March. More Like Itself

March. More Like Itself

(This first part was written 2 days ago.)

It’s March again. 15 degrees this morning. All the water frozen in the coops, and up in the goose pen there was a 4 inch solid crust of ice on top of the 5 gallon water bucket. With last week’s weather up in the high 70’s, low 80’s it was the perfect time to reel in all the extension cords that had powered water heaters and heat bulbs etcetera, etcetera. Not so anymore. I’m just glad I held back on my urge to plant lettuce and snap peas and kale. I wonder what this has done to the tender fright wig blossoms on the young maples that were turning the forest pinkish red? “They’re toast,” a friend said at a party this weekend when we were speculating on the cold snaps that were sure to return. Richard’s been up to the pens and coops this morning Gunga Din-ing his cute little butt off, and contending with the ever cantankerous Shmuel who guards his harum with a flurry of fluffed up feathers, then a low snake approach of his neck, and a final sidelong glare, those wild blue eyes in a field of white feathers looking like Moby Dick’s, that warns of menace and mayhem should Richard step foot in the pen. I watched all of this from the safety of a kitchen window, a slight sore throat keeping me indoors. It was quite entertaining. And believe me, I’ve experienced every version of this behavior. Last week with pugs around, Shmuel pulled out the full Chinese New Year dragon routine with wings up Karate Kid fashion and a terrifying serpent head in the center, hissing for all get out. It’s very impressive theatre. And when it comes right down to it, that’s all he’s got as a defense strategy - theatre. Theatre and a good bite or two.

There’ve been 2 pair of Canada Geese battling for supremecy over our pond. Not the most ideal nesting place, though, since it’s still frozen. But last week with the warm weather, there were caws and aerial combat, chases, complaints, and through it all, I was so impressed by the calm of our three. Unlike years past, they didn’t look upset at all. The were like Switzerland, wisely sitting it out, swaddled in neutrality. I was pulling for the smaller, sweeter pair of Canada Geese to win out, but size seems to matter in this battle. Too bad, because the bigger pair seem more contrary and combative which won’t bode well if our geese ever want to take a swim. More will be revealed.

Complete change of subject.

Our statehouse. Okay, Vermont’s governmental set-up has to rank as one more of the reasons I love living here. Let’s say it’s reason 60. I’m still a novice when it comes to knowing the inner workings and all the ins and outs available, but upon first tour, it’s the paradigm of a people’s government. The legislature is in session now and topping the bill is the health care debate with Governor Shumlin’s hope that he’ll be able to forge, with the Senate and the House, a successful path to Vermont being the first state in the union to have Single Payer coverage for everyone in the state. Deb Richter, a new friend of mine, former family care physician and now full time advocate for Single Pay, shepherded me through the halls of the statehouse, part tour, part primer.

“They don’t have any offices.”
‘Who?’

“Any of the legislators.”

A pause to let this sink in.

‘So where do they do their work?’

“Deals are hammered out in the cafeteria. You’ll see at lunch. So if you want to talk something over with a legislator, you can go right up to him at lunch. And not only that, you have the right as a citizen to sit in on any meeting in any office. There is full transparency here.”

This was incredible to me. It had the ring of something unique and special, the resonating original intent of the founding fathers perhaps. Of course, it all depends on an educated populace that is interested enough to take part in their government to keep that original intent alive. And I admit that interest/duty/calling has been hibernating in me. There’s a stirring inside me, though, call it Spring, call it March going out like a lion, call it an awakening, I’m not really clear, but I’m following it, heeding its call. I’m interested in all this, there’s an excitement at being a student, in learning, aiming for expertise, intending that, especially when it comes to health care. Something about that speaks deeply to me.

My first tour continued, first day at school. Deb popped me into the main sessions of both the house and the senate (the senate chamber is very cozy, like Williamsburg, Virginia in miniature) where we saw citizens sitting in the back, observing the proceedings, hooray for them. And then we walked right into a small office where a “private” meeting of senators was being given a précis of the proposed set-up of the insurance exchange through Green Mountain Care that would be a forerunner to Single Payer Care. There were other citizens at the edges of the room, listening in. We were all treated like guests, the same handout that had been given to the senators was also passed out to us. I loved it. And I love that Vermont, little old Vermont, could very well be the first state to have the courage and wherewithal to try Single Pay. It’s doable. With a passionate Governor at the helm, it’s doeable. (I would meet Governor Shumlin later in the day. He seemed a consummate politician, present, alert, bright, making me seem like his full attention was on me for that moment even though he was in the midst of a reception for a major check having been given to the state for Hurricane Irene rebuilding.)

This morning

Since the tour the other day, I’ve embarked on a crash course about Single Pay. The idea of Single Pay has always intrigued me, it’s always seemed like the best choice, otherwise why would people be so LOUDLY against it, rolling out the old charges of socialism. That’s my first clue that this must be something really good for the common man. So I’ve been boning up on it. Deb and her husband Terry Doran have written 2 terrific books about health care in Vermont and I’m devouring Wendell Potter’s terrificly true “Deadly Spin” about his background as a senior executive and spinmeister for Humana and CIGNA before becoming a whistleblower and major advocate for Single Pay. I love unlikely heroes. You go, Wendell. More to be revealed. Very exciting.

Back to the geese.

I’m once again at the kitchen window, standing and typing on my Macbook pro. The geese are right outside the window, congregating around a 5 gallon white bucket filled with water. I love watching them. Shmuel submerges his neck, diving so deep into the bucket and then back out again. I can tell he’s so missing the pond because he tries to climb into the bucket, reaching his big orange feet up the sides of the bucket, trying to gain purchase, taking part in some magical thinking that maybe if he dives his neck deep enough in this water it will turn into pond. He’s such a water fowl. It’s who he is. So wonderful observing creatures be completely who they are.

Dear Felicity just gave a little cry. She’s been so game about her injury. It’s getting better, but she’ll probably always have a limp, always a little Long John Silver to her get along. Shmuel and Mary Ann leave her on her own a lot of the time, wandering away from her, which is sad to see. She just noticed they were gone – that’s what brought her cry, a plaintive “where are you?”, they’re flock birds after all – and she’s hobbled over to where they are, chewing grass along the way. She’ll get there and sit for awhile, maybe because of the pain, who knows. I mean, what is pain to her? Just a piece of what her life is now, not necessarily a setback, just what is. Tough it out.

Oh, 2 male Canada Geese are still battling it out up on the hill, both families still waiting for the pond to thaw and Spring to come.

I think I’ll plant some seeds inside today.