Into the Woods

After a cold winter that froze the new gardenia bush, for which I had such high hopes for someday having gardenias, a blustery spring is blowing in. Has the weather been swinging wildly everywhere?

From Scotland Ken writes, “Our magnificent sunny and warm spell has come to an end. The temperature is now dipping below freezing and there’s an arctic chill in the air, even when it’s sunny. I need to determine whether to cancel our first spring training [softball] this evening.” From southern France, Lise writes: “Here it’s storming so much so I couldn’t close the car door — had to step outside going to the other side of the door — and push HARD to get it closed.” Two days ago, I wrote to Ken: “Winter has returned here, too, though today is warm with a windy, wet squall blowing over. The wind buffeting the house kept me awake last night because of my habit of worrying about the roof.”

The birds are delirious. There seem to be more of them this year than ever, particularly bluebirds. Apparently I don’t have enough bluebird housing. A pair of bluebirds keep trying to break into the house and the car. I put up a new bluebird house for them in the sycamore tree out front, but I’m afraid they’re not going to move in. I had worried that I wasn’t seeing many rabbits this spring, but recently, at dusk, I’ve seen a rabbit eating clover near the front steps. There are coyotes in the woods, so smart rabbits will stay close to the house, which the coyotes avoid.

There seems to be a worsening of the madness abroad in the world at present, from war to petty forms of violence such as the slap at the Oscars. If I were a poet I’d type up a poem asking who has opened Pandora’s Box. I feel luckier than ever to live here in the woods, compelled to go out only for necessities. I have not posted about the American political situation recently because it seems to me that things are mostly (though slowly) moving in the right direction, toward justice, accountability, and the defense of democracy, though the media are as usual determined to keep us in a state of demoralization and anger.

I have been afflicted with a kind of mania for finding just the right typewriter on eBay, a reliable everyday typewriter in perfect working condition that does not require a Ph.D. in typewriter repair if it ever needs fixing. For that reason, I use my IBM Selectric III lightly. I greatly prefer electric typewriters because they are fast, and I’m a fast typist. I’m also partial to IBM and Adler typewriters. Adlers are German typewriters, as well made as IBMs. I believe the Adler Satellite 2001 in the photo, made around 1975, will be my everyday typewriter now, though I also have a Facit (made in Sweden) typewriter that is in like-new condition but which isn’t as fast as the Adler.

A thought for the day: Why did we older folks abandon our typewriters so quickly and thoughtlessly after computers became affordable? I am extremely guilty, and I feel a certain shame for it. I can’t even remember what became of the last of several typewriters I owned. It was a massive old Underwood office machine made in the 1950s that worked perfectly for me for years. Why didn’t I keep it? What was I thinking?

The poem below was typed with the Adler Satellite 2001.