Spending solstice among the trees

After a walk at Acewood, I was off to Token Creek Park to once again help out with a bit of oak prairie restoration.

Last month the project attracted only 3 of us but this time around there were 12-15 hardy souls. As she did last time, our organizer began the proceedings by reading a poem by Mary Oliver. When she had finished, we grabbed our gear and headed down the trail.

At the work area, we split into two groups with one cutting down the dreaded buckthorn and applying herbicide to the stumps while the other cut the trees into burnable pieces and did the same for piles of felled trees from previous ventures.

As with Acewood earlier that morning, Highway 51 provided some white noise in the background but otherwise the park was peaceful. It was an absolutely lovely day with the sun bathing us in its light and warming the day up into the 20s. 

When the burn pile was ready, the purifying flames were lit. We had a big fire that kept those of us working near it quite warm.

I had first met the organizer on the bus last year and was introduced to her boyfriend last month but the rest of the crew were new to me. Very friendly folks and they all seemed to enjoy themselves out in the woods for a couple hours. 

My physical therapy/strength training is paying off as I broke one of the saws. Oops. Sorry Dane County.

Towards the end of the day our organizer read another poem by Mary Oliver. I believe it was "When I Am Among The Trees".

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.

Six of us stayed to end and chatted amongst the long shadows before dousing the coals once they had burned down most of the way.

 

 

What a fantastic way to spend the solstice! My (gloved) hands touching trees, digging in the snow; the sun on my face, the intense heat of the flames. The air was brisk but the sun illuminated our work area and brightened our moods. I found the company to be wonderful as folks were in good cheer and happy to chat with the old duffer.

 

Our organizer is off to a farm outside of Mazomanie ere long where she will spend six months clearing more buckthorn and other invasive species in exchange for room and board. She is such a kind soul with a great love for nature. Her passion for trees is infectious and her enthusiasm for insects is unique amongst the non-entomologists in my experience. Her encounters with the sublime are to be envied. I shall miss her at these outings and now I have to go through some rigamarole in order to find another group doing this same work.

 

If only every solstice were spent in the woods like this one, with good company and full of mirth.

A solstice stroll

The morning of the solstice I took a walk at Acewood Park. Despite the omnipresent din of Highway 51 hovering in the background, it was rather peaceful overall.

I found that the city had decimated a portion of the eastern side of the park with felled trees littering the ground. 

While I saw no rotten wood, I am no arborist and so there could very well be a legitimate health reason for taking the trees down. Still, it was very sad to see many a lovely tree lying in pieces on the ground.

The areas on the southern end of the park had been spared, for now, anyway, and it was a joyous stroll through that bit.

The obligatory Deakins-eque photo.

The arch was bare but it will bloom again. April will be here before you know it. 

Song of the day, 22 December 2025

I started singing this to Piper as I was doing dishes this morning.

Monday morning, Pipe sure look fine 

The Wonders of Wisconsin

You may think they are the Wisconsin River, the Dickeyville Grotto, or perhaps Copper Falls but you'd be wrong. They are, in fact, dairy products. At least at Sassy Cow.

Don't forget to brush those underfurs

While I was at MadCat today seeking out Christmas meals for my sweetpea cat, Piper**, I wandered a bit and came across the aisle with brushes. Realizing that getting her a brush was on my to-do list, I did so. And so she got a Solstice brushing while she relaxed in the evening sun.

 

 

**She got 2 cans - turkey and quail & pumpkin.

The Sheep Detectives

This looks to be a hoot! Out next spring.

R.I.P. Mick Abrahams

Mick Abahams passed a couple days ago. Ian Anderson has penned a tribute at the Jethro Tull site.

Happy Solstice!

 We are here:

I am heading out this morning to enjoy some time in the woods.

New tunes

Thanks to MadCity Music, I now have Still Moving by Justin Adams & Mauro Durante. Their show here in Madison last month at The Bur Oak was great and I'd been meaning to get an album of theirs ever since. And now I finally did so.

While there I spied a zine and grabbed the last copy - Jenny's Show by Moritz Junker. Why yes it is weird for a comic artist to interview himself in a comic strip.

My sweetpea

A bit bright for Pipe.

Later that night...

"Hello, hooman." 

 

 

My sweetie pie playing with her new toy. 

Song of the day, 19 December 2025

I am not an opera fan but there are exceptions.

Sorry Van Galder

Good news. We're getting direct flights to Boston and so no more antelucan bus rides to O'Hare for me. This shall makes things easier as I've gotten into the habit of heading out there to visit a friend and his family as well as to explore the New England. Back in October my friend and I decided to visit Salem next year. Perhaps we can do our version of The Crucible.

Song of the day, 18 December 2025

What is the difference between Norwegian meatballs and Swedish ones?

Somehow I have found myself at restaurants rather a lot this month. This is partly due to a dance card that has been more full than I could imagine until very recently. Although I am looking forward to my social life slowing down a bit so I can catch up on things, having a busy and rewarding social life is a problem I gladly take on.

When the cold settled in at the beginning of the month, a friend and I took our dinner at Fratelli's Trattoria. Not our first choice nor our second nor our third, we settled on it as our initial choices were all closed on a Monday night and Monona Drive threatened to become the Donner Pass if we didn't get food into our bellies soon. I'd been to Fratelli's once before while this would be my companion's first time.

The minestrone was tasty with a lovely tomato flavor despite missing an ingredient I've had in every previous take on the soup that has crossed my lips. Alas, I cannot recall what it was. Beans? Gah!

My salad was very tasty with the dressing adding a nice herbal accent. I.e. - no iceberg lettuce and a nice Italian dressing. I missed having freshly ground black pepper sprinkled on it straight from the mill, though.

My fellow eater had a hankering for fried calamari and it proved to be delicious. I appreciated the lemon wedges and enjoyed the bright flavor the juice added.

The pizza was mighty fine. High marks for the generous application of pepperoni and I only wished that it was been a bit more well-done. Brown that cheese! I take that back. Brown the cheese and sprinkle some herbs on there.

The oil-vinegar combo for dipping ended up being a culinary Rorschach test. What do you see?

My previous visit had been with my wife and I found that my dinner there with someone different made new and happy memories. 

I spied some ghost pepper caramels from Madison Chocolate Company at the co-op. 

While they were tempting, I was just not a big enough fan of caramel to make the purchase. Still, my curiosity remains as to just how spicy these treats are.

Last month I chronicled my venture to Stoughton and the Sons of Norway lodge there which was having their annual Christmas bake and craft sale. I bought a bag of Norwegian meatballs and they remained in my freezer for a couple two tree weeks until finally becoming dinner.

The nutmeg was just the right strength and they made for a fine, hearty meal that kept the cold at bay.

There was a fellow of Norwegian extraction at the Historical Society when I worked there. He knew many an Ole and Lena joke, lived in Stoughton, and visited family in Norway every year. One day not long after having had Swedish meatballs I approached him with a query of some import.

"So Jim, what's the difference between Norwegian meatballs and Swedish ones?"

He replied with characteristic Nordic seriousness, "Norwegian meatballs taste better."

A couple weeks back I did my duty and made sure that Ahan's tom yum soup was still delicious. 

I can assure you it was and it almost makes me stop longing for Wah Kee's soups in the winter. Almost.

Not too long ago I made my second stop at Molten Monkey for some of their fine Detroit-style pizza but I think I accidentally deleted the photos of that fine pie whose only defect was that it was missing garlic. This was my failing.

Also missing was a stop at Tipsy Cow in Sun Prairie with my stepson. There I had some delectable cheese curds and finally noticed that their burgers contain about half a cow. A multi-patty delight.

I took stepson out more recently before a stop at the supermarket so he wouldn't deplete my bank account by merely grocery shopping. We went to Fin Sushi at his request.

My salad was fine and the cucumber-avacado roll I ordered proved a fine vehicle for large doses of wasabi. The kid enjoyed the King roll and another type that was all decked out.

I do believe that I ate all of his julienned cucumber.

Last night a co-worker and I dined together to celebrate the holidays and send him off on an extended vacation. He was in the mood for pho. We made a last minute audible and so, instead of our usual meal at Saigon Noodles we ended up at Viet Town.

I revisited the spring rolls which were excellent. They still had that stick of rolled and fried rice paper wrapper which gives you a surprising crunch on your first bite. Ingenious.

I called the spring rolls with the crispy egg rolls. Here the crunch was on the outside.

Delicious.

My companion's pho:

He commended it highly saying that the broth was even more flavorful than that of Saigon Noodles.

For my part, I tried the Quang-Style Noodles. 

They were very tasty indeed. Quail eggs? I think it was chicken broth with a nice dose of turmeric plus other seasonings. It had a nice mellow taste which was soaked up by the noodles. There was much slurping at our table, I will confess.

I shall conclude with a photograph of the Westworld pizza guy at Woodman's in Sun Prairie just biding its time before springing to life and going on a rampage.

Beer is tasty, December 2025 edition

The Robin Room is a nice little place. Set in a small storefront on the 800 block of E. Johnson, I found it to be warm and comfortable when I met someone there for a couple drinks and a chinwag earlier this month. It felt as if I could turn around and see a roaring fireplace behind me yet there was only a bar there. Our little table proved to be quite cozy, the perfect setting for the intimate conversation we had. And I found it to not be overly trendy. The Surly Hell was tasty and my company was magnificent.

I heard recently that The Borough Beer Co. & Kitchen had closed. Now I see that it happened back in the summer. Black Rose Blending is also no more, it says here. This is further evidence that I am quite out of touch with the Madison craft brew scene. Neither of these businesses folding had quite the impact of, say, Ale Asylum closing its doors but, coupled with no new breweries opening (I think), demonstrates that the craft beer industry ain't what it used to be in these parts.

And now Yuengling shall be expanding their distribution to include Wisconsin next year. Hmm. I wonder how that will go. Isn't the beer market still contracting?

In addition to my inaugural visit to The Robin Room, I also stopped in at Karben4 recently where I met a friend who shared some of his homebrew with me, an old ale.

He brews it for Thanksgiving every year and has done since 2015, I believe. It's a mix of fresh beer and some from the previous year which gives it that old school English feel and taste. Ron Pattinson would no doubt approve.

And, since we were at Karben4, we sampled this year's batch of Night Call, their smoked porter.

I certainly wouldn't mind more smokiness but it is still a great brew. I also wouldn't mind if it was still brewed year-round but I'll take what I can get.

Hill Farms construction, 16 December 2025

Those new apartments are coming along.

Song of the day, 17 December 2025

Song of the day, 16 December 2025

It hurts him to think that

All at once the gates of Sleep were thrown wide open and my waking ears took in the purr of a cat anxious to break her fast. I had awoken from a dream involving my wife. Oh, and Piper too. I am unsure which part of it was the most distressing: my wife rejecting me in some way that I cannot recall or Piper joining a gang of miscreant cats that caused mayhem throughout the neighborhood. When I was told that Piper had joined the gang of felines reprobates, my dream cut to a crawl space underneath the house that the dream took place in and arrayed on the dirt were several cats with my beloved Pipey in the middle. Despite the nightmarish quality of this stress dream, as a friend called it, the morning went rather well.

Still, Wednesday proved to be something of an odd day. 

Later that afternoon I listened to a podcast in which two women talked about cleanliness vs. clutter. There was something positively eerie about one of them remarking that her apartment is rife with clutter and that it doesn't bother her one iota. It was something that could have come directly from the mouth of my my wife. Indeed, something very similar did. Probably more than once. The conversation just struck a little close to home as this very subject was a major factor in the dissolution of my marriage.

And then that night I went to my wife's favorite tavern, Mickey's. Not once but twice. Thankfully I didn't run into her. My first appearance there was to meet up with some folks for a drink before going to the cinema while the second was an after-movie nightcap. We saw Rolling Stones - At the Max.

I knew one of the people I met at Mickey's and found the rest of the folks to be splendid company. They were all music nerds of varying degrees who had all seen the Stones live and were endowed with great senses of humor. I was hoping that "Midnight Rambler" was in the film and even sang to one of my companions:

Well, you heard about the Madison

Bucky, it's not one of those  

The woman who drove us to the theater had a fancy, newish car. At one point we were asked what we wanted to listen to and I told Alexa or Siri or whomever lived in the dashboard that I wanted to hear "Monkey Man" by the Stones. My request was met by silence as the dang computer didn't play it at first and so I felt a bit like Dave Bowman.

I cleared my throat and a second, more authoritative try proved more fruitful as the opening tinkling of the ivories came through the speakers. It was my first successful attempt at getting a car to obey me by voice command. I felt confident that the vehicle would let me back in after the movie.

Rolling Stones - At the Max was a blast despite the glaring omission of "Midnight Rambler". There's something a bit unsettling about a giant Keith Richards strumming away before you. I thought it was a bit funny to see those guys looking like leviathans on the screen while knowing full well that Christina Aguilera was quite a bit taller than they were. Or Mick Jagger, anyway. (Thank you Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.) But what can you expect? The guys in the Stones grew up in post-war England, raised on a diet of rationed powdered eggs and potatoes.

Jagger was a bundle of energy and he ran around the enormous stage set throughout. After the show, some of my cinema companions theorized that his moves were inspired by Bowie's. The giant inflatable women that came out for "Honky Tonk Women" were hilarious. One sat with legs crossed, a huge cigarette dangling from one her ginormous hands while the other woman sat there with legs splayed open. While Jagger hoofed it from one end of the stage to the other, Richards and Wood spun and kicked and skipped around the main stage area. Bill Wyman, however, was having none of that and stood still in largely the same spot throughout.

The performance was shot in 1989/90 on the Steel Wheels tour and so many things reeked of the 1980s that I just had to laugh, not the least of which was Chuck Leavell's shirt. However, Bill Wyman wore a blue dress shirt and, um, colorful vest. Furthermore, he sported a mullet and played a Steinberger.

The giant IMAX image was marvelous and the sound fantastic. The experience was loud and the band so in your face that I nearly started clapping after the first song, "Start Me Up", had finished.

A grand time was had by all. 

Song of the day, 15 December 2025

Song of the day, 14 December 2025

Lights

This house may not have the most number of lights, but it surely takes the prize for the most number of yard figures.

The residents of that house are going to regret it when the snowmen and snowwomen come to life and go on a murderous Yuletide rampage.

I like this photo for its The Searchers vibe. 

I had dinner with my youngest stepson earlier this week and he presented me with my Christmas gift: a moon with lights inside. You can even change the color.

It is now my night light. 

There are many state parks to visit

The interior decoration of my place continues its slow pace. However, I did adorn a wall with this recently:

It's a scratch off poster of the Wisconsin state park, trails, etc. I immediately scratched off my beloved Chippewa Moraine State Recreational Area.

Honestly, going over the poster revealed that I have gone to precious few state parks, biked only one or two state trails. This means that A) I have gone to many county parks and B) there is traveling to be done!

Gordon Ranney came up in a conversation recently and then a couple days later as I was consolidating the contents of a couple boxes, I came across a PROG handbill and setlist. They now adorn a door.

Instant buy

I saw this and snagged it immediately. I suspect it will taste like the Elixir of the Gods.

Song of the day, 13 December 2025

Song of the day, 12 December 2025

 

Women are more fecund in mountainous regions

I recently finished reading The Social Contract by Jean-Jacques Rousseau. It's a required text for ILS 206 - or was, anyway, when Charles Anderson was teaching it back in the day and I am reading along as I listen to the lectures. At least here in America, I'd venture to say that The Social Contract is Rousseau's most popular work. It's a cornerstone of social contract theory and was apparently big in Japan, er, France.

It was an interesting read for its historical value, mainly. For me as an American, discourses about monarchy is something very abstract and it is very difficult for me to truly grok the sections here on the subject. I have never lived under a monarch so critiquing that form of government is just way out of my purview and feels like a purely intellectual exercise. That monarchy is bad isn't an axiom for Americans; it is true ipso facto.

Rousseau's invocation of the "general will" gave me pause. I don't recall him ever defining it to my satisfaction. It's just this magical thing for him that manifests itself and is always right and thoroughly good. Concomitant to this is his promotion of participatory democracy. When people get together in a community and hash things out, the general will materializes. Maybe in some small Swiss canton or town but teasing out the general will by finding near unanimity on anything in a country of 340,000,000 seems like a fool's errand.

One area in which I was way out of my league came when Rousseau was talking about how regions differ from one another including in the fecundity of their women. For him, mountainous regions are hotbeds of fertile women. The resources there

Poor women of the plains. One of the most famous and most influential political theorists of the West talks smack about them in his most influential work.

The Grain That Could Help Save Agriculture in the West

That is the name of an article in a recent issue of The Progressive and it is about my favorite grain, rye.

In Southern Colorado’s San Luis Valley, where farmers track rainfall and snowpack like stock prices, alfalfa and potatoes bring in the highest profits. But those crops strain the alpine desert valley’s limited water supply. Rye, by contrast, requires far less water—and it’s hardy, resilient, flavorful, and versatile, for good measure. 

But there’s one major problem: Almost no one is buying it.

“People think rye tastes like molasses and caraway because that’s how they’ve had it in rye bread,” Jason says. “But that’s not the grain. Rye on its own is sweet, a little nutty, super complex.” Still, its unsung merits have yet to translate into a profit for those who grow it in the valley. 

I did not know that rye used less water than many other crops. No wonder it is able to absorb so much. Well, dear farmers, please know that your crop is most welcome here. Please send it to me at ##### ****** Strasse, Madison, WI, 537##. I will personally distribute it to the brewers and bakers of Madison.

Resilience in Dark Times, a podcast

A friend of my brother's, who is a marriage counselor, Michael Glavin, has started a podcast called Resilience in Dark Times.

The overarching theme is to find ways of being, to find routines that foster resilience to get through tough times. Although I have not listened to many episodes, I have enjoyed what I have heard so far with my favorite being the episode about spending time disconnected from smartphones and the internet.

Getting my mufawaar fix

While down in lovely Lombard, Illinois last week I stopped in at the Qamaria Coffee Co. outpost there and got a mufawaar for a little pick me up. It's luscious blend of coffee, cream, and cardamom warmed me up and sent my taste buds a-flutter. Now that I am attending Chicago TARDIS alone, I am making new traditions for my annual trip and this is one of them.

As I was sipping the wonderful drink, I thought to myself that Madison needs a Yemeni coffeehouse. My desire proved to be a premonition as I read just 2 days later that Madison, in fact, had a Yemeni coffeehouse. Indeed it was an outpost of Qamaria.

Now, a new location has opened in Madison. The cafe is well-lit but not overly bright, has music playing — though not too loud. In the air is a sweet and spiced aroma. In short, it’s cozy. 

“It honestly brings a feeling of family and community,” Alhurani said. “The whole Arabic culture and the Middle Eastern culture is all about this warm feeling and energy you get from the people around you.” 

My wife and I had a tradition of having our first Chicago TARDIS meal at Portillo's but, after they set up shop here in Madison, that changed. Now that we have a Qamaria here, I might have to try out Matari Coffee next year. 

When I need to get my mufawaar fix and am on the west side, I have somewhere to satisfy it. But, if I am at home, I am good, for now as I brought some medium roast home with me.