Battle on a Lawn

Odd episode today, on the way out of Penetang after dialysis. Stopped at a side street near main street, a pair of crows flying low over a lawn and a smallish rabbit trying to run them off. We watched for a few minutes. There was a garden near the house. Rabbit kept after them. I suspect the rabbit had babies in cover in the garden and crows wanted them. Strange sight.

week just past

ending May 23rd, Saturday

old photo of mine – a still life of tiny shells and a crayfish claw, all from our shore

Odd weather, two nights of frost, hard on the eager to get started gardeners.

My dialysis runs were mostly smooth.  A couple of days I used cane. Other days I shape shifted with my walker. I am trying to make my view of my situation more positive but still realistic. My leg ulcers jumped ahead in healing following debriding by a general surgeon on Tuesday.  Debriding is a somewhat neutral term for using a knife to cut and scrape away dead tissue from an ulcer.  Once the two ulcers are healed, my  heart surgery can proceed.

This reminds me of George Carlin‘s remark that the terms “wetland” and “rainforest” were invented by people who found it hard to raise money for swamps and jungles.

Canada geese families have been coming by to lunch on the plants on our shore.  The golden  goslings are tiny but that will change quickly.

I hope to get over to the Midland Model Train Show this weekend.

Poem: The Blue Heron Stands

The Blue Heron Stands

The blue heron stands in the shallow water.

Studying dusk, knowing

the separation of air and water

like two distrusting kingdoms.

He wills the end of all motion

and the trees obey…the clouds pause.

Only the channel marker blinks.

I stand behind glass and wall

but cannot wait long enough to see

this blue question mark ask me

how I might fly.


going thru some preliminarily sorted (how I kid) — uncovered several old handwritten, good poems.   will add them here next couple of days.

Not too hot here.  I could smell sawdust coming from next door, they’re putting in a new kitchen.

Still reading Wolf Hall, love this book. Texture of life then, texture of Cromwell’s mind.

Ulcer leg pain and peripheral neuropathy not my best friends today. Oh well. so it goes.  God bless you all.