A fair amount of work today, but I did take some time to watch — in the modern way, on a small screen on my laptop — part of the impeachment vote. Historic moment and all that.
If you asked me, there’s been entirely too much history made this month.
Monthly Archives: January 2021
Sink the Bismarck!
I was surprised recently to find Sink the Bismarck! on YouTube, gratis, no commercials even. Did the copyright lapse? So over the last few days I’ve been watching it as time allows. I think I rented it on VHS in Japan nearly 30 years ago, but I’m not sure; might have seen it later.
Considering that the ships are obviously models, this is a movie that’s improved — to modern eyes, used to better effects — by being on a small screen. Much of the story involves talking, and occasionally the exposition pops through (especially at the beginning), but on the whole it’s fast-moving and, in its way, suspenseful. The main actors all do well, especially the leads.
Also, it’s reasonably accurate in terms of its history, though since the movie came out in 1960, it wasn’t up to speed on the fact that British intelligence had cracked German codes, or that the men on the Bismarck scuttled her at the very end. No matter, it’s been a good diversion from the pace of work and the woes of the nation.
The Latest NP
What, another national park? Don’t we have enough? (This makes 63.)
I’m referring to New River Gorge National Park and Reserve in West Virginia, which sounds like a fine place to visit, including the bridge. But does it need to be a national park? Wasn’t national river good enough?
The new designation was tucked away in the latest omnibus federal budget, a document probably as sprawling and wild as some of the larger national parks. Maybe there’s also something there about a new park on the Moon, though I expect that would go against the Outer Space Treaty of 1967. Then again, could be that the treaty is silent on that question.
The Devolution of Our 2020 Christmas Tree
Today was the last day for the Christmas tree. As usual, it’s been nice having it around, but its time had come.
Before long, I’d removed the ornaments. No one volunteered to help.
Including Eggplant. I think we bought that one at an impromptu crafts sale at an apartment building near where we lived the year Lilly was born. I expect she was there with us, strapped in a carrier.
The lord. Got him about the same time as Eggplant, though I can’t remember where. I like to think of him as one of the 10 Lords A-Leaping, resting between leaps.
Soon all the ornaments were off. Except the Star of Bethlehem. It’s always the last to go. I bought it at a garage sale years ago because it is a gold colored version of a silver star I put on our tree growing up. The exact same style.
After everything was off, I dragged the tree outside. The dog decided to investigate the mass of needles left behind in the living room. We will find needles in odd spots for months. Until next Christmas, probably.
Last stop (on our property, anyway): the curb.
That’s the tree well-illuminated by the nearby street lamp.
Flags of Insurrection
That doesn’t look too bad for January.
Been reading a lot about the insurrection today, partly because it’s my job, partly as an American citizen who ought to take an interest in the political illness gripping the nation. With any luck, in retrospect, yesterday will be the day the fever broke. But I’m not betting the mortgage money on it.
Oddly enough, Quartz published an article about the flags carried by the insurrectionists. I was inspired to look into the matter when I noticed some flags that I didn’t recognize in the many photos of the event.
Besides the modern U.S. flag, many others are recognizable, of course, such as the 13-star U.S. (Betsy Ross) flag, the Confederate battle flag, the Gadsden Flag, the U.S. Marine Corps flag and the Thin Blue Line flag.
Even odder, according to Quartz, “the flags of Canada, Cuba, Georgia, India, Israel, South Korea, and South Vietnam were spotted in the mob.” Go figure.
Some I’d never heard of: the Republic of Kekistan flag, the Three Percentage flag and the VDare/Lion Guards of Trump flag. Usually ignorance is a bad thing, but I’m glad I’ve never heard of any of those before.
Spring Valley Winter ’21
I don’t know Rep. Mike Gallagher (R.-Wis.), but I believe he had the spot-on quote for the day, which I heard on the radio this afternoon: “This is banana republic crap.”
Five months ago, the full flush of summer marked Spring Valley. Two days into the new year, the place was markedly brown and gray and white.
We had a pretty good walk anyway, especially since the paths were mostly clear of ice patches.
Snow and ice fell during the last days of December, and on New Year’s Day itself, but it was above freezing the next day, enough to melt some of the ice. Not much ice on the creek either, but I wouldn’t want to fall in.
The unpaved trails offered the crunch of snow underfoot, a sound I like.
The peony field.
The snow was wet enough to cling to most of the trees.
It sifts from Leaden Sieves —
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road —
Pratt’s Castle, Elgin
It’s becoming clear that my approach to travel — to finding things to see, anyway — has had two distinct phases. One is before I started using Google Maps, the other after I did, a phase that I expect to continue for the rest of my life.
Visiting Voyageur Landing (see yesterday) only counts as travel in the technical sense that we went to a place that isn’t home, or even in our neighborhood. Even so, it was a new destination and before we went, I scouted it on Google Maps.
Pratt’s Castle? I had to found out more about that, and I did.
“A man’s home may be his castle but when was the last time you actually saw a castle in a residential neighborhood?” says Historic Elgin. “Medieval history buff Harold S. Pratt built this imposing replica in 1937. His real home was nearby on Douglas Avenue.
“Pratt modeled the design on a castle he saw along the Rhine River while serving in World War I. This building was a private museum housing Pratt’s personal collection of medieval artifacts. The 50 foot tall tower is surrounded by a mini-moat and a working draw bridge.
“The castle is still in private ownership, although, [sic] Pratt’s collection is no longer here. So, please respect the privacy of those living here and stay on the bike path.”
More about the castle is here, but I haven’t found out much else about the fate of Pratt’s collection, probably because I haven’t bothered to contact the Elgin History Museum. Since we were planning to visit the nearby Voyageur Landing, I made a point of seeking out the castle as well. Google Maps at work, in other words.
First you go to Trout Park River’s Edge, which sure enough is at the river’s edge.
A trail leads both north and south from there, part of the lengthy Fox River Trail, formerly a railroad line (and the green line on the map above).
A ten-minute walk southward takes you to the castle.
Structure. It’s about as much of a castle as Mars Cheese Castle. Still, worth going (slightly) out of our way to see.
Voyageur Landing
Two days after Christmas, it was warm enough to visit yet another forest preserve. This time of the year, any day above freezing without patches of ice counts as good enough for a walk. Snow and ice would fall a few days later.
We went to a relatively small patch of land in Kane County, hugging the west bank of the Fox River: Voyageur Landing.
Did roving Frenchmen pass this way in centuries past? Could be. In late December 2020, not many people at all were there, just us and a dogwalker and a jogger or two.
The preserve stretches to the north of the bridge that takes I-90 across the Fox.
From there you follow the river.
Through the wintertime forest.
She found a large number of places to sniff. Not so surprising even for an old dog.
Debris Under the Tree
Another Christmas, come and gone. We opened presents in the morning that day, as usual.
Not as usual, we had a family Zoom in the afternoon. My brothers, and my nephews and their expanding families, Lilly, and Yuriko and Ann and I were all linked. A geographic diversity: Texas, New York, Washington state and Illinois. We had an enjoyable time, even if the connection was wonky occasionally.
Later in the day, our Christmas movie was The Day the Earth Stood Still. The original version, of course. I hadn’t seen it in at least 30 years, but it was as good as I remember. The movie also inspired me to look up its source story, “Farewell to the Master” by Harry Bates, originally published in Astounding in 1940. No doubt a copy of that edition is somewhere in the house in San Antonio, among my father’s sizable collection of SF. I’d never read the story before, so I found in on line. I did know about its unnerving, surprise ending, however. I heard about it from a college friend years ago.
Another New Year’s Day has gone as well, featuring ice precipitation on top of an inch of two or snow that had fallen a few days earlier. Not enough to rise to the level of an ice storm, but enough to keep us within our walls, occasionally listening to the tap-tap-tap of ice hitting the ground or roof, but mostly paying attention to electronic entertainment, or lost in a book or two, for me including American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House (Jon Meacham, 2009) that I put down this summer and which I’m finishing now, about half way through. Big things ahead: Old Hickory is going to destroy the Second Bank of the United States and go up against nullification, and win, along with a second term. He’s already set the Trail of Tears in motion.