Wisconsin Film Festival 2021 – What I Saw and My Opinion Thereof. Also, support arts, including film…

These are the Wisconsin Film Festival Films I saw this year. It was a great harvest! Very few stinkers! 

Another bonus: We got to enjoy the films when we had time, and also got to sit outside in nice weather and still see a film. We got to share a film with friends at their home. Popcorn happened. Deb and I watched two separate films simultaneously. 

Downside: No frantic bicycle riding from film to film to work off the sitting on our butts! 

Below are the ones I saw, links to trailers or the whole film, and a quick review! (I did not check the links – sorry in advance if any are incorrect!)

I’d love to know what films you have seen and what you liked, whether here or elsewhere! Maybe, we’ll see each other in line next year, or somewhere else in the world. Or virtually…?

Rent these and more independent films when you can. Arts make our lives worth living. 

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Finding A Way (3 – 8yrs – Short Films)

• (good) Maestro – France – https://youtu.be/fT-h6BDiV50 – Animation, animals “sing” to classical piece
• (best) The LIttle Bird and the Bees (Der kleine Vogel und die Bienen) – Switzerland – https://youtu.be/teuPyj9_q3M – Incredible animation! Sweet.
• (OK) Patchwork Spider (Die spinne auf meiner schmusedecke) – Germany – https://youtu.be/5S_TeR08FbQ – Adorable animation for tiny kids.
• (Good) Home Away 3000 – France –  https://youtu.be/QUHWVxsuels – Funny, cute, stop animation
• (Good) A Lynx in the Town (Un Lynx dans la Ville) – France – https://vimeo.com/ondemand/unlynxdanslaville – Funny, animation 
• (OK) Goodnight – Japan – https://youtu.be/XVDB-m9lR5E – sweet animation of two siblings and fantastical dreams
• (nope) Family Bonds – Germany – https://youtu.be/ungXSZ_9HnQ – OOF. What?
• (nope) Go! Go! – USA – The worst of 70s -style animation. 
• (best) The Witch and the Baby (Malyshka y Baba Yaga) – Russia – https://pequefilmes.com/en/cortometraje/the-witch-the-baby/ – Hysterical and great animation of classic story
• (nope) Mido and the Instrumals (Mido et les Instrumeaux) – France – https://www.miyu.fr/distribution/mido-et-les-instrumeaux/ – Very high art – didn’t love the animation

Fitting In and Standing Out (8 – 11+ yrs – short films)

• (good) Esperança – France – https://dafilms.com/film/11081-esperanca – Powerful story of young immigrant woman – animation
• (very good) The Fox and the Bird (Le Renard et l’Oisille) – France – https://youtu.be/Jm0MLlE4x0U – Excellent animation, beautiful, sweet
• (very good) The Missfits – USA – https://youtu.be/IBQaTv4qD20 – Documentary short, all-female high school robotics team
• (very good) Shy and Ketchup – Chile – https://youtu.be/Imlc5m65bDY – animated, very short, very funny! 
• (good) Renildo and Vanildo – Netherlands/Guinea-Bissau – https://youtu.be/x4yH9y8in4g – adorable twins who dance – documentary 
• (very good) Accents – Australia – https://vimeo.com/202097766 – super short animation, love for heritage and mother
• (good) The One You Never Forget – USA – https://vimeo.com/288610484 – super sweet queer themed live action
• (good) Dela – Brazil – https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8910804/ sweet live action about bold little girl and her name

Magic and Wonder (8 – 11+ – short films)

• (good) Quma and the Beasts (Quma y las Bestias) – Argentina – https://youtu.be/AFAJIJFSVfA – Great animation
• (good) The Size of Things (El tamano de las costas) – Columbia – https://vimeo.com/314936020 – Awesome live action short; ending…?
• (good) The Beauty – Germany – https://youtu.be/57Tzu7cAxeo – Creative way to convey an important message. Stunning animation.
• (very good) Konigiri-Kun: Boat – Japan – https://nyicff.org/films/konigiri-kun-the-boat/ – HYSTERICAL, and apparently one of a series of a bento box rice ball and friends having adventures
• (best) The Magic of Chess – USA – https://youtu.be/Tr8F0Xp5Cq8 – ADORABLE and funny interview with mini chess players; live action
• (best) Matilda and the Spare Head (Matilda ir atsargine galva) – Lithuania – https://www.miyu.fr/distribution/en/matilda-and-the-spare-head-❊-matilda-ir-atsargine-galva-2/ – Funny, creative story about a girl with a spare head. Animation.
• (good) Make a Wish – USA – https://isthmus.com/events/Wisconsin-Film-Festival/ – Madison-made and filmed in our ‘hood! So proud and sweet. Live action. Filmmaker stars.
• (very good) N of 1 – USA – http://www.nof1film.com – Woof. Documentary. The power of crowd-sourcing and science. Transplant. Rare diseases…in this case a specific liver cancer. 
• (OK) The Mystery of Now – USA – https://youtu.be/lw7XhAFwxqc – Interesting documentary of native american artist and skateboard maker.
• (OK) Mogul Mowgli – UK – https://youtu.be/s-hFOqYUgcE – Had high hopes for this Riz Ahmed piece. Narrative, trippy. Visually interesting. 
• (OK) Ice Breakers – Canada – https://www.nfb.ca/film/ice-breakers/ – Very interesting subject, but film is so-so. Want to explore more about black ice hockey in Canada. 
• (very good) Holler – USA – https://youtu.be/4-CFpCQbIek – Phew. Palpable mood. Narrative about working class young woman…visually effective and fantastic acting. 
• (very good) Try Harder! – USA – https://youtu.be/U4WZ6nDz-3w – Documentary about the most competitive high school in the country. Good lord! 
• (best) Walchensee Forever – Germany – https://youtu.be/_dZJjrGyssk – Documentary. Woman film-maker from the Swiss Alps tells the story of her family, predominantly the women – riveting story, beautiful, and full of historical film and photos, interviews. Family, mental health, love, loss. Wow. 
• (awful) The Witches of the Orient – France – https://youtu.be/6_Jy8t3BiOQ – Artyfarty documentary on an amazing topic but was ruined for me by the film. 
• (good) The Club of Ugly Children (De club vanlelijke kinderen) – Netherlands – https://youtu.be/CTRqvBFOkQs – Super cute, funny, excellent for a kid/teen audience. Dutch is such a wacky language to hear! 
• (best) Becoming Gepetto – USA – https://youtu.be/Y2y9PmC-Jlc – One of my favorites. Documentary of a Wisconsin luthier – his journey to creating world-class Petros guitars sold to famous musicians. Makers will love to watch this! Film is tight and well-done. Music played on his/their guitars accompanies.
• (meh) Fear (Strah) – Bulgaria – https://youtu.be/xL2nQ0ytEPw – Supposed to be a dark comedy about migrants and small minds, but wasn’t very comedic. Only watched half.

OK, now you share…

Connecting in Villa Park

This is a little blurb to go along with some photos. The set you see here is meant to be clicked upon and rummaged through.

I encourage you to explore. Every time I do, I am rewarded.

• So glad I have rain gear so I can ride no matter the weather.
• So glad I decided to try the not-fancy coffee shop.
• So glad I had my bike.
• So glad I talked to people, asked questions.

I am staying in Villa Park, IL. This is my third stint in a year and a half.

I come to the area for professional education classes in physical therapy in Oak Brook at a PT office called BodyGears. It’s in ‘burbia, with large trafficky avenues and high-end shopping malls. Chain restaurants. Some other things, too. It hides a creek with its urban self.  I saw it, once.

Villa Park is a modest village that blends into the rest of this suburban Chicago area. I stay in a room. My hosts are super-friendly and quiet and leave me to my space. This third stay we have an easy rapport. There’s a lot more to share about them, too.

I’ve learned more about this working class, on the railroad tracks village each time I come. This visit has been fun. I have my bike. I found more local places and people. Here goes.

The factory that made Ovaltine was here. It is now a big building of apartments and townhouses on the main street.

Train tracks use to run through it. Two bike trails on old rail lines have trailheads on the main street. Crushed limestone and clay that became blobs thrown onto my bike and me – Today I had time and I had my bike. It rained, then poured. Some thunder.  A little lightning. Thus the blobs!

Last night, I rode the Great Western Trail. Today, the Illinois Prairie Path (which has a large swath of restored prairie along it) through the suburbs. Green spaces and rain and birds bathing.

The part I was on was the “main stem” of the path. Get it. Prairie. Stem?

I found shelter and ate the sub I got at Mike’s. Mike’s is next to the Funky Java* coffeehouse. They are both in a strip mall that I’d normally drive by without looking into. There is a bakery (that I’ll visit) and a fitness studio.

Larry runs the coffee shop. When I asked him for some ideas on where to buy sporting goods (I forgot to bring my foam roller and balance ball for class), he encouraged me to go down to the fitness facility (also in the strip mall) and tell Josh that Larry sent me. I went down for advice, and Josh loaned me a foam roller and a balance ball. He said he had plenty! John and Josh were big and fit and really nice.

I would have driven right by it.

I was wearing my super-amazing rain coat from Sweden (warm, water-proof and vented like a charm), so I kept riding. I looked at the map in Lombard. “I want to ride to that spot I see on the map where the path crosses, where the big blue line that is clearly a river or a stream is.” The way it moved across the map, clearly that is what it was.

Nope. It was I-355. And I thought, I bet it is that shape because it is covering a stream or a river. And maybe it’s still there. And yards from I-355 IS a stream.

And yards from I-294 (in Elmhurst) is another stream.

We drive right by these. We FLY right by these.

There were also overpasses, underpasses, trains, dogs, people.

Today in the rain there were toads and robins having a shower-bath. There was a lesson in how fast organic matter can leach into water as the runoff and puddling on the path flowed over crushed black walnuts lying there. A brown-red stream like blood. It helped me avoid wiping out by running over the nuts.

There was one accidental and one planned selfie.

The museum was open in Villa Park when I got back (one end Elmhurst, the other end Glen Ellyn). They have a fantastic historic museum! Ovaltine! And trains. And other slices of history.

There is both a photo and a video of the inside of my rain coat.

And a victory photo of all my clay-globbed rain gear resting in the airbnb shower.

Thanks for joining me. There’s more to share about Villa Park and training and all these things.

*You must go to Funky Java. All are welcome. Larry is nice. There is local artwork, and all is welcome. Sometimes there is music. Or poetry. It’s small. The coffee is good. It’s been there 26 years with Larry. He will watch your stuff if you need to get up for a minute.

 

 

It’s the End of The World As We Know It…

–

…Might as Well Dance.

–

–

Here’s what I figure. There will be a decision and an outcome. The game will be over.

We have three branches of government. Checks and balances.

Next season, everyone begins with a 0-0 even record.

During periods of oppression and repression, we’ve also – at the same time – had:

–

• Fred Rogers

• Stonewall
•  
• Miles Davis       (PLAY HERE) 
•   
• Temple Grandin

–

–

• Malala

•  
• Harvey Milk
•  
• Jane Goodall

• Jackie Robinson
•  
• Hamdi Ulukaya

–

Ask why. Ask how. But don’t let your incredulity freeze you.

Keep on.

The world needs YOUR words, YOUR science, YOUR art, YOUR stuff.

–

 

 

 

Push-ups.

 

Marla and I on day 11 of 22.

This is  a health issue. A mental health and a social health issue.

I recently participated in a push-up challenge, propagated through Facebook, in which one is to do 22 push-ups for 22 days. You are filmed and post it, then challenge a new person to do the same every day. The goal is 22 million push-ups.

It brings attention to the statistic that every day, on average, 22 veterans are killed by suicide.  

The movement is part of the group #22 Kill . They have other initiatives which raise awareness and support. “22KILL is a global movement bridging the gap between veterans and civilians to build a community of support.” 

What I (think I) learned:

I was alarmed at the statistic.

Many factors contribute to suicide. For veterans PTSD is, indeed, part of the picture.

And I recalled this, then (U.S. stats):

• “About 7 or 8 out of every 100 people (or 7-8% of the population) will have PTSD at some point in their lives.
• About 8 million adults have PTSD during a given year. This is only a small portion of those who have gone through a trauma.
• About 10 of every 100 (or 10%) of women develop PTSD sometime in their lives compared with about 4 of every 100 (or 4%) of men. Learn more about women, trauma and PTSD.

Some groups of people, including African-Americans and Hispanics, may be more likely than whites to develop PTSD. This may be because members of these groups are more likely to go through a trauma. For example, in Veterans who survived Vietnam, a larger percent of African-Americans, Hispanics, and Native Americans were in combat than whites.” – National Center for PTSD

As soon as you are a veteran, your chance of developing PTSD is extraordinary.

Just living as a woman, African-American or Hispanic-American means your chance of developing PTSD is high.

Most people in the U.S. with PTSD are not veterans.

I can do more push-ups now.

Now that I know I can, I kind of have to. I think that is the point. One of them.

It’s still hard to do push-ups. My form is OK. It was interesting to see from the outside.

What now?

It has been inspiring to see so many people participating in this.

Some of my friends and family members chose to participate when I tagged them. That resulted in a bunch of thoughts and feelings:

Pride. Excitement. Concern. Selfishness. Hope. Worry. Frustration. Joy. Hope. Excitement. Frustration.  All of these fed the question:

What now?

Some did not want to be on film. Some modified the push-ups and some maintained insane form. Everyone struggled at some point.

My friend Jill has linked her performances to specific history and place, to awareness about minority veterans, family history and more.

Some did them on vacation, quietly in the house, some boldly in the streets or at memorial sites.  Some involved other people, made it about community.  They inspired others to begin it, and so it goes.

ALL of it is inspirational. But, still:

What now?

What do YOU think about this challenge? What did it do for YOU?

If YOU are a veteran, what do you think?

Those of YOU who have felt suicidal, tried to commit suicide…what matters?

Have you developed PTSD, or do  you know someone who has? What helps? What do YOU want?

It feels like it is all about me, still. How to use this momentum to make it about the people, about you?

What I am going to DO – Please share resources to help me, if you have them. 

• Ask gentle but direct questions, like: “Are you thinking of hurting yourself?” 
• Push-ups. For my own health. 
• Keep resources close. Domestic and sexual abuse hotlines and safe places. Suicide hotlines. To share. 
• Support the work. Domestic and sexual violence groups. Peace efforts. Mental health initiatives. Legislation addressing homelessness and environmental prejudice.
• Continue the conversation. Share resources and stories.
• Collaborate and make community. From all of the above, and continue to ask people to join me. 

 

Yelling at the Earworm

I have a bent, a tendency, a lean…an intractable character trait or brain problem or whatever it is…toward obsession. Perseveration. I get attached.

A random word releases a memory, which always (always) links to a tune. Usually it’s a phrase of a popular song or a commercial jingle. The earworm is hatched.

After a few days of incessant turning of this worm, I am desperate to put an end to it. (Yes. It can be days. Sometimes weeks. Often multiple worms. I’m a fantastic multi-tasker.)

It’s hard to end it.

My sister, a mental health professional, responded to my plea for help and gave me the best advice I ever got.  “Yell at it.”

What?

“Yell at it. In your head. Think about using the voice … if your nephew were about to put his hand on a hot stove, how would you say it?”

“HEY!”

“Yes. Like that.”

So I do it. And it WORKS!

I often use “Hey!” Occasionally it needs more, like when the dog sometimes gets (correctly or not) an extra “Stay. Staaaaay. STAY!” command.
Recently, after I’d worn down a good brain pathway by repeating [gulp. i am risking re-awakening the worm.] the chorus of Kim Richey’s “Chinese Boxes“, and though I love her music, I had had enough.

 

For some reason, I used the word “STOP!”

Well THAT just put another song right into my head.

But to my pleasant surprise it wasn’t

• Diana Ross and the Supremes
• MC Hammer
• Vanilla Ice
• etc
• etc
• etc

…though clearly I went there afterward. [sigh]

What scoured a new channel into my brain?

“Batdance” which morphed into “Electric Chair” – both by Prince from the Batman soundtrack.

No cursing this time. I raise a glass to the fact that music is inextricably linked to all things in my life.

I toast to my sister, and to this song set again, still digging (ha. get it?) the memories and the jams…

 

 

 

 

just the first few blocks

Every once in a while, Deb and I toy with the idea of what it would be like to move out of our house. Out of our neighborhood. Out of Madison, even Wisconsin.

There would be losses and there would be benefits, like anything. At this point, it is a philosophical exercise. But we do it sometimes when we think about navigating stairs as we age, or when we assess our financial situation, or my business, or when we discuss our long distance from family.

Often in the spring, we have a neighborhood block party. I have the privilege of setting it up and of encouraging folks to get involved. Through our local neighborhood list (which Deb and I set up at the first block party I organized), we ask for help. We get it. I got seven offers to hand out fliers and accepted five. Pretty cool.

I met one of my “over two blocks, and up one block” neighbors while walking our dogs.  She shared pet training tips and neighborhood stories, and walked with us, like she always does.

Last Sunday, I rumbled my wheelbarrow (with its mostly inflated tire and a shovel) around a couple blocks to dig up ferns. I had posted a request to my neighbors on that listserv, and learned very quickly I’d be doing many favors by taking ferns away. They are in our yard, now, with my wishes for them to take over the crazy ground-cover and to hop over our fence to the public land that borders the bike trail…supplanting more of the kooky weeds that grow there.

Not only did I get ferns, I got gardening tips and some wild ginger. And stories about each person, how they had been, their new kitty, their job, their plans for summer. I got to help remove ferns from places where cats would hide under a bird feeder as well as to remove ferns from overcrowing beautiful trilliums. Trilia?

Neat.

In our mailbox the other day we found a flier for our neighbor’s retirement party. “Meet at Wilson’s!” bar, two long blocks up and one over, where somehow we had never been. (If you know Wisconsin, you know bars are on every corner.)  This one has a zillion screens tuned in to any NFL game by request during the season (and still, Deb had never been there) as well as a famous Friday fish fry. The latter is not rare, but we hear it is one of the best. We got to celebrate with our neighbors, who welcomed us and made us feel special in an enormous sea of friends and family.

Neat.

Walking the dogs, I saw our handyman/carpenter (finally found “the one”, who we won’t let get away), and we chatted a little about a project he did, about the weather. He’s my neighbor.

Walking a different day, I met a local business man who makes trekking poles which I encourage in my therapy practice for everything from fitness to help with balance to relief of joint pain while walking. I do it because they are good products and they help people and they are locally made. We partner because we are both passionate about people staying active and safe and independent.

He’s a keeper. He’s my neighbor.

I encounter many of my therapy clients where I live. On the street, in the grocery store, at the gym, at local art walks, in restaurants. I get to see them being themselves in their every day lives. We chat about how they are doing, and they can show me how they are doing. They are my neighbors!

This year at the block party, we will have new neighbors, new children.  There will be people who have been here for decades. Our alder is coming.  The local “tool library” will come.

Our new neighborhood community police officer will come.

I walk three blocks south to one of the lakes that makes us an isthmus. Three blocks from our house to the west is the river. I see at minimum two Little Free Libraries, with different combinations of books inside almost every day. I nod to people I don’t really know but whom I see all the time.

I walk by houses of people I know and know of:  A friend from my undergrad days at Ripon lives around the corner; so does the public TV producer and musician, and several public radio guys. The piano teacher everyone loves is here; the local entrepreneur and baseball fan; several retired fire fighters, all women. More musicians and artists per capita than a planned artists’ colony.

The people whose passion it is to fill our neighborhood festivals with live music live a few houses away. Five festivals are within walking distance of our home. We can hear each of them without walking out the door. We do walk out the door, though.

The kids – unbelievably loud and boisterous – fill the streets each day around 2:30 as they leave the grade school across the river.  It’s safe for them to walk to school here.

Out the back gate is the bike path that can I take all the way to Illinois, if I care to.  The path is visible from our back window. All varieties of life pass through and we get to watch that parade.

Out that same gate, and over a couple blocks is the music venue where we saw George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic this weekend. I’ve seen Cheap Trick, Ryan Adams, the Indigo Girls, Suzanne Vega, KT Tunstall, and more, right there.

Between here and there, there are a multitude of incredible restaurants. Diners and chocolate cafes and Laotian and Tibetan and pizza and walnut burgers and fish fry. I could skip to and among them all and not get tired, they are that close.

Our gym is walkable, even in the windiest of winters. There is boxing to watch between sets. There are strong men and women heave-ho-ing and bodybuilders fine-tuning and people stretching or doing yoga. Everyone knows everyone, at least by sight. Strenuous activity and neighborhood conversations happen all together.  We see these folks in our neighborhood, watch their kids grow, see their dogs.

Between here and there are the Circus Space where I practice German Wheel-ing, art studios (one in which I had a tintype made), a multitude of incredible restaurants and pubs with “new american” locally sourced food, chocolate (a different one), microbrewery, pizza, tacos, fresh salads and fresh eggs.  Then there’s the pet supply store where we get our best information and found our Lizzie dog; the convenience store with tiny post office, a local bank, and some mystery businesses we still don’t know about but whose display windows suggest art and design of some kind. There are acupuncturists, massage therapists and chiropractors. Someone tends the gardens on the various small plots of ground between and among these places.  The vocal arts studio where you can learn opera is next to the tap/drama studio (celebrating 30 years) which is just over from (one of) the microbrewery(ies).  I have often skipped among all of these places without becoming winded.

Two blocks over, one block down is the market. Honey? Can you go pick up a…? Yes. Be right back.

Deb can catch a bus to anywhere on the isthmus at many different stops which are no more than two blocks in any direction of our house.  She (and I…well, anyone) can bus or bike safely to most places on and outside of the isthmus. Paths and lanes and trails leading to schools and farmland and prairie and parks, hills and waterways and businesses.

There are art walks and gallery openings within these, our first few blocks, multiple times a year.

Bicycle Benefits are available at most businesses.

The neighborhood bar (which serves the best pizza and best walnut burgers you have ever had) is too close for us to ride to, so we don’t often get to take advantage of Bicycle Benefits.   The bar is where we always see someone we know:  Team mate, co-worker, neighborhood family with kids, local business owners.  (Mostly, they know our names.  And they’re always glad we came. And it always feels really good to be greeted.)  Yes. Brewers are always on the TV.  The young man we know who boxes at the gym, one of the nicest people we have met, always greets us when we go. We first met him working there when he was just a teen.

One of the storefronts for a local ice cream maker is across the street from the bar.  (“This S&@! Just Got Serious!” is my favorite flavor.  I’m always slightly uncomfortable ordering it. Not uncomfortable enough, though…) It’s owned by someone who lives within the blocks.  People curl around the corner from the window, and spill onto the bike path.  Last year, the locals got together to close the side street as an experiment to see if it could be better used as a park. It was full of couches, knitting, ice cream, side-walk chalk, food carts… I think it was a success.

People stop at our house and talk to us; they comment on our unique railing and our cute dogs. We don’t even know most of them.

I ride my bike along the lake a few blocks to my softball games at the park next to the botanical gardens.  That’s also where our gym holds the strong man (this year, including women!) competition each year. There is also an annual Kubb tournament.

Heading north on a path next to the river we reach the other lake less than a mile away.

You travel under the roads to get there.  A few more miles down the road is the local baseball stadium, home of the Madison Mallards of the North Woods League, in the middle of a large, beautiful park. Fun and games and local entertainment. We can pull right up to the gate on our bikes and get valet (bike) parking if we want it. There are always promotions, and vegetarian options for food; they donate tons to the community, and provide the ball park for non-baseball events almost year round. The manager lives…yep…within our blocks.

There is Colleen. Colleen is the unofficial Mayor of Madison – at least of Downtown and the Near East Side.

The question you ask people is not, “Do you know Colleen?” but “How do you know Colleen?” Last week, I saw her on the capitol square, walking home from one of her jobs.  Then, a few days later, we saw her in Milwaukee at Miller Park.  The next day, I saw her on the bike path on the opposite side of town. She lives in our blocks.  This week, we stopped at her place for the annual “Bike to Work Week Breakfast” that she cooks from 6:30am – 10:30am every year on the last day of this week. Piles of bikes outside, piles of shoes at the entry, and piles of people in her kitchen munching on homemade waffles, eggs, bacon and other treats.

When we widen our circumference just another a few blocks, we get the local hardware store where we greet (and razz) one another heartily; we collect even more restaurants, coffee shops and cafes, community and social justice centers, shelters, business incubators, yoga studios, health care providers, art galleries, bakeries…

Yes. Just within a few more blocks.

Come. Visit. Because I think we aren’t leaving any time soon.  There are more photos if you want to peek.

Now, for the turkeys.

Yes, we have ducks in our neighborhood.

We also have our own flock of wild turkeys. I normally see four. I have heard there are more.

Our neighborhood listservs are a-flutter with sightings and thoughts and plans. True to form, no one has tried to remove them. “Have you seen the turkeys?” is now a common sentence after initial greeting, when we meet on the street.

They have been spotted roosting high in the trees a couple blocks over, between Schoep’s Ice Cream factory and The Harmony Bar. Right off the bike trail along busy Atwood Avenue.

They have stopped traffic multiple times. I heard they loiter on Oakridge Ave.

Deb spotted them — twice! — surrounding a semi-trailer delivering groceries to the corner store. They wouldn’t let the trucks out of the bay.

My client emailed me a phone-photo of them feeding in the median of the avenue, exclaiming one of them was balancing up on the electrical wires above.

Our mail carrier, the most gentle and kind and humane person we know, has been harassed by them many times.  They surround her vehicle, stretching up to the blue and red stripes that encircle her truck.  She has had to sneak through the front door and then escape out the back door of a neighbor’s home, because the flock wouldn’t let her back down the steps of the house after she delivered mail.  Not only would she never harm them, she is trying to understand their behavior. She heard they are aggressive toward the color red, so today she was wearing only blue on her uniform in hopes of gathering information if she met them. But she didn’t.

We did. Walking along Oakridge, the dogs’ noses were magnetized to the ground, pulled along, zig-zag-zig-zag. There! The tracks in the light snow dusting the walk. Four-pronged and segmented like a string of wooden beads with a tip at each end. Turkey prints! The only street I’ve seen them on so far.  We turned the corner, and the gang was there, hanging out, waiting for Kim the mail carrier.

Ducklings

It’s winter in Madison, Wisconsin. My neighborhood is right on the isthmus, with the river two blocks down, and one of the lakes just three blocks over.

Walking around the streets I see the ducks, including some of the returning diving ducks like the hooded mergansers (whose “ducklings depart with a bold leap to the forest floor when only one day old.” Imagine that!), bobbing in the open water of the river. The river makes me think of a cheap zipper on a too-small-coat:  Sealed around the edges, open in the middle.

The ducks nest along the river. But they also nest and feed in the driveways and the yards of the houses along the water. This is a common sight.  Many days, when we walk the sidewalk along the water on a snowy day, to the left are the bobbing and feeding birds. In front of us over the sidewalk and to the right all the way up a driveway are waddling prints, heading toward a backyard shelter. Sometimes the flock takes off right over our heads, splashing back to the water, stunning us and the dogs. Sometimes they park under bird feeders, bushes and trees in the side yards.

I imagine the same pathway this coming spring, with invisible flap-footed prints both large and small, as the ducklings-to-be follow their parents up the driveway and back down to the water.

Many days, as I walk the sidewalk along the lake edge on a clear, cold day, I happen upon a common sight:  Little ducklings ahead, toodling toward the water’s edge, behind their daddy. They are colored pink and purple and green with fuzzy hats, waddling on fat ice skates and holding stubby little hockey sticks.

A message from the past

I have been going through some old letters and mementos.

I found this poster – I think it was about 2000. My friends had moved from Virginia to Wisconsin. I was trying to find a new home, too, and went on a road trip with my sister, Kate.

Scottie and Jim and Casey and Samantha took us in as we explored.  Sam was about two, and Casey would have been about five years old.

We were welcomed – we still talk about that day!

It was beautiful and a little jolting to see these messages from the past.  I am glad I kept them. I don’t need them to know that my friends are my family, but it is lovely, nonetheless. Thank you, my friends.

My sister and my brother and their progeny

My brother wrote me a letter, and drew me a picture when he was a kid:

His son, Braden, drew us a photo recently. He’s a kid:

My sister drew me some pictures when she was a kid:

Her son Colin is a kid. Here he is, with a picture that he drew: