Remember that mishna I summarized last week, the first one of this tractate? The g'mara is still discussing it (not surprising, given its length). On today's daf the discussion turns to intercalating of years, the decision by a beit din to add a leap-month to the current year. The g'mara tells a story about a case of this and from it we learn lessons of humility:
The year can be intercalated only by a beit din appointed for that purpose. It once happened that Rabban Gamaliel had called for a court of seven to assemble early in the morning, but when he arrived he found eight people there. He asked the group: who has come without permission? Let him leave. Shmuel the Little said: I'm the extra; I didn't come to sit on the court but to learn the process. But Shmuel the Little wasn't the extra person; he spoke up to save the intruder from humiliation.
The g'mara tells another story of this kind of face-saving, this time about R. Meir. A woman came to his study hall and said: rabbi, one of you here has taken me to wife by cohabitation. R' Meir immediately arose and wrote her a get (a bill of divorce), after which every one of his disciples did likewise. And the g'mara says that he learned this from Shmuel the Little. (11a)
I slept really badly last night. You know those nights where you can't get comfortable, you're too hot with the duvet on, too cold with it off and when you do sleep you just have bizarre dreams that kept waking you up? That's the night I had.
I actually gave up on sleep somewhere around 3:45 and made myself a cup of tea. I sat in bed and read for a bit, then jumped online. I did a little bit of work on my wordpress site, joined a few fanlistings.
It's now 10am and admittedly i'm still sitting in bed. I'm thinking about taking a shower, getting dressed and walking into town. There's a few things I'd like to get and a few chores around the house I'd like to check of the list. Nothing exciting, it's a 'buy milk' and 'do laundry' type of day.
This afternoon I'm hoping to knuckle down and make a start on writing - probably my jd_ficathon fic
Arriving at the junction we parked our boat on the edge of a big sandbar and had lunch.
Of course at the sandbar we were a good five and a half miles closer to the telephone tower, improving reception to barely marginal to pretty good.
M and Donald had both seen tracks ranging from tiny birds to giant moose. After lunch Donald Tazlina and I strolled up the sandbar which seemed firmly attached to the western bank.
Here are a few of the tracks we found:
Coyote or small wolf.
Tazlina posing with cotton grass
Mr Bear got around. He certainly came down to the river and checked on the fish run. Here are his footprints in the water.
After our stroll around the sand bank M and I tried our hand at fishing. Zero luck despite the fact that we SAW at least 10 fish. On our way downstream we passed "our" fishwheel, a community fishwheel, one of four I know of on the Yentna. See my post of two years ago about my fishwheel experience. http://ranunculus.dreamwidth.org/
They have this great ferry shuttle barely more than a block from the visitor center that takes you to Fort Adams, Jamestown and Rose Island. That was my goal because it has a lighthouse you could tour and I wanted to do that. I was there so early I traveled over with the staff. I couldn’t walk the whole island because it is nesting season for island birds (mostly gulls). I had no idea it was also a fort, built during the Revolution but never used then. It was used heavily in WWI &II.
Here’s the cool thing about the island, it’s a living museum meaning you could STAY there. I would have loved to do that for a night or two. There’s some ‘fog room’ built into the cliff that I couldn’t find but I saw the downstairs rooms plus the museumy bits. What gave me true story fodder though is the that the second floor can be rented out for a week and you become a ‘keeper’ expected to chip in with the chores. I have in my head an author coming there to do that and meeting a supernatural fighting young woman of Narragansette background pulling from Native folklore. That could be fun.
I wanted badly to go into the lens room and out onto the catwalk. I got all the way up the ladder but saw you sort of have to lift yourself up and back down onto the ladder, I decided it would be unwise to attempt without help. Pouts.
From there I went down to the beach because it seemed too quick to catch the ferry again and I hadn’t seen everything so I know I have another hour. I decided to go to the back beach and be by myself. I sat on a boulder and scoured a million shells (and large bits of sparkly rock) because a) I’m a magpie b) my steampunk ball this fall is 20000 Leagues Under the Sea and I have plans for them. There were a lot of dead birds (I asked about it, the black backed gull is a predator). I wandered the barracks which you can also rent out (nope, no thanks) They had an honor system gift shop with higher priced items (really?) Got Dad (or maybe John) a shirt. I was thinking after seeing a sea glass display in the musuem that I've never found any sea glass ever. I went to the front beach and there they were about a half dozen pieces of sea glass all along the beach. Whee.
I could have gone to Fort Adams from the ferry, especially since I didn’t quite grasp how it worked. It made a weird circuit. Oh well, I got on and went for a ride because I got too hot (and was kinda bored because I can sit on a beach for 20 minutes and it feels like 20 hours). I love being on the water (too bad I get sick). I didn’t because I didn’t like being on their time table (I know I know, control freak) and gone are the days I can skip meals because of the diabetes.
It took so long to get back to port that I opted out of the cool restaurants so I went to panera which I don’t like much for lunch (pasteries are great) but they had a lobster roll and a watermelon feta salad with balsemic drizzled wheat berries that cost me an arm and a leg but it was delicious (and seriously had nearly a whole lobster on it).
I almost didn’t make the fort. My GPS freaked out, got me to the park turn off then took me into the housing plan….I found my own way there just in time. I had to run to get to the tour (or wait an hour and a half). It was fascinating. It’s a huge fort with a 6 acre parade ground and 4 million bricks in it. Sadly it was let go for decades and is in pretty crappy condition that they’re slowly trying to salvage. The French fellow who designed it made it so it would take 10,000 men to claim so it was never attacked. It had an outer wall then an outer ditch then a tenaille wall that lured attackers into a ‘weak spot’ that lead into a kill zone then the crown wall then the inner ditch them a ramp up to the pentagon walls of the actual fort with cannons shooting chain shot, grape shot and hot shot all the wall from the roof and two muskateers at each loophole. In theory cannons couldn’t make it from the sea over the wall so men would have to attack on foot. In the fort there were cannons on top and in the walls. Around each cannon were brick openings because unfired brick would turn to mostly harmless dust if a cannon DID manage to hit it (where the granite around the rest of it would chip off or shave off the cannon balls). They took us into the tunnels where the tunnel rats sat for 8-12 hours a day in utter darkness listening to hear if anyone was digging under the fort. This was a good story idea too. Doesn’t have to be this fort or even this world but a fort like it. Impenetrable and yet something is killing everyone.
I went to Thomas Tews (a real pirate here in Newport back in the day) / Storm brewery and went on a rum tasting tour. He really wanted me to do that and the beer (thanks but no). The rum and the chemistry of it, how it basically makes a tincture in the oak barrels leeching the flavors fascinates me. They use the yearly cycle of heat and cold do the work of aging the rum. It was delicious just as a sipping ‘whiskey’. I ended up buying a small (expensive) bottle. Pray for it in the luggage. I need to read up on Tews. They claim he was the fourth richest pirate. I had no idea that Newport had many distilleries for rum. Nor that it was such a port for the slave trade (unfortunately).
Dinner was at the Black Pearl (Mom insisted I had to go) which is probably the most upscale place I’m going to. I had the scallops in a mushroom bacon cream sauce that was to die for. I loved it. I could have eaten this every night. I didn’t appreciate the family next to me on the bench seat. It was Dad’s birthday and all he did was chow down his lobster and bitch about how small his beer was. Grandma was busy being a purse lipped bitch and mom was trying to control both kids neither of which HAD food and the boy kept jumping all over me. Sadly I also went into a diabetic crash and was soaked with sweat. Had to go to the ben and jerry’s before heading off for the ghost tour.
But it's after midnight. I need sleep, hope I remember the ghosts.
Donald, M and I flew out to Julie and Andy's cabin on the Yentna on July 15th returning on July 24th. Enter your cut contents here.
The round trip bush plane trip was less than a thousand dollars to fly the three of us, the dog and all our luggage and food. Our plane, an ancient, but very well taken care of De Havaland Beaver ( http://www.bush-planes.com/DeHavilland-
Andy picked us up and ferried us across the river to Driftwood.
Driftwood used to be a "lodge" catering mostly to fishermen during the salmon season. In addition to the main cabin, it has a number of outbuildings; three bedroom structures, a bath house/sauna, a shop, the fishing equipment shed, the wood shed and now the new "lodge" building. Here are two pictures, of the new lodge, one taken two years ago and one on this trip.
The new lodge is up on those tall stilts because the area regularly floods one to three feet in the winter. So the first four or five feet is to keep the lodge out of the floodplain, the rest of the room is for a bottom floor for utilities and shop/storage for lawn mowers, golf carts and snow machines!
One of my projects during our stay was to build a work table and some shop shelving to use during the next phase of building and to help clean up the tools and supplies that were scattered around the inside of the building.
Andy wanted to make part of the upstairs his “shop” until the building is complete. Below are before and after photos of upstairs.
While I was out at the new lodge I took some pictures, taking advantage of the height. The first one is of the three sleeping rooms, the second is looking back at the old main cabin and outbuildings.
Donald spent a lot of time gathering dead wood out of the surrounding woods. This helps keep things cleared out and theoretically reduces fire danger. In the end he had a huge pile to burn.
Later I'll post about our upriver adventure!
— Thinking. Maybe a little, maybe a lot.
— Planning and / or researching.
— Sending things to the beta.
— Relaxing, taking a break, etc.
— Other stuff-ing. Look at the comment.
Question for today: On a scale of 1 to 10, how disgusted do you usually get with your first draft of a longer work?
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You know what I do not have that much more to say about it. Everything goes up and down. In ten years the world economic forum will find another country to praise and not one said we’re perfect. It’s just the contrast between it.Maybe nationalism is about what's feeling good? It feels good to be “better” than someone else. Some time ago Trump hold a speech and said “look what happened in sweden last night”. The crowd could cheer and feel that no matter how bad it was, it’s not as bad as in Sweden. And then our ex-prime minister Carl Bildt could tweet: “what has Trump been smoking” and claim that the city Trump hold his speech in alone had 50 % more murders than Sweden. And we could feel good about that.
It should be mentioned that growing up that Carl Bildt was the most right wing political in Sweden, now he's policy of being pro immigrant and pro Europe might not seem that far right anymore. But that’s another story.
Court of Fives by Kate Elliott was too nerve-wracking and painful for me to read right now; I finished it, but the sequels will definitely have to wait. The race and class issues were very well-depicted, I thought, and the suspense was excellent. I am just too stressed about the world to handle this sort of thing in fiction right now.
The Furthest Station by Ben Aaronovitch was, alas, much shorter than I had hoped. Abigail was so great! I want all the Abigail stories!!!
I was happily surprised that Apprentice in Death by J.D. Robb, 43rd in the series, was much better than several of the previous volumes. There were a lot of twists and barriers to solving the mystery, capturing the perpetrators, and bringing them to justice, and remarkably little checking in with the huge recurring cast, which can become tedious. I read this partly because mysteries are comforting (justice wins!) and partly for purposes of analysis. I need to write down notes on its structure and character types and things like that.
Maybe he ate something while he was out at his doctor appointments yesterday? We only talked for about two minutes this morning between me and Cordelia getting up and him going to bed. He said he didn't know what was causing the problem, and I didn't want to keep him just to ask more questions.
Cordelia decided to stay home today in order to see her grandparents and uncle who will be arriving around 11:30 to take us to lunch. The main complication of this is that I now don't have anywhere to put the junk that I need to move out of the living room so that people can sit down. Scott's asleep in our room, and Cordelia's asleep in her room. That pretty much leaves the basement.
Scott won't join us for lunch. We decided that it made more sense for him to keep sleeping. We have our biweekly game session tonight, and he's supposed to GM. I kind of think it might be better for us to play board games, but I guess it will depend on he's doing at 7 tonight. We'll also need to stop a bit early because he needs to leave shortly after 10 in order to get to work by 10:45.
I got a lot of chores done yesterday-- Five loads of laundry; filling, running, and emptying the dishwasher; making dinner; cooking two packages of breakfast sausages; breaking down some boxes for recycling; getting the recycling and trash to the curb for pick up; changing the sheets on our bed; rearranging and dusting my bedroom bookshelves; and moving two shopping bags of books from our bedroom down to the basement plus shelving about a third of them.
Oh, and I sprayed a set of clothing for Cordelia to wear at camp. We bought some prometherin (sp?) which is a spray on tick repellent that's specifically for clothing. She's only wearing a t-shirt and long shorts plus underwear and footie socks, so it only helps a very little bit, but a little bit is better than nothing. We're not spraying her underwear or socks (footie socks don't come up past the top of the shoe). The spray bottle doesn't work very well. The only way to get anything out is to hold it sideways, and the stuff is very bad to breathe, so the spraying has to be done outside and then the clothes left hanging outside to dry for a few hours (how long depends on the humidity).
Needless to say, I was ready to sleep pretty early. I didn't end up doing so, but I should have, could have. Part of not going to bed early was that I had trouble making myself stand up to deal with getting ready to sleep.
Scott sleeping during the day really disrupts my routine because I can't really listen to music or watch anything due to noise. I dug up some earbuds, but they turned out not to work well because one gave no sound at all. We'd had them for years without ever opening the package, so either they were defective when we bought them or they deteriorated in storage. I can watch things with the sound off if there's captioning, but I like to be able to hear the dialogue, too.
I also have to be sure that I have all of the things I need out of the bedroom before Scott goes to bed. If I go in there for something, it will wake him. Tomorrow, when the cleaning lady comes, will be interesting.
I'm thinking that I might move the bags of stuff we want to get rid of to the garage. If that stuff gets stolen, well, at that point, we wouldn't have to haul it anywhere to donate it. But I kind of think that someone looking for quick cash isn't going to dig through garbage bags full of old clothing, not when there are things like the snowblower and Cordelia's bike. I'll shut the door, but Scott tends to forget, and he's the one who mostly opens the door (lawn mowing, grilling, etc.).