quite consistently for 10 years now – I remember when I triumphantly installed it on my posh new home desktop in that old, run-down apartment in Juyeop in Korea in the Spring of 2012. I remember the smell of the street through the open windows and the sound of traffic.
But something prompted me to make sure the old Windows boot on my current desktop computer still worked, to run updates, to make sure I could at least do some basic stuff with it. I think I’ve been feeling that my computer skills have been getting “fragile” – that I depend too much on linux and suffer a lack of “tech resiliency”, or something like that. I want to remain able to adapt.
Windows is pretty sucky, but there have been some improvements. One thing that is to be found in recent windows versions: the so-called “Windows subsystem for linux (WSL)”, which allows a linux hacker like me to use familiar bash commands to do things while working in windows.
One thing that I did get working, somewhat unexpectedly: iTunes. Apple doesn’t make an iTunes version for linux, but it does make one for Windows, and I did get it working. I think this is important because Arthur’s capacity to navigate his quite baroque iTunes arrangement on his macbook sometimes seems dangerously compromised, and we somewhat rely on this for our evening entertainment (the ripped-and-stored TV shows and movies that we watch on his AppleTV).
So it’s good to have the possibility that I could host these TV shows if Arthur ever eventually decides to give up doing so, or simply can’t. I struck another blow against excessive “tech fragility”.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; dogwalking, 3km; c103069069084s]
Caveat: Poem #2128 “Fifty-sixth stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon sat and gazed out at the fog: seemed she was facing a bit of a slog. Not so much bodily as with her mind; somehow she had to escape from this bind.
Caveat: Tree #1220
Caveat: 자빠져도 코가 깨여진다
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
자빠져도 코가 깨여진다 ja.ppa.jyeo.do ko.ga kkae.yeo.jin.da fall-down-on-back-CONCESS nose-SUBJ break-PRES Notwithstanding falling on one's back, one's nose is broken.
This means that misfortune follows on misfortune. “It never rains but it pours,” maybe.
I was a bit thrown off by the verb 깨여지다 ([kkaeyeojida] above in present tense with inserted -ㄴ-). The dictionary only lists 깨어지다 [kkaeeojida] (without palatization on the second syllable). I suspect an error in the book of aphorisms, either by the use of some non-standard regionalism or else a simple typo.
Caveat: Poem #2127 “Finding a purpose in life”
Caveat: Tree #1219
This tree was humbled by the vastness of the sky.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; dogwalking, 3km; c102062062084s]
Caveat: Poem #2126 “Latitude”
Caveat: Tree #1218
Caveat: Poem #2125 “Purple”
Caveat: Tree #1217
This tree saw the framing-in of the west wall of the treehouse.
Now… I still need some more 3/8″ plywood for covering the framed-in walls, and I then need to engineer some doors – the door-openings are of course non-standard sizes (and likely not even square), so the doors will have to be custom-made. This will push my wood-working skills past any previous benchmark, if it proves successful.
[daily log: walking, 6.5km; dogwalking, 3km; c113068075084s]
Caveat: Poem #2124 “The eventual reward”
ㅁ Despite my best procrastination games, the map took shape. Regardless of my aims, a steady application makes it grow and finally it looks like somewhere real.
Caveat: Tree #1216
Caveat: Poem #2123 “Unmotivated”
ㅁ The day presented tasks to do, and some of them got done; but in the end I noticed more the clouds yield to the sun.
Caveat: Tree #1215
Caveat: Such Choices
I voted today: a vote-by-mail jungle primary, for the at-large Congressional seat vacated by the death of Don Young, Alaska’s Representative since the Early Paleolithic. There are forty-eight candidates. But the choices are best summarized by the names at the top of the two columns on the ballot.
Apparently Santa Claus is a real guy’s legal name – he lives in North Pole (a suburb of Fairbanks) and serves on the city council there.
Caveat: Poem #2122 “Misperception”
ㅁ Late at night there was a glow The sky was white, I thought: snow; it was just some fog, so... no.
Caveat: Tree #1214
Caveat: Poem #2121 “The sun is heavy”
ㅁ It is good the drizzle's back: under the sun's glaring track you feel the cooling cloud's lack.
Caveat: Tree #1213
This tree saw me making some steps along the path from the driveway down to the treehouse. These are not the only steps necessary – more, other steps are necessary; but these steps seemed the most necessary – there’s been a little mini cliff that I had to navigate along the path until now.
Here is another angle on those steps.
[daily log: walking, 5.5km; dogwalking, 3km; c108062067084s]
Caveat: 굽은 나무는 길마가지가 된다
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
굽은 나무는 길마가지가 된다 gup.eun na.mu.neun gil.ma.ga.ji.ga doen.da be-crooked-PART tree-TOPIC packsaddle-branch-SUBJ become-PRES A crooked tree [can still] become a tree-swing.
This is to say, something that seems useless can still prove useful, when seen in the right light. The word 길마 [gilma] gave me some difficulty – I can’t actually find any online result to match the idea that it means “swing” – but I found that it can mean “packsaddle” (as on a donkey, ox, or horse), and that seems close enough semantically that I think that’s how this works. A “branch-packsaddle” seems a plausible idiom to express the idea of an a treeswing.
Caveat: Poem #2120 “Greenhouse report”
ㅁ The young lettuce does okay. The leeks are having a day. But the radishes delay.
Caveat: Tree #1212
This tree saw the former storage tent (“studio”) finally rest in peace. I have completely cleared the original location of the storage tent.
It involved a lot of walking back and forth, carrying stuff – I made a new “under tarp” storage facility in a different location.
[daily log: walking, 11.5km; dogwalking, 3km; c102062072084s]
Caveat: Poem #2119 “Apotheosis”
ㅁ I paused to look at a tree. The gravel road smiled at me. The potholes will set you free.