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D.O.P.-T.

Today the compost got fed two well-bitten fallen oranges and two fallen camellia flowers. And I had to sweep in front of the house again because the neighbours' gardeners blew their leaves there.

That chaise longue seems to have been taken away. Perfectly good piece of furniture, before it got rained on and covered in leaves.

D.O.P.-T.

No rain today until evening; I should have mowed the front meadow, but I did do some sweeping up of leaves (after the wind came up and shifted at least half of them for me). It was dry enough that Monty came out to watch me, and accepted food.

Apparently the storm a week ago was bad enough to do serious damage at the observatory on Mount Hamilton, above San Jose. I had no idea.

D.O.P.-T.

Today we were promised heavy rain showers, but they fizzled. Or snuck in when I wasn't looking. The only cat I saw was Mama Violet, but munching happened. The dog only asked to go out three times; then she took me on a long New Year's walk in mid-afternoon, all the way to the park, and pooped halfway there.

D.O.P.-T. (last year)

Forgot to report that it rained all day yesterday. Lightly, but almost continuously. The bucket got a third full. (I miss being able to see daily and cumulative totals ...) The bluebells are spearing through the soil next to the driveway.

Twelfth night of Yule

It was raining steadily and the light was fading when I squelched across the grass, managed to light a match, and blóted Loki, Sigyn, Hel, Narfi, Nari/Vali Lokasónr, Hǫðr, and the forgotten gods and goddesses with a new bottle of Pinot gris (also fairly good: Hahn, 2024). Then I wassailed the trees with mixed wine and rainwater.

D.O.P.-T.

It actually rained a little bit on us as we were walking to the park after lunch—that wasn't supposed to happen till tomorrow. Chilly, too; I think the dog only insisted on going out 4 times. And the mail carrier came by at breakfast time, obviously rushing to get the job over with so he could go home and warm up.

Almost all the tree debris from last week's storms has been cleared. Just a few palm fronds remain on private land, including one I moved so it didn't impinge on some very early narcissi in front of a car repair place.

Eleventh night of Yule

The sunset was grey-pink, with a light breeze blowing; I blóted Sjǫfn, Lofn, Gefjon, Fulla/Volla, Sighærta/Sinhtgunt, and the Norns with the rest of the red wine.

D.O.P.-T.

There was a touch of frost on the clover this morning, but the nasturtiums seem to have been a bit protected by the tall fence. It was sunny most of the day; Monty was back sleeping on the neighbours' sloping roof, Prudence peeped at me from the roof of the other neighbours' shed, where they're trying to lure her into domesticity, and their mother ate all her breakfast and slept in the teddy bear's lap for a while. Meanwhile the dog wanted out again and again ...

Two more oranges fell overnight, one half-eaten and the other split almost in half on the tree. Both went to compost and I chose a replacement to pick.

Tenth night of Yule

The sunset was just beginning as I stepped out into the back garden and blóted Iðunn, Eostre, Auschlinde, Mæginde, and Seaxnót with more red wine. (Two of those are UPI.) The sky glowed pale gold, and a climbing plane, probably out of SFO, laid a pink trail.

D.O.P.-T.

The dog was constantly asking to be let out today, then basically lying on the grass in the sun. I think she thinks it's spring. I looked up and Monty was lying on the sloping roof of the neighbours' extension.

Ninth night of Yule

As the sunset faded, I again stood barefoot on the grass and blóted Bragi, Saga, Snotra, Mímir, Ár/Eir, and Holda/Perht with more red wine.

D.O.P.-T.

We had a day to dry out, with a blue sky and fluffy clouds. I found two oranges waiting for me under the tree, together with nibbled-off rind from one still somewhere up there and two aged husks from last season. And when I swept and tidied in front of the house, a nest lying in the grass.

Eighth night of Yule

I went out barefoot with a bottle of Cabernet as the sunset became streaks of gold and pink, the half-moon riding overhead in clear sky, and blóted Skaði, Wulþor/Ullr, Rind, and Háma/Heimdallr.

D.O.P.-T.

The cracks in my fingers and thumb are finally healing; either it's that little bit warmer, or humidity is a factor. However, I've acquired some sort of nasty sting or bite; it looks like a wasp sting to me, but it's inside my clothing. Can't wait for that to heal.

Seventh night of Yule

I blóted Móna, Sunne, Bil, Hjúki, Vǫr, Niht, Dæg, Gná, and Hermóðr with the last of the rosé. It was raining, although not hard; the sky was white-grey, no moon to be seen.

D.O.P.-T.

I tried putting out my laundry today, but it was spotting rain onto it despite large patches of blue in the sky. By evening it was thumping it down and the bucket in the back porch was suddenly more than half full.

I had a huge, deeply fissured orange with my breakfast that had come down unharmed off the tree.

Sixth night of Yule

It was raining hard and full dark when I squelched across the grass and blóted Erce (Jǫrð, Eorþe), Hreþe and Nerthus in case Tacitus and/or Bede was right, Fjǫrgyn in case I'm wrong, Ægir, Rán, their nine daughters, and Nehalennia, with more rosé. Advantage of a screw-top bottle, I could close it between rechargings of the horn.

D.O.P.-T. (yesterday)

Judging by the bits of trees strewn around streets and in the park, we did indeed get high winds as well as rain last night. It was gloomy in the morning, but the sun actually managed to come out in the afternoon. All three cats were waiting for their breakfast, and Monty and Prudence both came to the back porch again in the late afternoon to request more. Maybe the filet mignon people are off to take advantage of the snow. This evening we must have had heavy rain; the bucket in the back porch room suddenly had an inch of water in it. Hopefully the cats are bedded down somewhere warm.

Fifth night of Yule

Tonight I went out with shoes on, since the grass is very wet. I blóted Tíw, Fosite, Hlín, Syn, Vár, Þorgerðr Hǫlgabrúðr, and Irpa with more rosé. As I was hailing Fosite, Monty leapt up to the top of the chimney of the old brick outdoor hearth at which I blót in the back garden. He looked at me lengthily, turned around either trying to get comfortable (several bricks have fallen off) or gathering himself, then jumped easily to the fence, turned left, and departed to another back garden. Then it started to gently spot rain.

I fed both Monty and his sister in the back porch room a few minutes before starting my blót, since they were asking.

D.O.P.-T.

Despite impending Xmas, we did the fortnightly grocery run on the usual day. It wasn't too crowded.

The weather forecast has turned apocalyptic: 75 mph winds, thunder and lightning, and an appreciable risk of tornadoes. It's resumed raining. I'll take the rest with several pinches of salt.