This tree saw the hustle and bustle in downtown Rockpit.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 7hr]
Month: February 2023
Caveat: Poem #2401 “On the sun’s changing angle of incidence”
ㅁ There was a square of sunlight showing, cast on the floor like detritus, unwanted and forgotten, by an absent-minded and profligate sun - gone these past months, now returned: winter's end.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1493 “An excavation”
This tree oversaw the excavation of the car from a bunch of snow.
[daily log: walking, 2km;]
Caveat: 소같이 일하고 쥐같이 먹는다
I found this aphorism in my book of Korean aphorisms.
소같이 일하고 쥐같이 먹는다
so.gat.i il.ha.go jui.gat.i meok.neun.da
bovine-like-SUBJ work-CONJ mouse-like-SUBJ eat-PRES
Work like an ox and eat like a mouse.
This is how you get ahead: work hard but don’t spend. Makes sense.
Caveat: Poem #2400 “Hard-wrought decisions”
ㅁ Light comes. I'll get one more - cup of coffee, that is. I generally do three cups, I think.
– a cinquain. It’s awfully quotidian for such a numerologically significant poem.
Caveat: Tree #1492 “Still life”
This tree was by the pond and covered in ice and snow.
[daily log: walking, 5km; dogwalking, 3.5km; snowshoveling, 1.5hr]
Caveat: Poem #2399 “Living life to the fullest”
ㅁ Dog walks. She stops, eats grass. She vomits, looks annoyed. Then Dog eats vomit, satisfied. Great life!
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1491 “Facing the sea”
This tree was in our neighbors’ front yard, facing the sea.
[daily log: walking, 3km; dogwalking, 3km; snowshoveling, 1hr]
Caveat: Poem #2398 “As snow will do”
ㅁ Snow fell. It fell slowly. It fell like dull drizzle. It fell onto stones, trees and sea. Whiteness.
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1490 “A shift in the weather”
This tree is the same tree as yesterday’s tree, but the weather changed.
I had an eye doctor appointment this morning, so I drove in the snow to town and back.
[daily log: walking, 5km;]
Caveat: Conagher Rail Car Company
[This is a cross-post from my other blog]
My low-effort brag post for the week is the Conagher Rail Car Company, in southwest Ohunkagan. Remember that the city of Ohunkagan, as currently mapped, is stuck sometime in the late 1910’s. So this is the height of the railroad industry and this rail car company plant is conceptually modeled on something like the old Pullman Rail Car company in south Chicago, maybe. I used old maps of the Pullman factory as a guide for laying out this factory.
Here is a link to the slippy map on OpenGeofiction: https://opengeofiction.net/#map=17/-42.40661/145.99363&layers=B
Caveat: Poem #2397 “The shadowed earth mocks the sun”
ㅁ The sun attempted reaching down to touch a tree nearby. It stretched its arms to feel its strength... the ground ignored its try.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Tree #1489 “The local gloom is an objective fact”
This tree was touched by the morning sun at around 8 this morning.
That’s the tallest tree on lot 73. It means that the sun is only a few days or a week away from touching the ground there, as the sun’s angle in the sky steadily increases with the approaching equinox. Because of our position on the north side of a steep mountain, for 13 weeks each year the sun is too low in the sky to reach us – we live in perpetual shadow. That’s one reason why ice persists so effectively on the road. Because of this shadow, the south side of Port Saint Nick (the environs of the vast metropolis of Rockpit, Alaska) is a fundamentally gloomier place than the sunny north side – that’s an objective fact!
Well the gloom is just about over. Which doesn’t mean an end to winter weather: we’re forecast a snowstorm this coming weekend.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2396 “Gossip”
ㅁ this guy came in the store he just wanted to talk that's life in a small town i guess oh well.
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1488 “Obscurity”
This tree obscured part of the view of a mountain.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2395 “The sun’s chilling gaze”
ㅁ It cleared. And then temps dropped. This is what happens here. Clouds are warmer than the sun's gaze. Exposed.
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1487 “Deep in the southeast Alaskan slushforest”
This tree was feeling white at the top of ten-mile hill.
Yesterday our telephone landline and DSL stopped working. It was puzzling and distressing because its shutdown was correlated with a moment when I was vacuuming the living room and had moved a piece of furniture, where the telephone happens to be plugged in. So at first I thought the failure of the phone was somehow related to my having accidentally unplugged it or something like that. But after a lot of troubleshooting and trial and error, it seems the whole telephone line (including internet DSL) is dead.
I called APT (Alaska Power and Telephone) but all I got was a machine. I left a message. Maybe because it was presidents day yesterday?
But then this morning I decided to mess around more with the wires involved. Specifically, I switched out the wire connecting the DSL router to the wall – it’s probably 15 or 20 years old, after all. And it had a kind of janky-looking connector on one end. Somehow, my brain works better in the morning than it had been working yesterday afternoon, and I got the right combination and suddenly our phone service was working again. So it was something I’d knocked loose after all – just needed the right things plugged into the right places.
That’s the main adventure here. A bunch of snow yesterday but then rain on top of that, and it all melted again. Just that continuous precipitation with temperatures in the mid 30’s, which seems pretty typical. Not a “rainforest” but rather a “slushforest” really.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2394 “Because of the wind”
ㅁ still dark it's windy out tree branches whoosh and swing there's a sense of isolation what next?
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1486 “Standing still”
This tree stood still as snow advanced down the mountain.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 3.5km]
Caveat: Poem #2393 “The drought that didn’t happen”
ㅁ It stopped. A few hours passed. The rainless sky was gray. But then the slow drizzle returned. Drought dodged!
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1485 “Substantial rain”
This tree experienced substantial rain. It’s used to it.
[daily log: walking, 2km;]
Caveat: Poem #2392 “The new arrivals”
ㅁ the robots came and set up shop, they told their stories too. the people asked them questions then... got answers, sometimes true
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Tree #1484 “On being”
This tree has been and continues to be along the road around 8.2 mile.
[daily log: walking, 3km; dogwalking, 4.5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2391 “Young trees in little pots”
ㅁ I bought some trees by internet. They got here just last week. I put them in some little pots. I watch the pots: they leak.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Tree #1483 “Some snow”
This tree was being snowed on, the other day. This was the view as I walked out the door.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; dogwalking, 2km]
Caveat: White Earth Agency
[This is a cross-post from my other blog]
My low-effort brag post for the week is something I uploaded just this very moment – some detail (buildings, streets, a few schools/churches/businesses) for the town of White Earth Agency, a rural county seat in southern Makaska, but also the “capital” of the Federated Tribes, a fictional kind of “league of native reservations” that helps empower the native peoples of Makaska and neighboring Ooayatais Province, coordinating social services, advocacy and similar.
Here is a link to the slippy map on OpenGeofiction: https://opengeofiction.net/#map=15/-43.3101/145.3347&layers=B
Caveat: Poem #2390 “Signs and omens”
ㅁ the sun came out briefly its bright reappearance left us all at a loss of words strange light
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1482 “A late winter’s morning”
This tree was along a snowy road.
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 5km]
Caveat: Poem #2389 “An annihilation”
ㅁ perish my destiny remove possible dreams perish all my contemplations shut down
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1481 “Slushfest”
This tree began the day amid heavy falling snow in downtown Rockpit.
Later the snow turned to heavy rain and by the time I left to go to work it was just a messy slushfest. When I got home, I saw on our rain gauge that we got over 2 inches of rain today. Definitely a precipitous event.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2388 “A hypothetical language with only adjectives”
ㅁ described adjectival nice, understandable derivative, smooth, poetic simple
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1480 “Just a sprinkling”
This tree and others on lot 73 received a sprinkling of snow.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2387 “Weather change”
ㅁ Colder. Crusts of dull snow. Glimpses of a clear sky. Clouds rendered in grays, pinks and golds. Sunset.
– a cinquain.