Sunday, January 18th, 2026 06:06 pm
Phoebe came over on Friday.  We spent several hours pulling her tye-dye tubs off the shelves in the carport and going through them. They were all jumbled up.  Phoebe sold tie-dye for a while and had lots of odds and ends that needed to be sorted.  Ultimately she took three large tubs of stuff away.  The rest of the stuff is pretty well organized and labeled. We were planning to do some dying that day, but decided to put it off to the morning. 
Saturday morning I dumped old dye bottles and rinsed them out. Shirts, handkerchiefs and a couple of sweatshirts went into the soda bath.  M picked out some colors and Phoebe and I began mixing powdered dye with water and urea.  Before we could actually start applying dye Dave and Kim arrived.  We had a nice, social lunch together which was just perfect. 
Then we got back to dying.  I got 2 shirts done for M before quitting.  Donald got a long sleeved shirt tied up in a mandela pattern and dyed.  Phoebe, who had more time, got four shirts and one sweatshirt done. 
Today we washed out yesterday's shirts and I did 5 more.  Hope we like them!  Donald's shirt came out great. Pics tomorrow.
My obstacle day for next month is filling up already, which is very encouraging.
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 11:00 pm

Posted by Samuel Pepys

(Lord’s day). Up, and after the barber had done, and I had spoke with Mr. Smith (whom I sent for on purpose to speak of Field’s business, who stands upon 250l. before he will release us, which do trouble me highly), and also Major Allen of the Victualling Office about his ship to be hired for Tangier, I went to church, and thence home to dinner alone with my wife, very pleasant, and after dinner to church again, and heard a dull, drowsy sermon, and so home and to my office, perfecting my vows again for the next year, which I have now done, and sworn to in the presence of Almighty God to observe upon the respective penalties thereto annexed, and then to Sir W. Pen’s (though much against my will, for I cannot bear him, but only to keep him from complaint to others that I do not see him) to see how he do, and find him pretty well, and ready to go abroad again.

Read the annotations

Sunday, January 18th, 2026 05:15 pm
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The Entity. Partly a blind drawing. As the sun was going down this evening it was lighting up some fluffy clouds. Watercolor first, black marker next (blind) and finished with ball point pen.
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 04:13 pm
 I'm doing better but need to rest after every ten minutes of being lightly active. This morning I got a few chores done, then slept the rest of the morning. I'm going to try to sit up and watch TV for a little while. I just took a shower and did about 15 minutes of stretching, so this is the most active I've been consistently in days. 

I opened up the trap I bought for TNR and I am not sure it's going to work. It was advertised on eBay as being for raccoons, but it's pretty flimsy. I may just shell out and buy the nice one the rescuers recommended. Even though I can rent from the place I have the TNR appointment, it's quite a drive. I like the idea of having my own. I don't know what to do with this flimsy one though. I might still use it for "trap training," where you put food in there without setting the trap, so they get used to going into it. 

I'm really glad I cancelled the 2027 cruise for financial reasons, but I also miss the feeling of having something to look forward to. So I will see what more affordable, smaller luxuries I can put on the calendar - or maybe even start planning for the Alaska trip in 2033. The easiest choice for that is Nome, but I do like planning, so I can take time figuring out how to get there and how long to stay. And that doesn't cost anything! 
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 11:46 am
A sled in the shape of a jug of windshield de-icer with ICE out of MN on it with a laser loon! 
A sled in the shape of a jug of windshield de-icer with ICE out of MN on it with a laser loon! (photo credit, Naomi Kritzer).

...I should probably try to remember to post more often, least you all think that something dire has happened to me. 

I think when I last checked in MONARCA was still up in operation and I was responding as a legal/constitutional observer. Well, as you may have gathered from the news things have gotten more chaotic here and so MONARCA was overwhelmed and is no longer functioning as a coordinated way to send people to active abductions by ICE. 

Thus, since none of the calls I responded to were anything more than ten minutes too late or false alarms, I have switched to mutual aid work. (Activists are being careful not to sully the waters if you will since ICE is also keeping tabs on the watchers. So we don't want anyone who has been actively protesting or observing to be delivering groceries to people sheltering in place/hiding out from the gestapo, lest we lead the bad guys right to their doors.) I've found a local organization that was already in the business of giving out free food, a group that I lovingly called the Food Communists, who have pivoted their efforts towards feeding people who are sheltering in place/hiding from the gestapo.

They basically have open doors for folks to drop by and help when and how they can and that's been really good for me because it means that if I start to feel anxious about the police state at any point during the day I can wander down the street and see if there something I can do to aid the resistance. So far, it's been organizing doubled-up grocery bags and breaking down cardboard, but I think that all of us in this fight (and there are a lot of us) feel like all effort is good effort if it's  helping our comrades and neighbors. 

I have also been showing up to the various protests around the city.

There is a group of Midway neighbors who have organized a daily protection/protest gathering in front of our local Somali mosque so that we can defend people while they are vulnerable and in prayer. I joined them the other day while the temperatures plummeted and the wind whipped around our faces. But, it was so warming to the soul when the imam came out and thanked us all for being there and we waved to everyone heading out from safely prayers. 

I'm in a Signal group for people who are gathering every day on a different street corner to sing songs of love, resistance, and hope. I've only been able to make one of their gatherings, but it was lovely to sing and be in community. 

Mason and I joined the student walk out at the Saint Paul capitol a few days ago and it was nice to see all the youths being just as fierce as their more grown-up counterparts. 

And then yesterday, I met [personal profile] naomikritzer at Powderhorn Park and we watched a bunch of folks crash their art sleds. 

Naomi and I out at the art sled rally
Image: Naomi (left) and me (right) out at the art sled rally. Very bundled up. There was a high of 12 F/-11 C yesterday.

Because Minnesota is like that.

And if there is one thing that I could impart to my out of state and international friends it's that, yes, everything you see on the news is 100% happening, and also? We are sledding.

Mostly, what you see on the news makes it look like the streets are full of tear gas and, yes, it's true, ICE agents are deploying tear gas, rubber bullets, real bullets, flash grenades, and smoke bombs, but people are also still going to work and walking their dogs and singing. A lot of us are doing anything we can. People are carrying whistles and charging our phones every night to get all the film possible of the atrocities we are facing at the hands of masked, domestic terrorists who are abducting people without due process. We are standing guard over daycares and mosques and restaurants and sex shops and toy stores. (Because our sex shops have become food distribution centers and our Toy Shops have been giving away free whistles.) We are showing up and baking cookies for people on patrol. We are sweeping up after the people packing bags for people too afraid to leave their houses. We are taking to the streets with signs, sometimes all alone, but we are showing our neighbors, our immigrant and refugee families, that we want them, we love them, and we will not let them be taken without a fight.

This is what resistance looks like and it is awful, but it also hopeful and kind and loving, and, yes, even sometimes we make time for fun. 
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 10:58 am
This year, I wanted to read a musician's memoir. When this book came up at the book swap, it landed with someone who did not seem that interested in it so I stole it from them.

At the time, I did not realize that this memoir was about the lead singer of the band "Against Me!"

Because Tom Gabel was only a couple of years younger than me, the musical cultural landmarks of this book felt affirming. It starts with Tom, as a child, thinking about Madonna. The juxtaposition of "Material Girl" with the politics of punk was interesting.

Tom began making music with his friends as a teenager and dropped out of high school. There was a lot of booze and many drugs involved.

Then, he wanted to get better as a musician and bigger as a band, and some of his band mates were on a different journey.

After the band made a deal for $25,000 with a very small label, the crust punks began accusing him of selling out. They would show up at his shows and flip him off for playing any new material and slashed his tires.

Despite the exhaustion of constant touring, they kept at it, and did well. You can definitely hear the production difference between "Baby, I'm an Anarchist" and "I Was a Teenage Anarchist" when the band was working with people who were professionals at mixing music.





Then, after having his first child, the gender dysphoria that Tom had been dealing with turned into an urgent need to transition. It was tough because he was living in that part of Florida that might as well be Alabama. There was a scene about a field of crosses representing aborted babies, and I took a picture of something similar to that in my hometown the last time I visited. Tom made the album "White Crosses" with the title referring to both the crosses and amphetamines.

Transition was really difficult in that type of environment, and his wife who was really into the punk aesthetic just really hated living in the backwaters of Florida.

Transition publicly and privately blew up life, the band, and the marriage; but ultimately, it leads to choosing the name Laura and coming out publicly, with more humility and with a band more aligned with her politics, and a musical audience that is more diverse than it has ever been. During the grueling tours, the band had opened for many types of bands, and those audiences added to the fans of the band.

The song "Because of the Shame" is about one of the important people in the book that was lost, and that song survived the transition.





Anyway, I recommend this book to [personal profile] threemeninaboat, [personal profile] sabotabby, and [personal profile] frandroid.
Tags:
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 04:19 pm


********


Links )
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 04:45 pm

This week's bread: a loaf of Marriages's Moulsham Strong Malted Seeded Bread Flour, v nice.

Friday night supper: the sorta-nasi goreng with Calabrian salami.

Saturday breakfast rolls: eclectic vanilla, turned out quite well, but even though I upped the amount of vanilla extract, not very vanilla-y.

Today's lunch: sweet potato gratin thing, with some quite decent tapenade, served with Dharamjit Singh's spinach.

Sunday, January 18th, 2026 04:02 pm
Naomi Kritzer has a good thread listing ideas.

Linking to the last skeet in the thread because the threading's broken otherwise:

https://bsky.app/profile/naomikritzer.bsky.social/post/3mcdamldccc23

Also here's a collection of links to local mutual aid funds, food banks, and other organizations doing work on the ground:

https://www.standwithminnesota.com/
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 09:44 am
This is a great video about making zines.

Sunday, January 18th, 2026 09:03 am
Seattle Seahawks 41 SFO 49ers 6

A good night to be a Seahawks fan. A really, really good night!!
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 01:33 pm


The snowdrops are starting to flower, I am so excited.
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 07:43 am
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I was sitting at my writing table this morning and saw my necklaces in the mirror there. Those represent me as much as my face does. They never come off. The only exceptions are when I go in for a medical procedure and they say to take off all jewelry. Then I am truly naked. Last weekend I painted my nails while Alison was here. Nail polish is a rarity. I'd do it more often, all the time really because I like the look of it, if it didn't take so long to dry. I hate not being able to DO things while it dries. I usually mess up and get it smudged. I smudged it last weekend too. I like pearl white. So far in life that's the only color I've ever liked for my nails. In this pic there is a little bird visiting the feeder outside. I waited to take the pic till one landed.

Going shopping with Jules this morning - our usual bi-weekly walmart and giant eagle shopping. Onward - I need to fill that feeder in the picture above and feed the chickens before I go.
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 12:11 pm
Happy birthday, [personal profile] pameladean!
Sunday, January 18th, 2026 10:29 am
The square gardens, very exclusive

It was really rather hard to mourn Talshaw, his sister Cretia – Lady Lucretia Grigson – thought. He had not been an amiable elder brother – somewhat of a bully and ever standing on his position as heir – and they had seen little enough of him during their childhood as he was about the education proper to his station. So he was no great loss – whereas she felt she would have been saddened had it been Grinnie or Lucie. But furthermore, being in mourning was quite the greatest bore – so many things she might not do – obliged to wear black, that did not suit her in the least –

Though she must admit, she was not missing a deal of glittering social occasions at present, since so much of Society had gone out of Town to be about election matters, so she did not have to read accounts of balls and soirées &C with pangs of envy.

But also a deal of philanthropic activity was not occurring, with such leading figures as Dumpling Dora – Lady Pockinford – gone into the country to their husbands’ estates – so there were no drawing-room meetings or fancy bazaars that only the most exceeding strict could deem unsuitable for a lady in mourning to attend. One lady remaining in Town was Rachel Demington – her husband was travelling about the country in order to address meetings upon agricultural matters connected with the election – and she was arranging working-parties to prepare for the Seamstresses’ Summer Workshops. So Cretia might go to those, and feel she was doing useful work whilst also exchanging gossip with such other ladies as remained.

One could not, of course, go ride in the Row at the fashionable hour! But Vicky Jupp had come to Cretia saying, had gone consult Lady Jane Knighton on the matter – a lady of the most exacting! – that had said she could not see any objection to riding at a quieter time o’day in one of the less-frequented parts of the Park – had done the like on Queen Maud, that Lady Bexbury had very kindly kept in her stables, during her mourning year for the late Admiral – take a groom or a chaperone –

Oh, Vicky was entirely invaluable! Here she was, went read the classics with Lady Jane, and had thought to enquire about that. Really, she did not know what she would do without Vicky. For being dragged about the Season by her sister Rina – Lady Iffling – had been a very poor guide to the ways of Society, in particular the society she now found herself among. Not Rina’s set of – one could not even call 'em friends, they were ever backbiting and scandalmongering about one another – playing at cards and getting up flirtations –

Rina had been wont to dismiss this set as bluestocking dowds but they were rather more stylish than Rina herself. The Duchess of Mulcaster might understand a deal of very strange tongues and be able to converse with savants but was ever in the crack of fashion. Mrs Geoffrey Merrett went to the college for women in Bloomsbury and was considered an entire leader of style – that, said Vicky, is my sister 'Sina, Miss Thomasine at Mamzelle Bridgette, makes Janey – they were at school together – as it were her flagship.

So interesting! Vicky knew who everybody was, and their relations with one another. She also knew what everybody was talking about, and conveyed this to Cretia so that she did not appear a ninny when these matters came up over the teacups. Advised her on what books to read – marked pieces for her in the newspapers and journals –

And such a horsewoman! Fancied it might have been Lady Bexbury’s notion that 'twould be entire in order, did Cretia take early morning rides in the Park, for Vicky to ride with her. So she took Berenice, and Vicky took Artegall, and one saw that Vicky was the most competent of equestriennes. Vicky, when Cretia commented on this, giggled a little and remarked that when she was younger had had somewhat of an ambition to be a rider at Astley’s – we were all three of us about the stables from when we could crawl –

Imagine! The elegant Miss Thomasine!

So they returned from their ride – indeed, it was much more pleasant at this time o’day rather than the fashionable hour at this season when was so horrid hot and close – and saw their mounts conveyed into the hands of the grooms, and went in to change. Vicky grinned, and said, had no doubt but that Miriam would have a fine substantial snack for 'em in the library, to sustain 'em in discoursing over the day’s business –

Cretia grinned back saying that indeed seemed quite a while since they had breakfasted!

When she was dressed in mourning-dress suited to the hour, she went into the library, and there was Vicky, the secretary rather than the horsewoman, looking at the diary and sorting through the letters on the tray, that must have been delivered while they were out.

Dutifully she opened the missive from Mr Grigson, that was at present staying with his uncle Mr Grilsinger and his mother in Lincolnshire at Carlefour Castle, that they were leasing from Lord Trembourne. Were now quite entirely in local Society, and one apprehended that there was a deal of a desire for balls and dinners at the Castle during the election! Her husband expressed his hopes that she was well, and not finding time hang too heavy – pleased to hear that her acquaintance with their neighbour Lady Rondegate continued to flourish – various news and gossip – &C&C.

Excellent well. She nibbled on a piece of bread pudding, having developed a taste for this somewhat plebian delicacy. One from Mama at Worblewood – entirely good news, Myo in quite the best of health and spirits – they were all becoming archaeologists – Grinnie fancies he may have to come to Town about business, hopes he may beg your hospitality –

A scrawl from Rina, that must be rather discontent to have Iffling back at Anclewer.

She put the letters down. Vicky looked up from the letters that were to do with various matters to do with philanthropic enterprizes –

Had a commission from Lady Bexbury –

Lady Bexbury?

– wondered had you ever attended those card-parties Lady Venchall and Mrs Bramby hold?

Cretia groaned. O, I was positively dragged to 'em by Rina – did not play myself, barely had enough pin-money to cover little needful matters – but Rina did, said it was something to relieve the tedium of the days –

So you might have the entrée?

I suppose I might, but they ever struck me as very dull – I suppose mayhap did one play rather than spectate might be different – She wrinkled her nose. O, I daresay these days I can afford it –

Vicky lifted her eyebrows and remarked that indeed, one was a little astonished that there had not been somewhat in the way of exceeding civil invitations! – young woman married to an exceeding wealthy husband – that spends a deal of time about matters of business –

Cretia snorted. Wondered why Lady Bexbury took an interest – mayhap some young friend or relative that had been lured into playing higher than she could cover?

Later that day Cretia dressing in suitable mourning walking dress – lord, she was already entire sick of black! – in order to go parade in the square gardens, very exclusive. As she had hoped, she found there Zipsie Rondegate, that had previously assured her that Dr Ferraby thought that a little pedestrian exercize, providing that there was no noxious fog and the weather fine, was quite the most salutary thing in her condition.

Here was another friendship! Most agreeable to be neighbours, and discover what an amiable creature Zipsie was, when not struck by the nervous shyness that had afflicted her while on the Marriage Market. Married to a very well-looking young husband that appeared to doat upon her – dressed in a style that entirely suited her by Mr Maurice himself – everywhere acclaimed for her music – and now to be already in this happy condition!

They kissed one another on the cheek and enquired after one another’s lawful wedded.

O, Rondegate has gone down to Wepperell Larches – makes a bachelor party of it with Sallington and Julius Roberts and Mr Davison – some notion about gardens though we suppose that the local gentry will say they have ever been thus and so, and go grumble upon all this mania for improvements.

Cretia giggled and said, la, at Carlefour Castle, they just added on some new device as each Lord Ketterwell was struck by something he saw on his Grand Tour, so there is still a quaint knot garden, but also an Italianate garden &C&C, exactly like the house.

Zipsie said gardens were all very fine and well, but must take a deal of keeping up, even did one have gardeners – much preferred having this square to walk in rather than having to contemplate over rosebushes and shrubbery &C, and fret over lawns.

And oh, to grow more serious, have lately had a letter from Granda in Heggleton, goes grumble somewhat about Ollie – for he had quite the greatest notion to a match 'twixt Ollie and Thea, would have done something handsome for 'em – but here is Ollie goes get up a flirtation with an actress – even if 'tis a young lady we knew in childhood.

Cretia exclaimed at that.

O, we did not know 'em well, even though Mr Dalrymple –

Mr Dalrymple, the old quiz?

– the very one – is one of Papa’s oldest friends. But he is not married to Miss Richardson –

– the acclaimed thespian?

– Quite – even though they live exceeding domestic with his mother and her famous pugs and their children. But they were invited to parties at Raxdell House, and we encountered 'em there – sure, Zipsie said with a wistful look, Orlando Richardson had very engaging manners – and here is his sister Rosalind Granda fears has designs on Ollie. Here we thought Ollie was pulling round after that business with the fast set he was in –

But la, I am sudden become entire ravenous! Might we go in and desire tea? I have an immense craving for your Miriam’s lemon cake.

Cretia linked her arm into Zipsie’s and said of course.

Sunday, January 18th, 2026 12:28 am
The spare the air days have been extended. At least I could see the hills today. Vaguely.
Saturday, January 17th, 2026 11:21 pm
I mentioned the other day that my cousin Don had been diagnosed with rapid onset dementia, after a fall in a bathroom and a trip to the hospital.

He died two days ago, in the hospital, with his daughters there. His son was at home, dealing with the aftereffects of a small kitchen fire (apparently some wiring fizzed and went up; they lost one cabinet but other things need repair and also the insurance man.)

I remember Don all the way back to when I was small. He and his older brother, Walt, rode their Indian motorcycles down from Ottawa to Rochester to visit my mom and meet me when I was maybe 2 years old. I remember them from then as being very tall and kind; as I grew up they continued to each be very tall and kind. In the summers as I was growing up Mom and I stayed at Don's place or Walter's place or their older sister Joan's farm for a week or two every year, so Mom could visit her wider family of sisters and nieces and nephews and grand-nieces and grand-nephews, and so I could get to know everyone.

Some of it blurs a bit -- how many back yard picnics? -- but I remember Don and his wife, Jean, taking me up to a cottage they had in Quebec once so we could go canoeing on the lake there, listen to loons calling and just glide over the beautiful clear water. I remember putting my hand in the water in a certain way and a fish just coming to rest inside it for a moment as if it were seaweed. I didn't grab on and catch it, but I could have. Later on, the two of them canoed up the St. Lawrence River for a good distance; it took them a month or more. I asked Jean what it was like, and she made a face and said it was "like walking uphill on your hands". But she did enjoy it.

All the memories are good. I do wish I could have seen him again, but I have him in my mind firmly and that will stay. And 91 years is a good run. He got to see his children married, and play with his grandchildren, and even (I think) one or two great-grandchildren. He loved listening to Irish music, any time it was available.

Hail the Traveler, Donald Hugh McKenna!