At last we’ve left January behind and moved into February! Not that February is any better. It’s usually much worse. In fact, it’s usually the worst month of winter with the coldest days and the deepest snow. People say, “at least it’s a short month,” but February never seems short to me. It drags on and on and on. That’s partly because my anticipation of spring begins to intensify in February. The calendar says March is almost here and the spring equinox, but I have to keep reminding myself that that means very little here in cold Gold. March is often just as wintry as February and crueler because it shouldn’t be.
To prove me right, the last days of January were cold, in the low 30's, but as February approached we dropped into the teens and then, as we crossed into the month, the single digits. Friday night we went as low as -8° with a wind chill of -14°. That’s February.
February is the month when I have to really try to distract myself. I need to read exciting books and listen to thrilling music, and avoid anything sad or dreary. I have to immerse myself in making garden charts and finalizing seed orders. If the month provides me with any warmish days, I’ll start the gardening year by pruning the orchard. But February is notoriously unreliable. There have been years when the snowdrops were in bloom by the end of the month. And there have been years when the snowdrifts were still four feet deep. You never know.
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| A sunset last week. |
Thursday was Groundhog Day. We kept our usual tradition and watched the movie Groundhog Day. The official rodent downstate saw his shadow, but we know that there will be at least six more weeks of winter here no matter what Phil says. February 2nd is actually the calendrical midpoint of winter. Six weeks gone, six or more to go. Most likely many more.
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| This year's official Groundhog Day announcement. |
I finished reading my Lewis and Clark book last week. It was a great adventure. I learned so many new things. I wanted my next book to be a gripping story to help prevent the onset of premature spring fever. I scanned my bookshelves hoping some title would leap out at me. Should I look for something I’ve never read before (I still have some of those on my shelves) or revisit a book I’ve already read and know that I love? Nothing appealed to me. I went online and looked at the New York Times Best Seller List, the Amazon Best Seller List, the Barnes & Nobel Best Seller List hoping to see something new that interested me. I tend to avoid The Latest Big Thing when it comes to novels. I’m too often disappointed by flimsy plots, poor character development, excessive vulgarity, and horrendous grammar. I had errands to do up in Wellsville on Thursday. I had to go to the chapel and to Tractor Supply to price chicken feed, so I decided to stop at the library while I was there.
The David A. Howe (no relation) Library in Wellsville is a great library. It’s a beautiful building inside and out. We used to go there about once every other week. Back in the day, our children would check out a pile of books, and I’d check out a pile of books, and two weeks later we would return them and get another pile. After the children were grown or gone, we didn’t go as often. When Covid hit, the library closed, and when it finally reopened, we were out of the habit of going. I’d like to change that and get back to making regular visits. When I went there on Thursday, I’d planned to look for some good fiction, but I came away with two nonfiction titles, Pests: How Humans Create Animal Villains by Bethany Brookshire, and Pig Years by Ellyn Gaydos. I’ll let you know if they are worth reading.
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| The David A. Howe Library. |
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| Inside the library. |
On my way home from Wellsville, I swung by Alma Pond. There were reports last week of snow geese there. When I got there the pond was frozen and I saw no birds of any type except for some ravens. As I stood by the pond, I heard an odd noise, a sort of eerie, almost musical moan. I realized it was the ice making the noise. I took a video and if you listen closely you can hear it. It was much louder in person. After that, I continued on toward home, but I needed to go by the dairy to get milk. As I came down the 449 toward Gold, I decided to take a shortcut to the dairy over the hill on the Gazdag Road. It turned out to be pretty scary. The road was icy and steep in places, but I made it. I stopped at the top of the hill and took a photo of the view looking east toward Ulysses. Then I got my milk and a pint of ice cream (chocolate coconut – I couldn’t resist) and came home. That was my big errand/library adventure.
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| The Genesee River just outside Wellsville. |
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| Alma Pond. |
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| The view toward Ulysses. |
I also ended my winter musical adventure into the world of Italian opera last week. I had a great time, but I needed to wrap it up and move on to something new. In the realm of popular music there is a phenomenon called The One Hit Wonder. These are performers or groups that have just a single hit song that rises to the top of the charts, poor players that strut and fret their hour upon the stage and then are heard no more. You can look up lists of them online and they are many. I’ve come to realize that in the world of opera there is also a kind of One Hit Wonder, not in the sense that the composer only produced one popular opera in their career, although there are some of those, but that an opera has just one notable piece in it, usually either an overture or an aria. For example, in Cats, to site a modern opera, you have to sit through an hour and a half of irritating nonsense just to hear the only good song in the thing, Memory. In exploring Italian opera I’ve found that some of the greatest arias are often submerged within hours of forgettable and sometimes tedious music. After a bit of trial and error sampling various operas last week, looking for one that would interest me, I decided to stick with just my favorite arias and forego listening to the complete operas that feature them. Here are three videos from a few of my favorite arias.
‘O mio babbino caro’ from Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi is a beautiful aria sung by Lauretta after tensions between her father Gianni Schicchi and the family of Rinuccio, the boy she loves, have reached a breaking point that threatens to separate her from Rinuccio. Lauretta begs her father to let her marry Rinuccio.
Mi piace, è bello, bello I like him, he is handsome, handsome
Vo’ andare in Porta Rossa I want to go to Porta Rossa
A comperar l’anello! To buy the ring!
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare! Yes, yes, I want to go there!
E se l’amassi indarno, And if my love were in vain,
Andrei sul Ponte Vecchio, I would go to the Ponte Vecchio
Ma per buttarmi in Arno! and throw myself in the Arno!
Mi struggo e mi tormento! I am anguished and tormented!
O Dio, vorrei morir! Oh God, I’d like to die!
Babbo, pietà, pietà! Papa, have pity, have pity!
Babbo, pietà, pietà! Papa, have pity, have pity!
The aria ‘Nessun dorma’ from Puccini’s Turandot is sung by Calaf, the unknown prince, who falls in love at first sight with the beautiful but cold Princess Turandot. Any man who wishes to wed Turandot must first answer three riddles and if he fails, he will be beheaded. In the aria, Calaf expresses his triumphant assurance that he will win the princess.
Tu pure, o Principessa, Not even you, oh Princess,
nella tua fredda stanza, in your cold bedroom,
guardi le stelle watching the stars
che tremano d'amore, e di speranza! that tremble with love, and with hope!
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me; But my secret is hidden within me;
il nome mio nessun saprà! no one will know my name!
No, No! Sulla tua bocca, No, no! On your mouth,
lo dirò quando la luce splenderà! I will say it when the light shines!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà And my kiss will dissolve
il silenzio che ti fa mia! the silence that makes you mine!
Il nome suo nessun saprà, (No one will know his name,
E noi dovrem, ahimè, morir, morir! and we will have to, alas, die, die!)
Dilegua, o notte! Vanish, o night!
Tramontate, stelle! Fade, you stars!
Tramontate, stelle! Fade, you stars!
All'alba, vincerò! At dawn, I will win!
Vincerò! Vincerò! I will win! I will win!
‘Vesti la giubba’ from Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci is a heart-wrenching aria sung by Canio, a clown in the circus, who discovers his wife's infidelity, but must nevertheless prepare for his performance as Pagliaccio the clown because, no matter what, the show must go on.
non so più quel che dico, I no longer know what I say,
e quel che faccio! or what I do!
Eppur è d'uopo, sforzati! And yet it's necessary. Force yourself!
Bah! Sei tu forse un uom? Bah! Are you even a man?
Tu se' Pagliaccio! You are a clown!
Vesti la giubba e la faccia infarina. Put on your costume and powder your face.
La gente paga, e rider vuole qua. The people are paying, and they want to laugh here.
E se Arlecchin t'invola Colombina, And if Harlequin steals away your Columbina,
ridi, Pagliaccio, e ognun applaudirà! laugh, clown, and all will applaud!
Tramuta in lazzi lo spasmo ed il pianto Turn your distress and tears into jokes,
in una smorfia il singhiozzo e 'l dolor, Ah! your pain and sobs into a smirk, Ah!
Ridi, Pagliaccio, Laugh, clown,
sul tuo amore infranto! at your broken love!
Ridi del duol, che t'avvelena il cor! Laugh at the grief that poisons your heart!
And now I’m ready to leave opera for a while and move on to other musical distractions. I’m thinking maybe Russian composers. February seems like a Russian sort of month, or maybe I should say Siberian.
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| February sunrise. |
We had a cold snap that began on Thursday night and has continued on into the weekend. We brought in a load of firewood and tried to keep the wood stove going all weekend, but it went out sometime after 3:00 a.m. on Saturday morning when no one woke up to stoke it. That was okay because I needed to clean out the ashes and the stovepipe anyway. We’ve used up all the wood we had stacked on the back porch and are using the pile at the side of the house now. We will have to go and get more wood soon, which is a miserable job when it’s cold and snowy. We should have prepared better. We will next time.
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| The messy job of cleaning the wood stove. |
Saturday morning it was -10°, but the sky was clear and the sunrise looked to be pretty, so I went on a predawn walk. I went across the front yard and down to the beaver pond. Everything was quiet and still. There was no wind. I saw no living creatures, no birds, there were no cars on the road. I stood and watched, waiting for the sun to come up over the hill, hoping to see a sun pillar or sun dogs, which often happens on subzero mornings like that. But nothing happened and the sun was taking too long, and I was getting cold, so I abandoned my watch. I came home via the big garden. The wind has scoured the snow there, leaving bare patches in some places and drifts in others. When I came back inside, I cleaned the ashes out of the wood stove and took the bucket of ashes down to the chicken coop and dumped it in their indoor dusting pool. They were happy to see me. They love to dust bathe in the ash. Then I came back to the house and made some hot cocoa and sat by the newly cleaned wood stove and enjoyed being warm inside and out.
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| Saturday morning walk, crossing the yard. |
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| By the beaver pond, waiting for the sun to rise. |
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| Coming home through the big garden. |
After the chores on Saturday, I spent the afternoon reading by the wood stove and dozing. Upstairs, Stacey and Hannah watched romantic movies while making valentines.
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| Making valentines. |
It's warmer today, 46° right now and it feels nice. We are home from church. We've eaten lunch. The day is bright and sunny and I would be tempted to take a walk if it weren't for the lingering snow drifts. I don't feel like slogging through snow no matter how warm it is. I'll go down and do the chores soon. As we drove past the barn on our way up the road, I could see the chickens and the peacock all out enjoying the sunshine. This coming weekend we are traveling down to the Thayn's house for our big February Italian weekend. That will be fun. I'll tell you all about it next week.
