This tree (one out yonder across the water, I reckon) saw the sun and drifting heavy gray clouds, while Art and I stopped at the VFW post in town, a Thursday ritual (photo from VFW post parking lot, a parking lot shared with a container shipping transshipment company).
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 1hr]
ㅁ This haiku's not one. It starts out with the right shape, but then it kind of just rambles off in some kind of vague narrative.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree took a final bow (one at center left).
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; retailing, 7hr]
ㅁ The following day, the white powder doubled down, insulating all.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree observed that winter had returned, after a strange month-and-half long hiatus (we had average daily temps in the 50’s F for most of the past 40 days).
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 8hr]
ㅁ So, in the morning, snow had taken possession of all the forest.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree witnessed ice on the beach. This happens when we have below-freezing, windy nights, with a high-tide in the middle of the night. The fresh river water freezes on top of the sea water, then the sea retreats leaving the ice on the beach.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ Some snow might come and make things white, and smooth out nature's lines. But then the rain will follow that, and slushify those pines.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
This tree experienced some rain turning to snow this morning.
Arthur has told me he no longer likes making chicken chile verde (a sort of family traditional dish that he always did really well). I think the last few times it hasn’t gone well – forgetting ingredients, lose track of where he is in the process… somehow these difficulties actually gained traction in his memories. And so… I made an effort at making the stuff. I’m not sure I follow the exact same recipe – I lived in Mexico too long and my take is maybe a little less ‘a la gringa.’ But I think it came out alright.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km;]
ㅁ In the dream: old walls... tumbled, fell, self-destructed... and nothing was left.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree was alongside the old logging road that goes up over the back of Sunnahae mountain.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km; retailing, 4hr]
ㅁ No one comes along. I celebrate solitude. No person stops by.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree has no doubt appeared before. This is perhaps a very common view on this here daily tree feature – because it’s what I see when I step out of the house and walk up the driveway to the expressway. This is the Port Saint Nicholas Expressway, as I like to call it.
I had a somewhat disconcerting experience with Arthur when we stopped at the bank yesterday, while running our Thursday “shopping day” errands.
I pulled into the parking lot at the Wells Fargo bank in town, and said “Both you and I need to go to the bank.” Arthur asked what he needed to do at the bank, and I said we’d discussed that he needed to withdraw some cash – his cash reserve in his wallet was running low. Then Arthur said, as confident as could be, “Why are were here. This isn’t my bank.”
Bear in mind, this Wells Fargo branch is the same as it ever was. I have a vivid memory of walking into this bank, in 1998, with Arthur, when he opened this account. So his bald assertion that this wasn’t his bank struck me as quite… disturbing. So far most of his memory failures and lapses are related to things that just aren’t salient (new or old), and I can’t quite figure how the local bank he’s been using for 25+ years isn’t salient. So this was a new type of problem.
The fact that he didn’t think it was his bank threw him off, and when we went inside, he couldn’t for his life figure out how to ask for what he wanted – and the teller was one of the frequently replaced sorts the bank in town struggles with – barely competent and probably only employed because no one more qualified can be found.
Once he was on the spot and couldn’t put together what he needed, and I had to step in, Arthur became embarrassed. His standard reaction to that is to get angry. When we got to the car he was combative and incoherent. He asked what we had to do next and I said grocery shopping and he said “whatever” in his exasperated way when he feels I’m being overly controlling.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km; retailing, 1hr]
ㅁ I saw six ravens, congregating in a tree, having discussions.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree noticed the beginnings of a roof.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 2hr]
ㅁ Today's "Don't Do List": Don't compose pointless haiku. Don't stare at your screen.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree stood aside as the north wall was added.
[daily log: walking, 5.5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ With some momentum, I can manage to get through, but the day is long.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree bore silent testimony to the completion of framing for the south wall of the little house thingy on Lot 73.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ Awake, four-thirty. I witness the setting moon: light off the water.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture near my home in Goyang City, South Korea, in February, 2016. I was walking along the edge of Jeongbalsan park to go to an appointment at the beloved cancer hospital.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ The world was unreal. Perceptions arose from minds, wholly untethered.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree experienced springlike weather in February. It is a deception.
[daily log: walking, 1km;]
ㅁ Kiamon couldn't forgive herself, then. Warm, springlike weather was rampant, again. She'd been upset at a stranger's request; Lurking anxiety'd made her quite stressed.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. One of a series of chronologically random quatrains about the protagonist of a novel I never make much progress on.
This tree bore witness to the raising of the eastern wall to the shed project. This was all Brandt’s work.
I was pretty lazy today. There was some work on the map servers that I tried to do, but even that didn’t really progress as hoped.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]
ㅁ With fragments of time I can sketch out a full day like a vague collage.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree got to watch as neighbor Brandt and I (mostly Brandt) installed the framing for west wall of my shed project over on Lot 73.
After working in the morning, Brandt needed some help lifting that assembled frame of 2 x 6’s – it was quite heavy. We ended up using a come-along.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 4hr]
ㅁ Three months in shadow. But then the sun clears the ridge... photons find the earth.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree is the tallest tree on lot 73. This time, each year, if the sky isn’t overcast, it meets the sun again after our 3 months exile in the mountain’s shadow.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 1hr]
ㅁ If you please, some words? Can you summarize your day? Nah, nothing much new.
– a pseudo-haiku.
This tree observed passing traffic during the morning rush hour.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
ㅁ No. We can't. It's too hard. Impossible. Unreasonable. So don't even ask us. On the other hand, there's this. It's a fine product, with AI. We burned a lot of coal making it.
– a reverse nonnet.
This tree was frosty, just like all the others.
A woman came into the gift store this morning, looking for a Valantine’s Day card. Unfortunately, we had some issues with our card supplier, and we don’t have any Valentine’s Day cards this year. She was disappointed, of course. She moped about the store looking at some of the other stuff we have. But then she brightened. “I suppose I could use a sympathy card, instead,” she announced.
She did not, in fact, buy a sympathy card for her Valentine. I think it was a joke. But it was well executed and I was laughing about it all day.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
