Greetings from Assumption

Tuesday felt like a Monday, but that was fine because it started with a trio of wild turkeys walking through our cul-de-sac and we saw them two other times -- once while driving back from picking up photos at CVS and bagels at the Bagel Inn, and again while taking a walk in the late afternoon by the pond near the woods. In between I talked to Chris in WA, did some reading and did some computer stuff. 

My DS9 group watched the still-terrible-but-never-boring "Fascination" and chatted a bunch. Afterward, since I had discovered that the final season of The Way Home was on Hallmark and I hadn't realized there were already six episodes, we watched a few of those (love the music, like the scenery, appreciate all the women, ignore the sillier parts of the plot). Duck and goose babies we met at Assumption University: 

Poem for Tuesday and Fair Fowl

The County Fair 

By Edwin Carty Ranck 

Oh, let's go out to the county fair

And breathe the balmy country air,

And whittle a stick and look at the hosses,

Discuss the farmer's profit and losses.

We'll take a look at the country stock

And drink some milk from a dairy crock;

Look at the pigs and admire the chickens,

And try to forget it's hot as the dickens.

Forget there are any political rings

Just think of the butter and eggs and things;

So wash off the buggy and hitch up the mare,

And we'll all go out to the county fair.

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Tuesday felt like a Monday and involved computer work, laundry, and the like. We had nice weather -- it was supposed to get hot again, but it was overcast and cool all morning, so only in the mid-70s by the time we walked to the beach in the afternoon. My DS9 group watched "Invasive Procedures" which is not a particularly great episode but has enjoyable guest stars (John Glover!) and is well-paced for a claustrophobic bottle show. 

We ate our leftovers from Taste Of Hyderabad for dinner, which remained excellent and we still have a bit of gongura paneer biryani to finish. The Mariners game ended badly, after which we watched this week's superb mini-movie episode of Alien: Earth, and now we're watching more Miss Scarlet and the Duke, though I gather he doesn't take this job in Glasgow. Here are some of the birds we saw at the Evergreen State Fair yesterday:

Poem for Friday and Fairbanks Fowl

Passing a Truck Full of Chickens at Night on Highway Eighty 

By Jane Mead 

What struck me first was their panic.

Some were pulled by the wind from moving

to the ends of the stacked cages,

some had their heads blown through the bars—

and could not get them in again.

Some hung there like that — dead —

their own feathers blowing, clotting

in their faces. Then

I saw the one that made me slow some —

I lingered there beside her for five miles.

She had pushed her head through the space

between bars — to get a better view.

She had the look of a dog in the back

of a pickup, that eager look of a dog

who knows she's being taken along.

She craned her neck.

She looked around, watched me, then

strained to see over the car — strained

to see what happened beyond.

That is the chicken I want to be.

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I lost Friday morning to a long phone call with my friend Alice, so it was worth only getting a couple of little chores done. Then I had lunch and watched the first half of War of the Rohirrim with Kristen, so that was a good afternoon! We had rain a lot of the day, but it stopped early enough for us to take a walk, and three eagles were out -- two in the tree over our porch. 

I missed most of the day's football, but we watched this week's Silo (yay Silo 2), The Agency (which better not fridge any of the women), and most of the season premiere of The Way Home because I forgot that had to be watched in real time so we missed the beginning. I have a bunch of fall photos I never posted around Irish trip pics, so here are some poultry pics from Fairbanks Farm:

Poem for Wednesday and Countryside Artisans Animals

Rain
By Edward Thomas

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying tonight or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
If love it be towards what is perfect and
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.

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Tuesday, like Monday, mostly involved chores not worth reporting and some internet research on potential holiday gifts. We had a plumber for our annual inspection who found nothing we didn't already know (a.k.a. the first floor sink needs to be replaced), and we took a walk before the rain started in earnest though it was a gray, damp afternoon throughout. 

My Voyager group watched "In the Flesh" which I did not remember and which was actually quite good. Then Paul and I watched Amsterdam, which is more enjoyable than its reviews -- could be more tightly edited but the enormous cast gives fine performances and the sets entertaining. Here are some animals from the Countryside Artisans tour Friday:

 

Greetings from Sugarloaf

Paul only had to work half a day on Friday, so after an uneventful morning during which I went to get blood drawn for semiannual tests, we went on the Countryside Artisans winter tour around Sugarloaf Mountain. Reversing our usual order, we started at Dancing Leaf Farm, which has yarn and the sheep that produce the wool for it; then we went to Breezy Hill Farm, which also has wool products and raises sheep and alpacas, though our most substantial interactions were with the turkeys and barn cats. 

We headed to Heron's Meadow, the tea farm where we saw the LEGO trains and crafts, then Something Earthy Pottery, where we visited with goats and chickens and bought some food and dichroic glass earrings. Our last stop was Art of Fire, the studio that makes glass at the Maryland Renaissance Festival all summer, which has lots of ornaments at this time of year. After a stop at home to feed the cats, we had dinner with my parents, and now we're watching Wednesday after the first two episodes of Willow. 

 

Poem for Saturday and Breezy Hill Barnyard

Walls
By Constantine P. Cavafy
Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard

Without consideration, without pity, without shame
they have built great and high walls around me.

And now I sit here and despair.
I think of nothing else: this fate gnaws at my mind;

for I had many things to do outside.
Ah why did I not pay attention when they were building the walls.

But I never heard any noise or sound of builders.
Imperceptibly they shut me from the outside world.

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Most of my Friday was unexciting -- got some work and chores done, spotted a lot of birds and squirrels on the deck, took a walk in the afternoon and enjoyed the azaleas. We had dinner with my parents, then came home and binged the entirety of Heartstopper, which was as joyous as every single person had told me it was -- a world where high school LGBTQ kids triumph over their bullies and inner fears both, and all parents and teachers (and ostensibly public figures) are loving and supportive. 

Between this and OFMD, I would say it's been a great month for gay television, except that today the CW canceled both Batwoman (which I haven't watched this season) and Legends of Tomorrow (which I have absolutely loved, and will greatly miss) -- that's a lot of queer representation gone, and major female characters, while the out-of-ideas Flash and Superman and Lois get to stay. Hopefully Heartstopper will get a second season. Last weekend we met these residents of Breezy Hill Farm: 

Poem for Thursday and Frying Pan Farm Animals

From 'A Legend of Provence'
By Adelaide Anne Procter

In the far south, where clustering vines are hung;
Where first the old chivalric lays were sung;
Where earliest smiled that gracious child of France,
Angel and knight and fairy, called Romance,
I stood one day. The warm blue June was spread
Upon the earth; blue summer overhead,
Without a cloud to fleck its radiant glare,
Without a breath to stir its sultry air.
All still, all silent, save the sobbing rush
Of rippling waves, that lapsed in silver hush
Upon the beach; where, glittering towards the strand
The purple Mediterranean kissed the land.

All still, all peaceful; when a convent chime
Broke on the mid-day silence for a time,
Then trembling into quiet, seemed to cease,
In deeper silence and more utter peace.
So as I turned to gaze, where gleaming white,
Half hid by shadowy trees from passers' sight,
The Convent lay, one who had dwelt for long
In that fair home of ancient tale and song,
Who knew the story of each cave and hill,
And every haunting fancy lingering still
Within the land, spake thus to me, and told
The Convent's treasured Legend, quaint and old.

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Wednesday was fairly quiet here -- I was trying to sort some things that I thought would only take half an hour but ended up taking all morning, then I talked to two of my high school friends on Zoom, then we took a walk because the drizzle had stopped. I had a bunch to get done before dinner, but I got another fantastic package from Holly Sierra with one thing that I had ordered and many surprises that were magnificent -- will take photos tomorrow! 

We watched the new episode of Moon Knight, which I'm still enjoying; I still know nothing about the comics so I'm just taking it for what it is, and what it is now involves a very enjoyable performance by Oscar Isaac and references to Egyptian mythology. Then we watched the first episode of Murder in Provence, which is quite good, nicely filmed and it's nice to see Roger Allam enjoying himself! Mostly baby animals at Frying Pan Farm Park last weekend: