Why not start blogging again? Nothing much has changed around here, except I retired last week, I bought a used 32-inch, 16-shaft, computer-assist Toika last February, there's a pandemic going on, I'm addicted to iNaturalist, and the US presidential election has yet to be decided as of not quite 24 hours after the polls have closed. So what else is new?
Actually, it's Judy's fault. She wrote a Walk with Me Wednesday blog post last week and I realized I missed blogging and bloggers. So, I'm here doing my part.
Retirement: I spent twenty years doing conservation planning for the Massachusetts Natural Heritage & Endangered Species Program, which is part of the state Division of Fisheries and Wildlife. It was a great job. We did (and do) great work. But it was time to move on.
The new-to-me Toika: She's a great loom, with way more capacity than I have in my brain right now, but today I'm pissed at her because yesterday the cord holding the front apron to the front apron rod broke as I was weaving. I had used doubled rug warp yarn to lash the two together, but this baby is capable of high tension, unlike that yarn, apparently. I girded my loins today (translation: I masked up) and ventured to the hardware store to buy nylon braided cord, but I won't actually fix things till tomorrow, because I'm like that.
Pandemic: I've been fine. I don't know anyone who's been sick, probably because everyone I know is being exceedingly careful. It's a good time to be an introvert (and a very privileged one at that).
iNaturalist: It's also a good time to enjoy hiking, although I started with iNaturalist before the pandemic. iNaturalist is a global, online community of naturalists, like Ravelry but without the drama. Observers take photos of plants, animals, fungi, whatever and post them to iNaturalist with identifications; other observers chime in to agree or correct the identification. It's getting me out and about and looking at everything, and I'm enjoying it immensely. It's making me look closely at the color changes of sweet fern,
the brilliant red of British soldier lichen,
and the simple shape of a fallen bigtooth aspen leaf.
Election: Usually, I can just bury my head in the sand. Not this time. This time I'm really worried.
Everything else: That's for next time, whenever that is. Maybe even next Wednesday. I figure that between retirement and the pandemic, I could easily slip into disengagement with the world, but I don't want to do that. Blogging is a way to engage a bit, I hope.
