Back to the Drawing Board

My taxes are submitted for a final comb-through by minds better equipped for accuracy than mine. Soon, the final cyber-submission will take place and my obligations, or lack of, will be made clear and I'll be set for another year of accumulating taxable evidence.

From the Health Desk: Marvel that my wits are still able to negotiate the myriad, astonishing, labyrinthine, greedy, gargantuan arrangements to deliver healthcare that are so complex it cannot rise to the concept of a system.

Even though I have "benefits" I still spend huge amounts of time with the administration of them taking care of myself. For example: It's taken every day or so for five weeks of phone trees; narrowly-focused phone-bankers; notes; actions; drivings; mailings; postal returns; and appointments to correct durable, medical equipment delivery mistakes made by a mega company that is rapidly gobbling up every smaller medical durable supplier in the region! Even counting R & D, it can't possibly cost $850 for four pieces of 3-D printed plastic!!! What happens to those who are not able to advocate for themselves with illnesses too great, or too weak to pick up a phone, or pain too intense, or minds too compromised to cope with advocating for their own care. I hope some immediate future brings us all a better way.

And, that Comcast adopts Wawa's business concepts. Harvard Business Review and  Wawa-Business Insider (note #5 and 6).

OK. 'nuff said. I'm climbing back out from under my bed.

There is so much to celebrate. Keoni has begun the auditions for grad school. Houston was yesterday. Ahead lies Baltimore, LA, Boston, D.C. Hmm. I think I've lost track. It was great to talk with him yesterday as he walked around Rice University.

Well, much has simmered down for me. I can turn another page, it seems.

When the usual, the mundane are back, it's time to pick up a piece of charcoal and paper and stretch visual perception and acuity. Let the work begin...

More later...

Today, is Saturday. The Tillandsia went downstairs for their weekly soak. Not in pond water, as in summer, but they get an air plant fertilizer squirt after their soak. So far, they are smiling.

From the Weather Desk: It's crazy.

Neighbor George at work snow-blowing driveways for me, our neighbor, and his own.

Bunny tracks.

Bird tracks.

Since the tracks gave way to the 1 inch+ layer of ice, the thick crust was too treacherous to navigate so I threw birdseed, bread pieces, squirrel food as far out as I could which wasn't far enough to avoid the dozens of birds and animals from cracking kernels all over the place, this time in the patio. Now the shells are stuck in the mat out there. A vigorous sweeping will take care of it and today is warming in sunshine so, shortly, I'll tend to that.

But first, I like to think of Wendy going about her zen-like morning care of her barn and field creatures. The dogs and Toby trail around after her as she moves through her daily ministrations. I captured a little of it this past week... Toby was following, too, but disappeared before I caught a snap...

No word yet on original, starter-goat Jasmine's delivery. She was due yesterday.

A PYO email forwarded to Wendy, then to me, says that Center City streets will be mostly blocked off from traffic for helicopter arrival/leaving through tomorrow while Aidan will be at Kimmel playing his cello in PYO's concert. I'll be using the train, so that looks good. More celebration!

Seth, who plays at my church and with Aidan, Keoni, and Peter, had a concert of his music one evening a week ago. Here's a snippet at the very end...

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Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Survivor

The news today was all good. Yes, there is no more cancer. Excised, gone, didn't spread. I am now a cancer survivor.

As this buzzes out there where the cybers live in the cosmic chaos of a Benevolent Universe, I know it swirls among a mix of good thoughts, care, prayers, and love directed to me that, no doubt, encouraged my T-cells in their epic struggles and guided the hands of modern medicine to give me a little more time here on Spaceship Earth. I am gratefully, humbly, thankful for all.

Vortexting in Pennsylvania

While I'm waiting for an all-clear message from some unseen laboratory--or its possible alternative message, too often diverting my attention from the business of living in the moment, there has come and gone--The Vortex. If text can be changed into a verb, so can vortex. That's what was here in full cry joining us to the rest of North Americans Vortexting the Arctic's, mighty blasts.

Was this only a week ago!?

Yes, I know this was warm in comparison to other regions, but it was our region and my feet spoke to me about it again and again.

John sent some farm pictures the late evening of the snowfall.

Frezz is happy in the snow. The short haired buddies are inside, no doubt.

This one out our Quakertown back porch  is about the same time of the evening as John's.

John sent this from their bedroom window the next morning.

This was out my bedroom window the about the same time of the morning as it turned out.

The next day the neighborhood kids gathered for the late-start bus. The snow mogul at the end of the street was commanded by a youngster lobbing snowballs at the rest of his school mates and passing cars.

In Missouri, Sandy sent over a selfie just before she went out to drag her garbage cans back from the street...

The two eyes looking at the camera are Sandy's

Just ahead of the Great North American Vortexting, Wendy sent over some pictures from the "chicks"; now grown, they were actually outside for the very first time after Wendy's carefully staged integration over several days into the older chicken flock. Her Method: Sneak a few new ones at night into the older ones' housing. Repeat, until all integrated. It seemed to work well.

Wendy reports that all of the "new" chickens are laying now.
Here's one I got of them from yesterday...

Wendy had to take measures to protect their combs during the deep freeze.

Surprise and Austin came over to the fence to say hello when I was there yesterday...

Austin was all sweet and friendly. She is 23 years old now. 

Jasmine, the original starter goat, is due to kid on the 15th, so we'll look for more goat news coming our way.

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Now we are on our third day in a row of sunshine, breaking the record for consecutive whole days of sunshine in Southeastern Pennsylvania by my count of the last three months. With it came 50-60 degree air masses to melt away the frozen ground and snow moguls. Vortexting is over.

And from another Missourian, a selfie from sister Susie right after her recent, new haircut...

Susie. Now spending her first winter in her new home.

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It was time to "get out of Dodge", to take in some new vistas. So on the spur of the moment I saddled up Subaru and headed down to Philly to look at some art. I put Subaru in the $0 on Sunday corral at Lansdale SEPTA Station and rode the $0 for seniors (every day!) train ride into the city. Pat came with me, and as we walked Philadelphia's Parkway, we saw a Free sign at the back walkway to Barnes Foundation. Yep, first Sunday of the month admission is totally free. It was full of visitors and families with gobs of happy stuff going on and wonderful art to see again. Lunch was our only outlay of cash. The Barnes restaurant is middling Philly-priced but top-notch good.

The app on my phone told part of the story...

JM. Temp soared to high 50s.

Pat.

The Thinker in front of the Rodin Museum.

Philadelphia from Barnes' entry walk.

Late that evening, Marge came home for a brief day's stay after attending the memorial for her friend's husband over at Cape May. Today she is winging her way back to Charleston as I write.

From Tucson, Paula shared one of the cacti' blooming from my collection that they fostered after I moved to the condo. I didn't have enough light for them there and the urban Javelina herd began chewing on them. So nice to see them still thriving. Thanks, Paula and Carl.