Multi Tasking

I began this blog in a Fox Valley Technical College Course in this building in Neenah, Wisconsin. It was one of the best courses I've ever taken. By the end of that morning course, taught by Nikki Kallio, I had a blog set up and I was on my way.

But today, I am back, but taking a course on writing the historical novel which is a total waste of time. The instructor keeps talking, never involving the class. When anyone raises a hand, she snarls at the perpetrator and goes right on talking. I am learning nothing new about writing and getting no information about research, which is what I need to know before I go back to North Dakota next summer to work on a novel based on a story my Great Aunt Mabel told me.

This is wasted time, but I look at her and smile from time to time if she were imparting great wisdom, as as I write this blog entry.

It reminds me of taking classes in high school and college. I had a notebook with me at all times and while looking at the instructor with the look that indicates fascination with every word, I wrote letters to friends as if I were taking copious notes. By the end of the class, the letters were ready to insert into an envelope and mail.

Years later, my son did pretty much the same thing, sending me instant messages from his college courses. I suppose now one can hear the clicks as people tweet and text as they ignore boring professors.

The entry is finished. At least I've accomplished something this morning.

After the Snow

After two days of snow, 17.2 inches in all, I'm told, the storms are over and spring has resumed.  Over by the Methodist church there are hundreds of confused robins, looking for promised worms and finding only street pavement or banks of white stuff.  Gary sometimes puts out hamburger for them to help them through, a sort of emergency relief for the avian set, but that is getting pricey these days.  Oh well, there are robins a-plenty in this country. I see them everywhere I travel.  When I camped above the tree line in the Colorado Rockies, there were no birds except for robins on the mountaintops.

I spent two snowbound days working on the itinerary for my summer tour.  I found plenty of campgrounds wherever I plan to go but  I am choosy, looking for those with beaches on small lakes. I figured distances between towns so I could make performances on time.  I ordered a pop up cabana so I can change into dressy clothes and put on makeup in my own private loo. I began the process of finding writing outlets for travel articles.  Now I am researching better cameras so I can do a photographic essay to go with winter travelogs at Wisconsin libraries.  It isn't only the performances that make my trips profitable.

I've emerged with vigor, walking three or four miles a day.  Now is the time to take off the winter weight, to shape up for hiking season.  In another month, the spring mud will be gone and I will hit the trails, leaving Seymour's sidewalks behind.  Vitamin D rains down on me.

"Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose."

I sing the "Song of the Open Road" with Walt Whitman.  I'm ready to go.

Statistics

It takes me a while to catch on to technology.  It wasn't until this morning that I wandered into the stats part of this blog and discovered the geographical locations of those reading it.

To my surprise, I have readers in Russia, India, Indochina, Brazil, Canada, England, the Netherlands, Japan and other countries.  Some seem to be regulars.

I did know about at least one Russian, who not knowing that Colleen is a female name (it's actually Gaelic for girl),  tried to interest me in some photos of naked women.   But the rest?  I wonder who they are and why they check on me from time to time.

I've not missed a single day posting on this blog since I began it on October 17, 2010.  One time, it was only a few minutes to midnight, but I still got it in.  Now I can see that some folks actually like it.   Who knew?

Note from My 2010 journal

A year ago today Gary and I canoed on the Wolf River  from the River's Edge in Leeman to Koepke Park north of Shawano on an unseasonably warm day.  Few migrating birds were around but we saw that old janitor of the skyways, the turkey vulture, checking out the river for winter's carcasses.  Here and there, a turtle came up from the mud to see what was going on. We laid a tarp on the damp bank and sat there eating our lunch and then dozed with the warm spring sun clearing our souls. 

But on this day in 2011, we are stuck inside with a snowstorm outside.  It is a soup day, a nap day, a St. John's wort day, a dreaming about the river day. 

 

Snow Again

Snow again.  Other than a quick trip to the supermarket, Gary and I are at home for the day.  He is playing video games with an eye to being able to defeat my grandson, who is five years old, next time he comes for a visit.  I think Evan has nothing to worry about.

We are in a holding stage here.  Winter is all around us, but in two or three days, spring will be back.

Meanwhile I have been writing and napping, then napping and writing.  In a few minutes, the maps come out and I will begin the task of finding possible campsites for the summer trip.

A Trip to the Pullien Plant

By tomorrow, we'll be back into winter with another snowstorm, so on this fine sunny day it was time for a road trip.  Gary heard through friends that the pelicans had returned to Green Bay and he knew that the one place we could see them was at the Pullien Power Plant and the surrounding marina.

On the drive over, we found a flock of snow buntings swarming a field.  They, at least, knew that it was still winter here in Wisconsin and had not set off for their summer quarters in the Arctic.

But at the Pullien Plant at the point where the Fox River exits into the bay, spring birds had arrived  We indeed found the white pelicans, along with common mergansers, cormorants, and greater scaup.  At the top of the plant there's a box set up to attract the very rare peregrine falcon and sure enough, there was the female peering out as she sat on her nest.  We watched the show through binoculars and scope.

On the way home, we found a northern harrier with his hawk body and owl's face.  So far this year, I've found 38 species.  I'll do far better than most years as I explore the western states. I need to find a good bird book for those birds.  

For the next two days, we'll be here looking out at the snow, but for this day, we celebrated the coming season.

Spring, Goodbyes, and New Plans

On this first day of spring, I woke up at Sister Annie's to a rainy day.  Last night, there was no point in going back to Seymour since I would have to take Heather and Jacynth to Beaver Dam where Gloria Hayes would take over and take them to their next performance in Madison.  From there, yet another friend will take them to the Milwaukee airport to catch their plane home. 

Our original plan was to get up early to go to the Horicon Marsh to see the spring migrations, but with a downpour, the birds would be hunkering down in the reeds.  I let Heather and Jacynth sleep late.  We were all exhausted.  

So we drove in the rain and arrived exactly at noon. There was only time for quick hugs and goodbyes.  I came home alone. 

At the corner of French Road and  County Highway EE, there they were, a huge flock of tundra swans.  That is spring for me, those big white graceful visitors who are here for a week then gone. 

Now I look forward. I must find time to work on finishing up some writing projects before summer travels begin.  I must lose the five pounds I gained over the winter and lose another fifteen.  That means getting out on the newly warm days and walking three or four miles a day.  

Time to change gears.  Heather and Jacynth are gone but they left spring behind.