ㅁ a woman stopped by and drowned herself in the sea each day near sunset
– a pseudo-haiku. To be clear, this is fiction – as some portion of my poetry always is.
Month: July 2023
Caveat: Tree #1632 “Plumbing my limitations”
This tree was out behind my shed-greenhouse thingy.
I made a lot of progress the last few days. I finally took on the giant plumbing project that I’ve been procrastinating on. We had problems with the water-intake into the house freezing the last few winters during cold spells. The “heat-tape” Arthur had wrapped the inlet pipe in 20 years ago seemed to have failed, and last summer there were of course the issues with the main house filters (including UV-lamp sterilization, given the water is just runoff from our hillside). So I took everything apart, dug everything up, and re-plumbed things.
I still need to apply new heat-tape and winterize things, but the basics are in place and the set-up is more logical now. Here are the pipes at the point where they enter the house (on the west side of the boathouse, below the main house, straddling the electrical conduit, also visible). I will now have to bury it all.
And here is the new filter set up, directly behind the previous picture, inside on the wall of the boathouse. I will want to build a little insulated enclosure since the north end of the boathouse still gets below freezing sometimes in winter, it’s not well heated or insulated.
[daily log: walking, 5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2538 “New denizens”
ㅁ cat and dog came along with the neighbors they kind of just do their own thing nearby
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Tree #1631 “Befogged”
This tree beheld a distant bank of fog up against Sunnahae mountain.
[daily log: walking, 5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2537 “Hijinks”
ㅁ There have been eagles loitering around, lately, up to their hijinks.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1630 “Eagle waits for the bus”
This tree had to take a back seat to a grandstanding bald eagle standing by the side of the road looking for a ride to town (or so it seemed).
I had to drive to town twice today. I’m trying to solve plumbing problems and needed to get supplies, and didn’t plan well what I needed. So I made two trips to the hardware store in town, where I spent money on plumbing fittings.
I’m finally working on solving the long-standing “pipes freezing in winter” problem we’ve seen sporadically the past two winters. The water intake for the whole house is exposed to the air where it enters the boatshed (the basement of the house). So when temperatures are sub-zero, the water will freeze and the house loses water. Interim solutions have involved running a hose (through snow drifts) from the well to the house, and also running a giant kerosene heater outdoors in the area where the pipe enters the house. A long-term solution requires digging up the pipe a bit, changing its configuration so it won’t freeze in the winter.
[daily log: walking, 5.5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2536 “Water supply”
ㅁ The pipes required work. This plumbing is a constant, here in Alaska.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1629 “Beside the sunset”
This tree was adjacent to a greenhouse illuminated by a sunset.
[daily log: walking, 6km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Unguarded
At least paywalls are honest. Those “register to view” websites are creepy: you’re ceding “tracking rights.”
I’ve been a frequent reader of the Guardian website for several decades. I liked the way they settled into a “donate if you can” model, a la Wikipedia. I donated a few times over the years.
Recently they’ve introduced one of those “register to view” requirements. The Grauniad just lost a reader.
Caveat: Poem #2535 “A muddle”
ㅁ dreamed my brain was broken from overuse tried using pillows and some stacks of old books held my head a certain way to replicate the same function but alas everything was vague
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1628 “The bridge at 5-mile”
This tree was just off the side of the bridge at 5-mile.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2534 “The big city, population 4”
ㅁ Since the fire in 19, we've been here without any neighbors: just birds. Now people inhabited the next lot to the east. They talk and do things, make lots of noise; suddenly: city life.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1627 “한국의 봄”
#Photography #Korea
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture in April, 2013, along my walk from my apartment to where I worked, in the Ilsan district in Goyang City (경기도 고양시 일산서구).
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: The reader became the book
The House Was Quiet and The World Was Calm The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book; and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book. The house was quiet and the world was calm. The words were spoken as if there was no book, Except that the reader leaned above the page, Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom The summer night is like a perfection of thought. The house was quiet because it had to be. The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind: The access of perfection to the page. And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world, In which there is no other meaning, itself Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself Is the reader leaning late and reading there. - Wallace Stevens (American poet, 1879-1955)
Caveat: Poem #2533 “Pre-butlerian ballad”
ㅁ Machines were made of words and stuff, they seemed to learn to think; and over time they seemed to rule, and human fate would sink.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Tree #1626 “Over water”
This tree was reflected, greenly.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2532 “Don’t forget the environmental impact report”
ㅁ The map was made first. Then the world was created. Gotta have a plan.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1625 “The fireweed blooms”
This tree hung in the background while a fireweed plant bloomed [correction below].
[UPDATE: My friend and blog-reader, Pam, has corrected me: this plant is a foxglove, not fireweed. I should know this… but I didn’t.]
[daily log: walking, 4km; dogwalking, 2km]
Caveat: Arbaronga
[This is a cross-post from my other blog.]
My low-effort brag-post for this week is a pre-colonial hilltop fortress city called Arbaronga, in the country called Ardesfera. In the “present day” (modern era) this is not far from the center of the vast metropolis of Villa Constitución, which is the capital and largest city of Ardesfera. The fortress city remains as a grouping of restored ruins, a historical tourist attraction. The mapping of the city currently on the map, seen here, is a snapshot at around 1450, before the Ulethan colonists from Ingerland and Castellan showed up. The fortress area at the hilltop is mostly complete, but I haven’t mapped much of the surrounding area, meant to be covered in intensive agriculture. In the modern era, this is all city.
This neighborhood is found on the opengeofiction map here: https://opengeofiction.net/#map=15/-24.3398/123.7518&layers=V
Caveat: Poem #2531 “Making do”
ㅁ cut off from convenience from civilization from banal madness -- here on this island
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1624 “Three eagles”
This tree (the one on the left) had 3 eagles in it (sorry it’s a low-quality photo).
[daily log: walking, 5.5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2530 “Progress”
ㅁ A slug made quick progress across the gravel road, but "quick" is a relative term: time passed.
– a cinquain.
Caveat: Tree #1623 “Some elderly alders”
This tree enjoyed a light breeze.
“‘I cannot remember any of the things that were on my list of things to do. I will just have to sit here and do nothing,’ said Toad.”
[daily log: walking, 5.5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2529 “Disjoint moments”
ㅁ time was all broken pieces left lying around events left unstrung
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1622 “Broken window”
This tree was unhelpful while I repaired the broken window on our door.
[daily log: walking, 6km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2528 “Arboriculture”
ㅁ Some trees suddenly give up and die. The saplings put out lots of leaves, all yearning and glowing green. And then something happens, the leaves start drooping, and shrivel up. Other trees progress fine.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1621 “The river”
This tree was spending time by the river.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 8hr]
Caveat: Poem #2527 “Pending”
ㅁ the tasks were undone and sculpted like wind-borne waves on the rocky beach
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1620 “Patches of snow”
This tree witnessed that even on July 4th there were still patches of snow on the distant peak.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]
Caveat: One Decade Cancer Free
As mentioned the other day: I’m not dead yet, as far as I can tell.
The Fourth of July was always a kind of uninteresting holiday to me, I confess, until it became my cancerversary.
These days, I feel like my health is fine, but I’m not in the best place, psychologically. I’m struggling with a lot of inertia – as if Arthur’s glacial pace of thought and decision-making has infected me and slowed me down.
Well, I’ll just wait that out.
Caveat: Poem #2526 “Progress”
ㅁ I started repairs on the worn-down boat trailer: bolts' threads rusted smooth.
– a pseudo-haiku.
#Poetry #Haiku #Senryu
Caveat: Tree #1619 “That one tree”
This tree (but only this one tree) caught a stray ray of sunshine beneath gray clouds (just that little gleam of bright green).
Unrelated:
“Do not try to solve the trolley problem—that’s impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth: There is no trolley. General Motors bought them all up and had them dumped in the ocean.” – attributed quote circulating on the internet.
[daily log: walking, 5km; dogwalking, 3km]
Caveat: Poem #2525 “Finding treasures”
ㅁ The dog had stopped to smell the ditch, she pushed her nose in deep. A bone was found of some dead beast: "Oh this, I think, I'll keep!"
– a quatrain in ballad meter.