


There are some projects that just seem to grow as you get into them.
Our kitchen remodel almost ten years ago (has it been that long?) was just such a project. We unexpectedly had to rebuild an entire part of the exterior wall when we discovered the door header stopped midway through the door. We had to build two supports in the crawlspace to deal with a sagging floor in the dining area. It just grew and grew and grew.
Our latest landscaping adventure was not such a project. I knew just how much work would be involved. I knew there would likely be no real surprises. But I also knew just how much backache-producing work it would involve. First, we had to get rid of those holly bushes. That took a good long time: hollies very aggressively cling to their perch on life, and they will resprout from the slightest bit of root left behind. So getting rid of the main holly trunks was only part of the process: E and I also spent a day digging out roots. And we didn’t even get them all. Several large roots went so deep into the ground that we knew we could never get them out, so we made fresh cuts, drilled holes into them, and slathered root killer on them. All that was step one.
Step two: build a new landscaping border around the area. This took a couple of days and a couple of trips to Home Depot, but today, we finished it.
Tonight, we went back to get the components for part three — at least some of them.
I guess it had to end some time: truth be told, I’d been posting random pictures rather than anything of any substance for the majority of the posts lately. A posting streak of 1,875 days is still not shabby.
What did it in? Sickness. Violent, awful, sickness…
Are blueberries and the jasmine on the slope behind them are locked in eternal conflict. The jasmine is the aggressor, continually trying to climb the blueberries, and the blueberries just want to be left alone. Today was the day to intervene. 
I’m currently reading Alan Rusbridger’s Play It Again : An Amateur Against the Impossible. It’s about his attempt as an amateur pianist to tackle Chopin’s Ballade No. 1 in G Minor — one of the most impressively challenging pieces in the canon.
I’ve been quasi-obsessed with Chopin’s Ballades for a long time, and while I’ll grudgingly admit that No. 4 is the superior of the four, No. 1 will always be my favorite. And I love it for the reason all who play it love at and fear it: the terrifying coda, marked Presto con fuoco. For non-Italian speakers or people who never to music lessons to learn all those Italian terms:
To say it’s impressive is an understatement.
Those leaps the left hand has to make; those whatever-the-hell-they-are right hand furies starting at bar 216 (Garrick Ohlsson calls them “wiggles” — if only); that double scale separated not by an octave but by a tenth at bar 255. How can anyone do that?
I took enough piano that I can follow the score and point to where the music is (in other words, I could turn the pages for someone playing this), and that means I know just enough about piano to realize how impossible this piece is. And yet people learn it all the time. “I played it when I was 17 and…” one person explained in a video. “It’s devilishly tricky,” a professional might say. No — it’s impossible. How anyone does it is beyond me.
Alan Rusbridger accomplished it (or least I’m assuming he did — he wrote the book about the attempt) while serving as the editor of the Guardian, which, according to Rusbridger, was publishing around 200,000 words a day when he was working on the Ballade. He was working 60-80 hours a week, coordinating the WikiLeaks articles, getting 60-80 emails an hour by his own estimation, staying up until the wee-hours several nights a week — and somehow he found the time to tackle this ridiculously challenging piece.
In short, Rusbridger’s accomplishment leads us to wonder what we do with our own little spare bits of time here and there. To be able even to stumble through the Ballade would require the average amateur hours upon hours of practice. Where do we get those hours?
I spent some of my free time tonight reading Rusbridger’s book, for example; I’m spending time now writing this. K has started tinkering on the piano, using L’s old books. The Boy — we have to pull him off Fortnight. The Girl — reading, phone, movies, chatting/texting with friends. But the amount of time most of us in the West waste is astonishing. The only thing we can’t get back, and we waste so much of it.
Today was the day everything went back to normal. The Christmas lights came down (though the tree is still up — whatever K wants to do is fine with me in that regard). The Boy’s 5v5 soccer season resumed: E’s team won 4:3, with the Boy scoring the winning goal.
But some things were still holiday-esque: I made farsz for pierogi again. And this time, I remembered how much grease the sautéed mushrooms spit out as they go through the grinder.
“Do we a fartuszek of any kind I can use?” I asked K.
“But of course…”
Everyone has returned home; K returns to work tomorrow — the 2024 holiday season is over. The timeless magical period of Wigilia and Christmas and all the time preparing for it disappears, and the worries that for a few days we put out of our minds come crowding back in.
I woke up this morning thinking of school. The students are great — the best group I’ve had in years. The amount of micro-managing and mindless paperwork has increase so much over the last two years that it has me dreading a return. I’m left in a stressful quandary:
It’s a difficult decision that I’ll have to make very soon, and it entails a conversation with my school’s administration that I don’t really anticipate gleefully.
L is still recovering from surgery. It will take a couple of weeks. It’s still stressful to us all, though. It’s “Worry 2” instead of “Worry 1” because we know it’s temporary. She’ll recover; she’ll be able to breath better; her sinuses won’t be giving her constant headaches. So it’s a short-term worry — hence, “Worry 2.” But it’s our daughter we’re worried about: even when it’s a seemingly unfounded worry, we can’t just shake it off.
We have a leak in our roof. It might be under warranty from the company that replaced our roof a few years ago; it might not be. We won’t know until the company comes out and looks at it. But we’ve been on the list for over a week now. It took them forever to start the work in the first place. I’m not confident we’ll see anyone here for a long time.
And it’s supposed to start raining tomorrow afternoon and rain through the weekend.
I’ve got it tarped, but not sufficiently for a heavy rain. The location of the leak and the shape of our roof make it difficult to tarp. And we have no idea how long this will last.
Do we just call another company and take the hit?
Do we call insurance (they suggested calling the company that replaced it in the first place — a company the insurance adjuster had recommended, for the wrote our current roof)?
We have elected as president a narcissist who’s a convicted felon who tried to retain power by overthrowing the democratic process, a man who is, in every possible sense of the idea, completely unfit for the office. And some very worrying people will likely have an influence on him. People like Curtis Yarvin:
Yarvin, who considers liberal democracy as a decadent enemy to be dismantled, is intellectually influential on vice president-elect JD Vance and close to several proposed Trump appointees. The aftermath of Trump’s election victory has seen actions and rhetoric from Trump and his lieutenants that closely resemble Yarvin’s public proposals for taking autocratic power in America. (The Guardian)
When Trump takes office in a few weeks, it could conceivably lead to the end of America as we know it. Sure, the Republicans said the same things about Biden, but those fears were based on baseless conspiracy theories and good-old-fashioned hate-mongering. The people surrounding Trump aren’t being conspiratorial about anything: they’re saying it all aloud. They’re not holding their cards close: they’ve laid them all out with the Project 2025 manifesto and rhetoric people like Yarvin are saying.
Given the post-election period and Trump’s preparation for a return to the White House, Yarvin’s program seems less fanciful then it did in 2021, when he laid it out for Anton.
In the recording of that podcast, Yarvin offers a condensed presentation of his program which he has laid out on Substack and in other venues.
Midway through their conversation, Anton says to Yarvin, “You’re essentially advocating for someone to – age-old move – gain power lawfully through an election, and then exercise it unlawfully”, adding: “What do you think the actual chances of that happening are?”
Yarvin responded: “It wouldn’t be unlawful,” adding: “You’d simply declare a state of emergency in your inaugural address.”
Yarvin continued: “You’d actually have a mandate to do this. Where would that mandate come from? It would come from basically running on it, saying, ‘Hey, this is what we’re going to do.’”
Throughout the 2024 campaign, Trump promised to carry out a wide array of anti-democratic or authoritarian moves, and effectively ran on these promises. Trump has suggested he might declare a state of emergency in response to America’s immigration crisis.
Trump also promised to pursue retribution on individually named antagonists like representative Nancy Pelosi and senator-elect Adam Schiff, and spoke more broadly about dispatching the US military to deal with “the enemy within”.
Later in the recording, Yarvin said that after a hypothetical authoritarian president was inaugurated in January, “you can’t continue to have a Harvard or a New York Times past since perhaps the start of April”. Later expanding on the idea with “the idea that you’re going to be a Caesar and take power and operate with someone else’s Department of Reality in operation is just manifestly absurd.”
“Machiavelli could tell you right away that that’s a stupid idea,” Yarvin added. (The Guardian)
This is, of course, a worry that leaves me thinking, “This is all out of my hands — I can do nothing about it,” and yet. And yet…
So when the holidays are over, it’s not just a return to “normal” life. It’s that with a few additional stressors (not even all mentioned here) thrown in. We’ll get through it all, but it doesn’t diminish the stress levels.
Exactly one year earlier, it was a smoking day as well.
Will we ever be done with pierogi? Saturday, Sunday, and Monday — three days of pierogi and uszki work. The upshot — we have an entire freezer of Polish dumplings.
Our last batch was a distinctly non-Polish varietal: we had left-over turkey (not from Thanksgiving!) that we ground and mixed with mushrooms. They’re good, just not very Polish. When we have them, I like to fry them just long enough to get a crispy finish and then make the lovely sauce you get with Chinese dumplings (soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil) and pretend we ordered out Chinese.
We closed the evening with a little math help. K does the math work with him; I do the English work.