Complaints and Tidbits

Something is rotten in Blogger.  My latest post vanished without uploading properly.  Several others finally uploaded a day later than when I first hit the "publish" button.  When I enter text, it sometimes fails to appear on the screen until I'm almost one-fourth of the way toward the end of the line.  It's worse near the end of a writing a post than at the beginning.  Are other bloggers on this platform having similar problems?   Can anyone help me?

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I spent the day being all domestic.  My sister Linda and I baked pies together for the Kansas Mennonite Central Committee Relief Sale. We also baked bread, but not for the sale.  

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Today I saw another winter bird that is still around:  White-Crowned Sparrow.  I had noted several days ago that Harris' Sparrows and Juncoes were still here.  I saw the Harris' Sparrow today again.

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On my way to the sewing several days ago, as I was flying by Frank Schardeine's pasture, I saw two Turkey Vultures sitting companionably next to each other on the dead  limb of a small tree in the fencerow.  The sky was gray and lowering in the background.  A snapshot would have conveyed lots of moodiness--more than I actually felt in seeing it.

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We're having multiple days this week of high winds, with fire danger conditions ranging from "critical" to "catastrophic."  There's another such day on deck for tomorrow.  I'm not a fan.  The air turns gray, and it's hard to tell whether you're seeing smoke or dust.  Even the sniff test is not reliable.  I don't trust that sense very far ever since I've had Covid.

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Yesterday my niece Heidi put out a plaintive little plea on our family & friends Wordle Messenger group:  "Do I know this word?  I am struggling."

I replied with this: "Yes, you, know, this, word."

She guessed it on the next try 5/6), and added this message: "Hahaha. I love you so much.  Thank yooooou."

Next Shane posted his results: 1/6, along with this message:  "The, hints, were, not, subtle."  Granted. I wasn't nearly as congratulatory as I was the other time when he got a 1/6.  He got that one fair and square.  This one, not so much.  

The word was comma.  

I'm usually not generous with hints, but it was 30 minutes before "reveal" time (7:00 PM) when all of us post screen shots showing all our guesses, and I knew Heidi was hurrying to get herself and her little one ready to get to church at 7:15.  I didn't see any reason in the world not to help her out.  

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Hiromi's winter coat disappeared.  He has tried to retrace his steps to every place he's gone recently, to no avail.  He's going to try to buy a replacement tomorrow.  I have my doubts about whether he'll find anything, given how eager merchandisers usually are to be rid of the old season's clothes and to feature the new.  I always hated how his coat rode up in the back, so a new coat is not a bad idea, IMHO.  I didn't "disappear" it though.

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Our church is having an Easter sunrise service this year--for the first time ever.  I'm afraid that dear Willie Wagler would be scandalized.  I don't think it will disturb his heavenly rest, however. The altered schedule will mean that I will not need to teach a Sunday School class.  Sadly, I doubt that anyone will think of singing my favorite sunrise song:  "Still, Still With Thee." In my private sunrise viewing, I usually sing stanzas 1, 2, 4, and 5.

1 Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
Dawns the sweet consciousness I am with Thee.

2 Alone with Thee amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with Thee in breathless adoration,
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.

4 When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber,
Its closing eyes look up to Thee in prayer;
Sweet the repose beneath Thy wings o'ershading,

But sweeter still, to wake and find Thee there.

5 So shall it be at last, in that bright morning,
When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee;
O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning,
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee.

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Pippin Williamson made the front page of today's paper with his Sand Hills Brewery. He and his twin brother are business partners, but Jonathan lives in the Kansas City area.  I heard Pippin say (when he talked to the Master Gardeners) that every week or two they meet somewhere at a halfway point and trade products that they have made.  That way each one has more variety to offer customers and the workload is parceled out equitably.  

I remember when these boys were born into a homeschooling family who had an orchard north of Lyons.  The boys were given names of apple varieties.  When my friend Rebecca was telling me about this, she said, "I would certainly hope to be Jonathan rather than Pippin."  "Antique apple variety" lists just didn't seem to her like the best place to look for baby names, I guess. She said it as cheerfully as she usually says things, so I'm sure she was never very burdened about this.  

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I might try to reconstruct one of those lost posts tomorrow after my brain has had a chance to rid itself of the day's detritus and clutter.