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Archive for the ‘Other’ Category

I may have mentioned my unspoken, one-sided, possibly small-minded battle with the neighbors for “Favorite Neighborhood Bird Oasis.” For years, our backyard was the place to be, featuring sustainably under-managed undergrowth, a giant tube feeder full of black oil sunflower seeds, a bird bath with water three times a day in summer, and a heated bath in winter. What more could a bird want?

What the neighbors now have, apparently. Feeders that are easier for squirrels and larger birds to break into, a bird bath with a powered fountain, and oh yes, even more feeders (I think they have about a dozen).

So I’m out numbered and outgunned, but not giving up. I’m plotting next steps, including a new feeder with nyjer seed for the finches and more bird-friendly spring plantings.

The bad news is that I’ll probably still lose because I also don’t want to be out there twice a day refilling feeders decimated by all of squirreldom.

The good news? This all spells a net gain for the local wildlife, no matter what.

So, win win. That’s the kind of fight I like. 

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Photo by Miikka Luotio on Unsplash

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No writing today, but I did learn a little more Affinity Photo. I spent some of the afternoon playing with images and one of the things I made was this poster with Pride and Prejudice text overlay.

Now it’s time for pizza (which does not intimidate me)!

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Text by Jane Austen, Photo by Edu Lauton on Unsplash

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Tuesday, you slay me. My mother has tried to elevate my spirits by reminding me of all the nice things in the world, like sunshine and rainbows and unicorns.

She has a point.

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Photo by Stephen Leonardi on Unsplash

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Our days are brighter, the nights are shorter, and Mr. Man’s orange tree is blooming. It smells divine.

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On the off-chance that you find yourself reading a book (like Tolkien) and are stumped by some of the more archaic measurements, this list may be of some use:

  • furlong: 22 yards
  • league: 2.4 to 4.6 miles
  • fathom: 6 feet
  • coomb: (from combe) a deep, narrow valley
  • ell: 45 inches 

Bonus marginally-related factoid, for Jim Butcher fans:

  • rill: a very small brook or a personified force of nature from an alternate world

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Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash

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I ran across this bit of text and don’t remember its origins. I *think* I wrote it as a summary after watching one of Carol Dweck’s TED talks on learning and the growth mindset, but I can’t be sure (apologies if I missed the author). Still seems like good advice.

A motivation problem is solved by thinking (convincing yourself that something is important). A follow-through problem is solved by not thinking (don’t deliberate, just act).

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Photo by Ravi Roshan on Unsplash

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This morning, we discovered an army of teeny tiny ants making a foray under the mudroom door, and thus commenced a battle for the ages!

/ahem

They are winning.*

I took a break from the fun that is that to learn another way to make a painted sketch in Affinity Photo. It’s a good technique but my mouse-based brushwork could use a bit of practice:)

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Original Photo by Zane Lee on Unsplash

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* No worries, I am consoling myself with brownies.

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I want to test an embedded table, so I thought I would give you all a peek at the sign-in sheet from our latest Home Owner’s Association meeting.

What’s that, you say I am not actually in an HOA and these people can’t exist anyway?

Au contraire, mes amis!

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My embed code is mysteriously not working, so until it does, have a screenshot.

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Photo by Jean van der Meulen on Pexels.com

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You know how one day you can look up and something that made sense yesterday no longer does? Or a collection of disparate facts coalesces into a unitary whole? Or perhaps you walk into a room that has looked essentially the same for years and suddenly, something pops out at you? 

That happened to me this morning.

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This is my dragon:

Sir Dragon (not sure about the origin of the “Sir” but maybe he ate a knight once?)

He is wood and paint and gilt animated by magic. I found him years ago, on Bali, brought him home in a shipping container via the Port of Boston, and we have been together ever since.

He has yet to tell me his given name.

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Originally designed to hang from a ceiling hook, for years he has made a comfortable aerie at the top of my largest bookcase. He presides over a stack of treasure that includes copies of The Expanse, Butcher’s Codex Alera, a first edition of Following the Equator by Mark Twain, a set of Lord of the Rings letter openers, one of many copies of Lord of the Rings, a hand-woven coin purse from Peru, a black cat carved in peat, a sand dollar that reminds me of my grandfather, a set of magnetic train cars, and other treasures.

He looked like this:

ho hum

I walked into the room and looked up, seeing the usual painted wood and wings. The epiphany occurred when I realized that I’d spent the past who knows how many years staring at the blank underside of the dragon’s wings.

Why not flip them around?

too right, Sir Dragon!

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It only took two minutes to rearrange my view on dragons.

Today, I took that idea and upended a work-related problem I’m tackling. What, I wondered, if I flipped the question on its axis and came at it from another angle?

And suddenly a whole new path appeared.

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Next time I’m stuck on a problem in work or writing, I’ll try turning it upside down and/or backwards.*

Thanks, whatever your name is!

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* Have I mentioned that I used to write that way? I began my academic career (a.k.a. kindergarten) an ambidextrous upside-down and backwards adventurer. No longer, but it’s still fun to remember.

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There is a secret world coming to life in my back yard, goldfinches, dandelions, chickadees, red maple, cardinals, crows, robins, roses, insects, earthworms, that unidentified bush the bees love, and yesterday, the first butterfly.

At once common and precious, my spring smells of freshly-turned soil and violets.

Violets get their scent from ionone. It’s an extremely sweet scent that many people describe as also being dry. “Powdery” is the word that’s usually used. Another word is “ethereal,” or “ephemeral.” After stimulating scent receptors, ionone binds to them and temporarily shuts them off completely. This substance cannot be smelled for more than a few moments at a time. After that, people go anosmic to it. Then, after a few breaths, the scent pops up again. 

— How Violets Steal Your Sense of Smell

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violets in grass
Photo by Darius Cotoi on Unsplash

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