I never metaphysical I didn't like

Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T12:40:00.002-05:00

Giving thanks. Thanks for:
Sun sparkling on snow
toast
cats
skilled veterinarians
a chance to find and connect with someone I thought I'd lost forever
wood fires
stacked wood
a group of friends willing to help me stack wood
the color red
the skill of many people who make my clothes
the skill of all the people who bring food close enough to me so I can eat it
Kate Bush
The Beatles
Earth’s axial tilt

Free is good, right?

2011-11-23T14:28:00.002-05:00

I like to eat raw food as often as possible. It just seems right. I have had a lot of help along the way, learning among many things, ways to avoid the pitfalls when cravings strike.

One of my most recent finds is Raw Foods on a Budget.

I took a substantial pay cut last year and added on a long-ass commute. This makes my funds very tight. In fact, too often my metaphorical toe comes through my metaphorical sock. I spend more than I have. I'm talking about discovering that there is no money to buy fuel and I have to rob my accumulating funds for say, my property taxes. I then hope I can dig out enough in time for paying my property taxes.

So, when I discovered this gem of a site and Brandi Rollins's program, I signed right up. (She gave me a scholarship! I couldn't have afforded it without her generosity and hope one day to pay it forward.)

Check it out. Brandi Rollins is the real deal!

Jack Horkheimer Passes Away at 72

2010-08-27T13:22:00.004-04:00

A week ago today one of my life's inspirations passed away.

I looked to Jack every week for years to have an idea of what gifts, surprises and awe (real awe) inspiring sights were in store each night.

Jack was smart, funny; a card.

He taught me a lot and did it with humor and excitement. He will be missed. In fact, those at the Miami Planetarium are still trying to figure out what to do without him.

He wrote his own epitaph: " 'Keep Looking Up' was my life's admonition; I can do little else in my present position."

2010-04-23T08:09:00.001-04:00

Dream's End

2009-11-03T10:18:00.003-05:00

View Larger Map

Each year, around the end of October, I join 3 dear friends; LC, SF, & CMc-G, at this lovely cottage at the end of Sagadahoc Bay Rd. for a long weekend of wonderful company, good conversation, beautiful views, great food, lots of laughter and, of course, love.

Written & Directed by Samantha Lavin (my prize winning niece!)

2009-07-24T18:40:00.004-04:00

If you somehow missed all the hubbub about The Blair Witch Project, then you may miss just how great this video is!

I will now let it speak for itself:

The Blaire Wedding Project: A horror film for Marriage Equality - watch more funny videos

Dreaming of this...

2009-06-21T13:30:00.002-04:00

Raspberry Cream Dream

Ingredients

1 fresh banana
2 frozen bananas, broken into smaller pieces
2 cups of frozen raspberries
a splash of water

Directions

Stick it in a blender that’s got the guts to handle a few frozen bananas, and just wiggle, plunge and shift those ingredients around until you get the most incredibly smooth, sexy and gloriously red creamy wonderfood!
Ahhh…
Let it slip into the most gorgeous bowl you have, procure yourself a dainty spoon and proceed to lose yourself in the ecstasy of a whole new kind of comfort food.

Stench from rotten refrigerator sickens 28; San Jose office evacuated

2009-06-07T08:16:00.004-04:00

Inspired by a story found at The San José Mercury News.

This will happen in my office one day. Mark my words. We have already come close.

Struttin' yer stuff

2009-05-21T17:44:00.004-04:00

Why has this image become associated with Thanksgiving? Turkeys breed in the spring!

This lovely fellow is in my dooryard. They (he and the females) are very skittish. If I move past a window they cluck/pop off and run for cover. I had to shoot this very surreptitiously.

I can hear him right now, gobbling out in the field behind the house. A Ruffed Grouse was drumming across the road this morning. The thrush are back, and a Northern Parula warbler has been gleaning bugs from my wood pile for several days.

I wish I never had to go back to work. And I am sure no one has ever wished that before.

V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N

2009-05-21T17:30:00.008-04:00

I am on vacation. Yea!

I was supposed to go to Provincetown. Yea!

I wasn't able to go. Boo.

Still, I'm having a pleasant time. I am enjoying my home as it was intended. Nature. Views. Sounds. Breezes. Lovely.

I have had energy. Something lacking for a long time. I have been doing projects I've been wanting to do for a long time.

Here is my favorite project so far:
For years I have been frustrated with the one bar towel rack I've had. I've always felt it an imposition to have to fold towels to hang them on a towel rack. I did it because it was "what one did." Well, it takes too much time for something so unimportant.

I realized recently that I don't like to use rods (and hangers) for hanging things. Not for my coats, not for my towels!

I replaced the closet rod for my coats and jackets with this:
A beautiful hook system. Now my stuff is almost always hung up instead of tossed on the couch or table. Same idea with the towels. Of course I never used hangers for the towels but it was the folding thing that I never did.

I love this new system! I love how it looks. I love that I made it. I love that it is far easier for me to use.

Why the heck not be as comfortable as one can be in one's own house?

Spring, Poding

2009-05-12T06:12:00.004-04:00

It is a foggy spring morning. Slim is poding in her nest. I am sipping tea and marveling at the shining yellow the American Goldfinches on my feeder are wearing.

Poding is a word that doesn't exist in dictionaries. At least none that I've been able to find. It means that kneading thing that cats do with their front paws. Everyone says they do it cause it's what they did as kittens during nursing. OK. But. All mammals nursed and I've never seen another mammal do this. Why cats?

Chickpeas on a chilly night.

2009-02-15T18:00:00.002-05:00

Hearty Chickpea Soup

Ingredients

2 T olive oil
1 rib celery
1 med carrot, chopped
1 med onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 t ground cinnamon
1/4 t ground turmeric
1/4 t ground ginger or 1 t grated fresh
2 C vegetable broth
1 can (15 oz) chickpeas, rinsed & drained
1 can (14.5 oz) diced or stewed tomatoes (no salt)
2 C baby spinach leaves
lemon wedges (garnish)

Directions

Heat oil on medium heat. Sauté celery, carrot, onion and garlic 3—5 minutes. Add cinnamon. turmeric, ginger. Cook 1—2 minutes longer.
Add broth, chickpeas, and tomatoes (with juice). Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer. Cook partially coverd 25 minutes or until vegetables are tender.
Stir in spinach and cook until wilted.
Garnish with lemon wedges if desired

Search, share, and cook your recipes on Mac OS X with SousChef!

mi nombre Yma Sumac or Zoila Augusta Emperatriz Chavarri del Castillo, a usted.

2008-11-13T21:25:00.015-05:00

I read a few nights ago that Yma Sumac died November 1, 2008 at the age of 86.

I love her sense of drama! Her voice! Her mystery! Ah! And that nose! An utterly unique Yma Sumac.

She had a 5 octave range at the height of her career, watching her sing it was hard to figure out how the hell those sounds came out of her.

One of her most famous albums was Voice of the Xtabay (can you say: shta-bye?).
But you gotta love a gal who, in the early ’70s, after a long hiatus (and about 20 years since recording a full album) came out with an LP of “rock” with Chuck (rockabilly hall of famer) Cowan’s guitar, the bass of his brother Roger, and Skip Switzer on drums.

I read somewhere that she sounded like a cross between Big Mama Thornton (the deep growls) and Kate Bush (the high wails). But I beg to differ. She was an original. (Then again, so are Willie Mae and Kate!)

Fire, Hawks and Slim

2008-11-13T20:48:00.006-05:00

I am sitting in front of a gorgeous fire I just built. It has started to rain. The frying sound of the rain on my rooftop plus the metallic ticking of the wood stove are two of my favorite sounds. Slim*, my pussycat is curled up in her little plush winter bed in front of the fire. We both have full bellies and are feeling quite content.

Now, if only a million dollars would drip through one of my slightly open windows (I love fresh air through each season). Ok, if not a million how 'bout 250 grand? 50? Twenty bucks? A coupon for a dollar off Boca burgers?

*Slim: You know you don't have to act with me, Steve. You don't have to say anything, and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow.

And here for your viewing pleasure is a photo of the “real” Slim:

Slim Hawks and Jimmy Stewart, ca. 1940

And the other “real” Slim:

Kate the Great

2008-07-30T22:02:00.005-04:00

Catherine Bush was born in Bexleyheath, Kent, UK in 1958.

One of the best musicians/writers/composers of our time. No, make that of any time.

Happy 50th Birthday, Kate!

Singer Jo Stafford Dies, So Does Steve

2008-07-17T20:54:00.010-04:00

I just found out from my friend Lee Hartsfeld’s blog that singer Jo Stafford died yesterday.

Billie Holiday said that Jo’s voice is like an instrument.

Click pic to read more about Jo. I don't feel much like writing.

I also found out today, but not from Lee, that my friend Steve died a few weeks ago. I got a small, thin, tight envelope in the mail today from my friend Sara, with a single newspaper clipping in it.

I was and am stunned.

“Stephen Frank [sic] Ells, 73, died peacefully Monday, June 30, 2008, from his illness at residence after a long devotion to his family and the environment.

Born in Boston in 1935, he grew up in Waltham on Trapelo Farm. He was a graduate of the Belmont Hill School, Harvard University and Harvard Law.

As a lieutenant commander in Naval Intelligence, he endured trying times with the East aboard the USS Midway.

During his career he was with Choate, Hall and Stuart Law Firm, the State Department of Natural Resources, the Conservation Law Foundation, the Massachusetts Area Planning Council and was Governor Frank Sargeant’s chief legal council. He then worked tirelessly to clean up Boston Harbor and the rest of the region while at the Environmental Protection Agency until retirement in 1990.

During retirement he continued his dedication to his family, land preservation and a lifelong love of birds. The furthering of his mother’s genealogical work proved invaluable. His efforts for Estabrook Woods and Thoreau country in general spoke volumes. Even the bobolinks benefited from his time here.

He is survived by his fiancée, Susan McMurray; his three sons, David, Nathaniel and Jonathan; and their mother Laura. He is also survived by his three granddaughters.

...”

I missed the memorial service. And I have missed him; he decided several years ago our friendship somehow compromised his relationship with Susan. I will never understand that or ever fully recover from the amputation.

He was my friend. Few people have made me laugh or think as much as he.

Steve Ells
March 2, 1935–June 30, 2008

Apology

2008-07-06T09:48:00.011-04:00

“Christianity will go,” he said. “It will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue about that; I’m right and I will be proved right. We’re more popular than Jesus now; I don’t know which will go first—rock ’n’ roll or Christianity. Jesus was all right but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It’s them twisting it that ruins it for me.”
March 4, 1966

“I just said what I said and it was wrong. Or was taken wrong.”
August 11, 1966

I love that he got in that second part. He was pressured into the apology. It took him a few seconds in front of the press to find his balance but find it he did.

My Review of Rocky Buzz Off! T-Shirt - Mossy Oak, Long Sleeve (For Men)

2008-07-05T14:31:00.004-04:00

Originally submitted at Sierra Trading Post

Closeouts. The Rocky Buzz Off! long sleeve shirt offers not only the superior camo patterns of Mossy Oak, but the added bonus of outstanding insect protection. Buzz Off! insect-repellent treatment. Long sleeves. Crew neck. Square-cut hem. 100% cotton. Machine wash, dry. Russia. ...

Buy one now!

By CrimsonCrow from Maine on 7/5/2008

Sizing: Feels half size too small

Pros: Comfortable, Camo Design, Breathable, Buzz Off bug repellant

Cons: A bit rough textured

Best Uses: Hiking, Any outdoor activity, Mosquito-land, Gardening

I don't hunt, at all. But I like to spend time outdoors. This is the first summer I've actually put in a garden because I can handle the biting bugs. Here in blackfly-mosquito-deerfly-horsefly-midgie heaven, this top is tops!

I mean it! We have bugs!

(legalese)

Sh*t

2008-06-23T17:22:00.005-04:00

George Carlin died yesterday. He was only 71; had a history of heart disease. It finally got him. Shit.

Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, Tits!

If I do say so myself...

7 more words: Good bye, we will miss you George.

Head Stories

2008-06-08T13:16:00.004-04:00

Over vegan French toast a friend of mine reminded me about some valuable information today. It changed the tenor of my day, immediately.

It’s the idea of “head stories.” Stories we tell ourselves about things that we need/want to do, or situations we may find ourselves in.

What is a head story?

Like this: Oh, god, I don’t want to call Suzanne because she always keeps me on the phone too long and I end up getting resentful. I know if I call her I’ll be on the phone at least an hour.

How do you know? You don’t know that.

Yes, yes I do know. She always does it.

But you can’t know that she’ll keep you on the phone.

Oh, yes, believe me. I know.

You might believe she will, or you might be afraid she will or you might remember that she has in the past, but you can not know she will keep you on the phone for at least on hour this time.

So, dreading it, I call Suzanne.

We talk for 8 minutes. A sweet connection.

Head stories. I wrecked at least an hour of my day telling myself stories and believing they were true. They were not investigative, journalistic reporting.

They were damn convincing fiction.

Get back...

2008-06-08T09:13:00.004-04:00

I want to get back in the habit of writing here. So, as part of an exercise here is some writing: I am going to meet a friend for breakfast this morning.

Slim was outside for no more than 5 minutes and caught a Meadow Vole. She had it for breakfast. I took up her food bowl.

Oh, there was no Triple Crown winner, again.

Rainy Day Activity

2008-05-31T13:39:00.002-04:00

My Music on RYM

Well, some of it anyway...I’ll never get it all posted.

Raw Raw Sis Koombah!

2008-03-31T18:54:00.006-04:00

I did a 7 day raw food cleanse a couple of weeks ago. After finishing it I decided to sign on to a 30 day life transforming program called The Body Enlightenment System. I was skeptical. Internet rip-offs abound.

I seem to have stumbled on to a group of women working together to help each other feel better, get free of that which is holding us back, i.e. clutter of matter (messy, depressing house), clutter of mind (negative voices), clutter of body (unhealthy weight: too much/not enough), and grow.

So far I have had a wonderful, live (phone) consultation with Tera, one of the co-founders, I have received a bunch of material from ways to chart progress, to assisting in self exploration. It is not only well written but well designed, (save for a few annoying typos, but then I annoy at such details. Not that I am above typos, lord-ess knows.)

I have also met several warm, funny women who are all challenging themselves to feel better, think better, be better. I have just finished day 2. A long way to go. We'll see what I write when I have gotten farther into the process.

Wish me luck on my journey!

Green

2008-03-22T09:09:00.003-04:00

I made myself a delicious smoothie: 2 bananas; 1 mango; 1 large handful of raw, baby spinach; 1 Tbl of raw, ground flax seed; 1 Tbl of lecithin; 1/2 tsp fresh cinnamon and a cup of raw, unsweetened almond milk.

I am sipping it now. Jeez, it's good!

I have a warm fire going inside and the wind is howling outside. The sun seems to have finally made it out. I plan to go on an un-clutter mission today. Smoothie first, un-clutter next.

Wildlife update: turkey tracks on the snow. I tossed out a bucket of scratch feed to see if I might get them to come back at a time when I am home and can enjoy the sight of them.

It is inevitable

2008-03-20T05:59:00.006-04:00

In spite of how much we all grumble about whether or not it will ever arrive it always does. Spring.

I saw grackles yesterday. My personally designated first sign of Spring. Then come the Woodcock. With all the rain we are getting today I am certain if I go out after work today and walk the shoreline, I will hear them coming in and setting to with their “peent, peent, peent” calls.

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She gives it away...

2008-03-14T22:21:00.002-04:00

Lisa Vollrath has done it again!

That gal just keeps giving it away...

Fire, too

2008-02-16T15:25:00.006-05:00

About 1:00 p.m. Shep, Charlie and Keith; and then I, a bit later, went up to the house. A new blaze had broken out. By about 4:30 they had it out, finally after 3 separate attempts in two days.

This is the side entrance into the bathroom.

My walk home with the small, double roof of my house barely showing on the right.

It's all different now.

Fire!

2007-12-14T22:06:00.006-05:00

Saturday, December 2, 2007 about 3:00 p.m. I saw from my kitchen window smoke up at the house and called 911. A few seconds later Judy called and left a message on my machine telling me that the house was burning.

I couldn’t take pictures of the first fire. My batteries were drained from a trip to Florida a week earlier and I was too full of adrenaline after getting Judy's call to find fresh ones. I couldn’t have taken them anyway once I got there and saw...

photo by Priscilla Holcomb

The photos that follow are from 12/3/2007. The blurry, bluish ones were taken about 6:00 am. I called 911 to report smoke billowing out of the house. The Fire department responded and put it out.

Skeletal spruce. The ass't fire chief said her son got trapped when this tree went up in flames. She said he knew he was in trouble immediately and was really scared. He looked for his partner (firefighters work in pairs at all times for this reason) and realized that she had gotten to the other side of the tree just as it went up and didn't know what had happened. He figured his only way to survive was to kick the fence down. His partner realized quickly what had happened and from the other side, she helped him tear the fence down.

Here is the missing section of fence the firefighters tore down.

About 1:00 p.m. Shep, Charlie and Keith; and then I, a bit later, went up to the house. A new blaze broke out. By about 4:30 they had contained it finally.

[photos not uploaded yet]

Pink for October

2007-09-28T06:22:00.001-04:00

Web sites will Go Pink during the month of October to bring attention to Breast Cancer Awareness Month, get people talking about breast cancer, and raise money for research.

She's gone?

2007-06-11T19:11:00.000-04:00

My friend/mentor/mother-figure/big sister/teacher died on June 1st. Putting it here makes it painfully real. I get waves of sorrow and grief. Unbidden.

I can't call D to tell her something monumental happened. Her being gone is the monumental thing that has happened.

She died on her husband's 77th birthday. Her last words were “happy birthday.”

She was 70.

I wish now I had saved her last phone message to me. But I erased it knowing I would talk to her again.

I don't know, I just...

Try it Without Breathing

2007-04-19T15:44:00.000-04:00

The Greek word apnea, means literally “without breath.”

Too much of that can cause “without life.”

That is never good.

I was recently diagnosed with sleep apnea. I have been chronically exhausted for about a year. I have been depressed.

Not blue. Not suicidal. Not sad. More...flat. Nothing has much appeal. Spring came and went last year and I never noticed. Summer went by. I didn’t notice. Winter. And here we are again. Spring.

I dread it, mostly. Its damn insistence on re-birth and joy. Its moments of sun that send those around me into paroxysms of glee, hope, mirth. I just don’t care. It feels like an imposition. Buzz off. Don’t tell me I have to go out and play. I have no idea anymore why people do that. Play, I mean. I just don’t really care.

See? Depressed. Flat. I can see it. But I can’t will it away.

My friend SN, concerned about the change in me and my unrelenting lack of interest in anything, told me about her mother. She was “depressed.” Eventually doctors decided to do a sleep study and determined she had sleep apnea. She was treated for it and feels better. No more needing to pull off to the side of the road on the way home from work just to sleep.

People with untreated sleep apnea stop breathing, sometimes hundreds of times a night, often for minutes at a time. Again, I’m tellin’ ya, that is never good.

The brain, good ol’ brain, arouses one from sleep in order for them to breathe. Sleep is therefore fragmented and of poor quality. People rarely get to REM levels of restorative sleep or only get there for short periods of time.

No restorative sleep. Bad.

The neurologist who interpreted the data from my sleep study determined that I slept about 6 hours out of 8. Not because I was reading, or star-gazing, mind you, because my brain had to keep arousing me from sleep so I would breathe.

I was waked from sleep by said brain 178 times. Normal sleepers wake 5-7 times, although it’s not the sort of wakefulness that we remember.

I spent less than an hour in REM the entire night. Normal, restorative REM is 90-120 minutes per 8-ish hours of sleep a night.

So.

I get to wear one of these:

What has happened to me?

I'm listening to the tune "Perforated Sleep" by Leo Kottke from the album: Guitar Music

All I wanted, was to be good...

2007-04-17T22:12:00.000-04:00

I'm listening to the tune "Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole" by Martha Wainwright from the album: Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole

Little love affair

2007-04-16T10:17:00.000-04:00

Chicago, the first font Susan Kare, bitmap graphic designer, created for the Macintosh, in 1983 was originally named Elefont. And San Francisco was Ransom. Steve Jobs decided to name them all after world class cities when he discovered that Susan and Andy Hertzfeld had named them after cities on a train that ran out of Philadelphia, from which they both hailed.

There is no good reason to post this except that I really like the original Mac fonts. I love their sweetness and innocence. They are also pretty darn gorgeous!

Another birthday story

2007-04-15T21:38:00.000-04:00

I mentioned this story to a few people who read my previous post. I wrote it 9 years ago. I said I would post it. So, without further ado:

What I Did On My 44th Birthday

Today is my 44th birthday. At this moment I am sitting on a granite ledge, in an oak wood, above the bay. A lone gull cries, invisible in the silver-grey clouded sky. The cold wind whispers through the pine. Last years’ oak leaves rustle dry on the ground. Peaceful. I chose to spend the anniversary of the day of my birth with my dog, Willow, in the woods.

A few moments ago, as this spot arrived us, I pulled down my jeans and took a poop as can only be taken in the out-of-doors. Each long, sienna-colored turd that oozed out fell softly into the crisp oak leaves. With a sense of reckless extravagance, as much as from experience, I moved my squat with each one. If you take a big poop, it can pile up and poke you in the butt.

This is a pleasure of mine. To shit outside.

Willow caught the scent and came over to investigate. O.K. He sniffed. He’s done it before. He is after all a d-o-g. Then, tentatively, he began to eat one. Hmmm. I don’t object when he eats deer poop or horse shit. “Predigested protein. It’s good for him.” So, I swallowed hard, did my best to turn off my judgment and watched a bit squeamishly as he ate. He followed my roving squats and polished off each turd. I thought, “You won’t be licking me for a long, long time!”

And then—I saw it in my peripheral vision as I squatted 5 feet away with my pants around my ankles and so, was powerless to stop it,—he rolled. His neck, chest, and his collar. It clung to the collar and tags in great fudge-soft globs. All I could do was laugh. And laugh.

What else could I do?

Then, he shook. I was splattered with my own shit like bacon fat. So, I laughed more as I dug through the leaves to reach the leaf mold, the fragrant decay of trees and a thousand other lives that have passed through this area for eons. And I scrubbed me and I scrubbed Willow. And we both dug and rolled in the soft, savory soil.

The sweet, earthy aroma rose into the April air like a balm or incense in a holy temple.

And so, we were cleansed.

How I spent my 53rd birthday

2007-04-07T10:22:00.000-04:00

I woke up. I don't remember when. Later than when I go to work. I didn't go to work. We get our birthdays off.

I tagged a lot of my mp3 collection. I cleaned up a lot of my hard drive. I stayed in bed a lot of the day. Weeeee! (Is she being sarcastic?)

The first call of the day was from C.M-G. who, when I answered, put the phone down with a thud and immediately started playing Happy Birthday on the piano in the halting and embellished sweet way that she does.

I got an invite from F.S. & P.S. to do my laundry in their new washing machine. (Remember, I have no use of my drains right now, hence no practical use of water either.)

F.S. gave me a pack of 6 chocolate Klondike bars and a quart of Rich Chocolate ice cream. P.S. and I ate 3 bars each. F.S. abstained as she is observing Lent. She gave up ice cream.

P.S. gave me a tiny stuffed bear. He did not shoot it. It lived near his computer and once, while helping him with something, I commented on it. I found it in my shoe when I went to leave.

I received an amazingly fitting, and hysterically terrifying story about work, entitled Her Goal was Survival from colleague and friend L.J.L.

Without intending to hurt anyone, I am compelled to say, the story was my favorite gift. I laughed so hard I ached.

I got a few emails, including one from my big sister. I got a phone call from my middle sister and several phone messages from friends. I received a few cards I still haven't opened. I don't know why. Mail has become something I toss aside. Sometimes with expensive consequences.

I spread seed on the snow covered roof of my tiny back porch. My bedroom window looks right over it. The seed attracted all kinds of early spring sparrows, finches and juncos. I took pictures of them.

Now, I have no batteries for my camera. My rechargeables don't hold a charge any more.

I’m sure there was more but darned if I can recall. Short term memory loss can be a drag.

Lisa Vollrath is at it again...

2007-04-02T18:06:00.001-04:00

Lisa is a multimedia artist/craftswoman extraordinaire. She is generous to boot. So, go to her site(s) and grab some of the free stuff she is giving away for your crafting/art pleasure.

(Click on the title of this post to go to Lisa's give-away.)

Zombies at Work

2007-04-01T14:47:00.000-04:00

Friday at work, whilst visiting a colleague in her office, I happened to glance out the window. To my dismay I spotted a single macabre hand coming very slowly up out of the frozen ground.

It would seem our agency may have built it's new buildings on an ancient burial ground.

Since the ground is still frozen and so far only one zombie is emerging, we figure we have a little time before they get in and start chewing off our faces.

Whatever. It might be a better fate than a 5-day work week.

“It wasn’t an alligator. It was a dog.”

2007-03-15T20:27:00.000-04:00

On the ride back from our fair state’s capital (after attending a press conference about domestic violence legislation in which our Senate President mentioned the stat that 1 in 4 women is assaulted by an intimate partner and that if 1 in 4 cars were stolen martial law would be imposed) we got talking.

Talking ’bout all manner of things: seizure inducing lights on school buses; the assassination of Gaius Julius Caesar; John Wesley; Brutus vs. Bluto; what might happen if cases of Kotex™ and Tampax™ were air dropped and landed in our rivers and streams; and the topic that almost got us killed by yours truly unable to see for the tears in my eyes and the the paroxysms of painful laughter afflicting me: my dashboard ornament and how it reminded my friend of, well, it's hard to explain but it left us with an idea. Below is a work in progress:

snot what you think

2007-03-10T08:45:00.000-05:00

I went to sleep early, warm and toasty.

I woke up sick.

I am snotty and stuffed and it feels like gobs of green and yellow goo are swirling and sinking into my lungs.

I would really like a wife or a mother to come and cook me a nice breakfast, bring me tea, fluff my pillow, haul wood in and make a nice fire, kiss my forehead.

Instead I will crap in a bucket, wipe my hands with baby wipes (of which I am running perilously low) fix a cup of tea, have toast w/peanut butter, drag my pathetic ass up off the couch and bring in a few sticks of wood.

Lisa Vollrath gives it away...

2007-03-04T18:54:00.000-05:00

Lisa is one of the internet's most generous artists. She routinely posts free clipart, tips, discounted products and more on her sites.

Beginning March 6th she is offering a countdown to St. Patrick's Day that reveals "a new paper crafting surprise" each day. Check it out yourself: Lisa's St. Patrick's Day Countdown.

Patrick must have suffered greatly being captured and taken from his family as a young man and made a slave. After escaping his captors six years later, he returned to Ireland to fulfill direction he heard in his prayers from God to bring Christianity to Ireland. He no doubt met with resistance from Druid Priests. As any a wise missionary will do, Patrick used many of the practices of the time and incorporated them in the religious Christian practices he was bringing to the natives of Ireland at the time. The most recognizable of these being the Sun symbol he took from Druid practice and placed at the center of the Christian cross...

and the shamrock he used to "prove" the trinity.

If you think bringing Christianity to Ireland by an Englishman was a good thing, you will give thanks to Patrick.

If you thing bringing free stuff to you by an artist is a good thing, you will give thanks to Lisa!

Sitting inside on a sunny day

2007-02-25T12:53:00.000-05:00

I wish this was me playing but it ain't. Anyway, it says what I'm feeling today...

Bonasa umbellus

2007-02-19T15:04:00.000-05:00

Sitting on the couch, which is about all I do these days, some motion outside my window caught my eye. Upon inspection from my bedroom window I discovered I had four Ruffed Grouse eating buds on one of my apple trees. I was never able to get a shot of all four as they were scattered widely in the tree.

Bonasa umbellus, by the way, comes from the drumming sound this grouse makes, which was thought to sound like the bellowing of a bull bonasus or European bison.

Greyhounds

2007-02-19T14:46:00.000-05:00

My friend and colleague LJL took me to a Greyhound Meet ’n’ Greet a while back.

I had the pleasure of going with her and her mother while they picked a dog several months ago. Star was the first one they brought out. A fairly young adoptee, by greyhound racing dog retiree standards. She wasn't a good race dog. To her advantage, because now she gets to live in a home and sleep on a couch instead of living crammed into a crate most of the time. Thank dog.

Here she is along with a few other shots.

Tell me, tell me, tell me true

2007-02-19T10:48:00.000-05:00

What?

2007-02-19T09:57:00.000-05:00

Church Sign Generator

A moment of silence, please. Then go raise hell...

2007-02-03T13:22:00.000-05:00

Molly Ivins Tribute
MOLLY IVINS BEGAN WRITING HER SYNDICATED COLUMN FOR CREATORS SYNDICATE IN 1992. ANTHONY ZURCHER IS A CREATORS SYNDICATE EDITOR BASED IN AUSTIN, TEXAS, AND HE HAS BEEN MOLLY'S EDITOR AND FRIEND FOR MANY YEARS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION. -- CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.

MOLLY IVINS TRIBUTE
BY ANTHONY ZURCHER

Goodbye, Molly I.
Molly Ivins is gone, and her words will never grace these pages again -- for this, we will mourn. But Molly wasn't the type of woman who would want us to grieve. More likely, she'd say something like, "Hang in there, keep fightin' for freedom, raise more hell, and don't forget to laugh, too."

If there was one thing Molly wanted us to understand, it's that the world of politics is absurd. Since we can't cry, we might as well laugh. And in case we ever forgot, Molly would remind us, several times a week, in her own unique style.

Shortly after becoming editor of Molly Ivins' syndicated column, I learned one of my most important jobs was to tell her newspaper clients that, yes, Molly meant to write it that way. We called her linguistic peculiarities "Molly-isms." Administration officials were "Bushies," government was in fact spelled "guvment," business was "bidness." And if someone was "madder than a peach orchard boar," well, he was quite mad indeed.

Of course, having grown up in Texas, all of this made sense to me. But to newspaper editors in Seattle, Chicago, Detroit and beyond -- Yankee land, as Molly would say -- her folksy language could be a mystery. "That's just Molly being Molly," I would explain and leave it at that.

But there was more to Molly Ivins than insightful political commentary packaged in an aw-shucks Southern charm. In the coming days, much will be made of Molly's contributions to the liberal cause, how important she was as an authentic female voice on opinion pages across the country, her passionate and eloquent defense of the poorest and the weakest among us against the corruption of the most powerful, and the joy she took in celebrating the uniqueness of American culture -- and all of this is true. But more than that, Molly Ivins was a woman who loved and cared deeply for the world around her. And her warm and generous spirit was apparent in all her words and deeds.

Molly's work was truly her passion.

She would regularly turn down lucrative speaking engagements to give rally-the-troops speeches at liberalism's loneliest outposts. And when she did rub elbows with the highfalutin' well-to-do, the encounter would invariably end up as comedic grist in future columns.

For a woman who made a profession of offering her opinion to others, Molly was remarkably humble. She was known for hosting unforgettable parties at her Austin home, which would feature rollicking political discussions, and impromptu poetry recitals and satirical songs. At one such event, I noticed her dining table was littered with various awards and distinguished speaker plaques, put to use as trivets for steaming plates of tamales, chili and fajita meat. When I called this to her attention, Molly matter-of-factly replied, "Well, what else am I going to do with 'em?"

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Molly's life is the love she engendered from her legions of fans. If Molly missed a column for any reason, her newspapers would hear about it the next day. As word of Molly's illness spread, the letters, cards, e-mails and gifts poured in.

Even as Molly fought her last battle with cancer, she continued to make public appearances. When she was too weak to write, she dictated her final two columns. Although her body was failing, she still had so much to say. Last fall, before an audience at the University of Texas, her voice began as barely a whisper. But as she went on, she drew strength from the standing-room-only crowd until, at the end of the hour, she was forcefully imploring the students to get involved and make a difference. As Molly once wrote, "Politics is not a picture on a wall or a television sitcom that you can decide you don't much care for."

For me, Molly's greatest words of wisdom came with three children's books she gave my son when he was born. In her inimitable way, she captured the spirit of each in one-sentence inscriptions. In "Alice in Wonderland," she offered, "Here's to six impossible things before breakfast." For "The Wind in the Willows," it was, "May you have Toad's zest for life." And in "The Little Prince," she wrote, "May your heart always see clearly."

Like the Little Prince, Molly Ivins has left us for a journey of her own. But while she was here, her heart never failed to see clear and true -- and for that, we can all be grateful.

To find out more about Molly Ivins and read her past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com.
COPYRIGHT 2007 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.

It's been a long long long time

2007-02-03T13:01:00.000-05:00

It's been months since I've blogged. Dark days of the soul...

My cat, Slim, seems to have miscarried. She never seemed to have problems. Just went from pregnant to in heat. I never found anything that might have once been embryonic kittens.

She is fine. Healthy, fat even. I had her spayed.

At the moment she is sleeping in her crate.

I am currently sitting on my couch, typing away on my new MacBook:
Processor Name: Intel Core 2 Duo
Processor Speed: 2 GHz
Number Of Processors: 1
Total Number Of Cores: 2
L2 Cache (per processor): 4 MB
Memory: 2 GB

The first laptop I've ever owned.

We finally got snow. My pal, PS, has invited me up for a short walk to look for tracks. I will go in spite of my deeply entrenched lethargy.

I'm listening to: Long, Long, Long by The Beatles

Sex/Kittens

2006-10-15T09:14:00.000-04:00

What is going on!? Two veterinarians told me weeks ago this cat was pregnant. Both telling me she was 5-7 weeks along in the pregnancy. I swear I felt kittens myself. Her abdomen is football shaped, but at times she barely looks pregnant at all.

Since Friday she has been yowling, rolling and pacing. Since Saturday she has been treading with her back legs, arching her back exposing her vulva. Looks and sounds like heat to me!

She is obsessed with catnip.

Saturday, two different vets told me it sounded like inexperienced, early labor.

No bloody discharge? No. No fould smell? No. Eating? Yes.

She is eating as usual, drinking more than usual and using the litter box constantly with little result. She licks her vulva. She is restless but not seeking nest sites. She has taken an interest in the outdoors for the first time since she came in my house.

What is going on!? Is she pregnant or in heat?

The anti-anticipation is a bear! The anticipation is also.

She is sleeping peacefully at the moment. I am not.

Pregnant cat breaks sound barrier!

2006-10-01T15:26:00.000-04:00

This morning my friend PS and I built a catwalk.

Slim has not stopped running upthepoleacrosstheplankdownontothewindowsilloverthe couchontotheflooracrossthefloorandupthepole since it went up!

She hurls herself with such fervor I am almost afraid she is going to fling herself right off into space! She just keeps going around and around, snorts and occassionally, collapses on the floor, snorts again, rests for 5 seconds and starts it all over again.

Oh, I wish I had thought of this years ago for Toe!

Here then, for your viewing pleasure:
(remember, you can click on an image to see a large version)

If you have a cat, go out and do this now! At least the post; wrap it with sisal rope or a sisal runner. I will soon be replacing the runner (given to me by wonderful Linnette) with sisal rope. 3/8 inch. I think any cat would appreciate it!

If you build it, (t)he(y) will come.

2006-09-30T12:53:00.000-04:00

I am going to build a catwalk. Guess for whom.

Today I bought a 4x4 x 8' cedar post and a 2x6 x 10' spruce plank. I am anchoring the post to the floor with deck mounts and the plank to the post and wall with 90° angle brackets. I was unable to find sisal rope but I plan to wrap the post with it. I might paint the bottom and sides of the plank with bright red paint.

I might just take a nap and and sack the whole project. At least for today.

I have been invited to go up the road about 3:00 to an apple pressing gathering. I will go in spite of my lack of energy.

Happy Birthday, Soph!

2006-09-20T07:09:00.000-04:00

Taming the Tiger
Joni Mitchell

I stepped outside to breathe the air
And stare up at the stars
Big dipper hanging there
Over the rented car
Over the rented car
I’m a runaway from the record biz
From the hoods in the hood and the whiny white kids
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And I’m taming the tiger
(You can't tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright

Sophia says “It’s hard to catch
And harder still to ride
The time to watch the beast the best
Is when it’s purring at your side”
Purring at your side
Accolades and honors
One false move and you’re a goner
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And I’m taming the tiger
(You can’t tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
Tiger, tiger burning bright
In the forest of the night

The moon shed light
On my hopeless plight
As the radio blared so bland
Every disc, a poker chip
Every song just a one night stand
Formula music, girly guile
Genuine junkfood for juveniles
Up and down the dial
Mercenary style

I watched the stars chuck down their spears
And a plane went blinking by
And I thought of Anna
Wild and dear
Like fireworks in the sky
Fireworks in the sky
I'm so sick of this game
It’s hip, it’s hot
Life’s too short, the whole thing’s gotten
Boring!
The old man is snoring
And I’m taming the tiger
(You can’t tame the tiger)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(Boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(You can’t tame the tiger)
Oh, be nice, kitty kitty
(Boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
Nice, kitty kitty
(Boring, boring!)
Tiger, tiger burning bright
(Fight to the light, fight to the light)
In the forest of the night

Copyright©1998 Joni Mitchell

Companions

2006-09-17T13:35:00.000-04:00

We all like havin’ something to do. Take a look:

Skidboot

Alembic

2006-09-10T14:57:00.000-04:00

Red Stone Redemption
22" x 4"

Items used: wooden box from a yard sale, brass point from some sort of antique tool, glass creamer bottle, red glass marble, quartz crystal, American white pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) skull found in the 1970s in Florida, scrap metal found in an old farm dump, metal spring from a 1950s room thermometer and copper tacks.

Detail of Red Stone Redemption showing brass point, red marble in cream bottle and white quartz crystal.

Oy vay iz mir

2006-09-09T11:06:00.000-04:00

I think Slim is pregnant.

Cat! Cluck! Cat!

2006-08-27T12:24:00.000-04:00

Pheasant in upper left of photo

I was sitting at my desk, which looks out into the fields to the west of my house. I heard a “Cluck. Cluck. Cluck.” Its tone sounded like the pheasant but I am used to hearing him crow not cluck.

He was just standing, long-necked in the middle of the mowed area under my hanging feeder. Something was different.

I went at once to the screened in porch and saw Slim, for the first time, relaxed and taking an interest in being on the porch. It explained the pheasant’s long-necked stance and his clucking, immediately!

The pheasant clucking and standing there sure explained her interest.

Knew cat

2006-08-26T09:00:00.000-04:00

A friend from work had borrowed my kayak. I store it in my neighbor PS’s garage. So, we were up the hill across the road to take the kayak off the roof of her Jeep. I was putting the paddles off to the side of the garage and saw something bolt into the woods. I thought it was a hare but that didn’t quite ring true. I didn’t think much more about it.

Then, as we were pulling the kayak off the roof of her Jeep, we both saw a long, skinny cat bolt across the driveway and into the woods. I think I might have walked over to where it bolted and called. I don’t remember anymore.

Several days later I saw the cat in my driveway close to the road. I called to it and it bolted again. Tuesday, August 15th, I pulled into the drive and saw it at the far end, up by the house. I stopped the car, got out and called gently. It stayed still. I crawled, literally on my belly, through the grass, calling softly to it.

The cat let me get quite close before bolting. I figured it was gone. I walked out to the back porch and saw it sitting in the mowed path by the bird bath. I called again and came in the house and got the only thing I could find in my vegetarian home to feed it: half and half. The cat was gone when I went back out. I walked out the side door and it was once again in the driveway; only now, walking out toward the road. I called and offered the cream. It creeped carefuly toward the bowl as I backed off. It drained the bowl and kept licking, almost chewing on the glass bowl itself.

I went back in and got some yogurt, mixed in nutritional yeast and offerd it the same way. Again, the cat drained the bowl. As it was eating I went around the side of the house and ran to a neighbors, found the stashed key, let myself in looking for canned cat food. I couldn’t find any! I spotted a can of Alaskan salmon. I grabbed it, locked the door, stashed the key and ran back.

The first, tentative step towards me and away from the salmon

I put a bowlful on the mat at the bottom of my stairs and sat at the top of the stairs. The cat approached cautiously and ate; then tentatively walked up and bonked my hand with its head. I stood up and opened the door and it came in. The cat hissed a wide, open mouthed, fierce hiss anytime we were both walking toward the food bowl.

I wore my knee-high, black rubber boots in the house for the first night and the second day, in case the cat was inclined to attack.

It was not. Never once tried to scratch or bite me. It easily allowed me to approach as it was eating, and even take the bowl away. The cat let me pet it, pick it up and quickly made itself comfortable on the back pillow of the couch.

She has been here ever since. She is very skinny! Eating and sleeping. A tiny bit of play. Friendly. Lets me pat her and carry her and has met two friends without running away. Greeted them like old friends.

She weighed 4 pounds the first day I got her. She’s clean, no sign of ear mites, maybe a flea or two, certainly no infestation. She took right to a litter box, doesn’t scratch furniture, uses a cardboard scratching box I bought. I plan to make or buy a more permenent scratching post.

I’ve named her Slim. Only my fiend and one of my sisters knew immediately what the reference was: Lauren Bacall in To Have and Have Not. Slim was the name of Lauren Bacall’s character. The director, Howard Hawks, chose the nickname for the Bacall character, Marie, because it was the nickname (bestowed upon her by William Powell) of his wife, Nancy Gross (later and better kown as Slim Keith). After seeing Bacall on the cover of Harper’s, Slim suggested her to Hawks for the role in Bacall’s first movie, To Have and Have Not.

This little, skinny, cat certainly had not. Now she has. And she is as slim as Slim can be. I am touched that she persisted and found me. I am glad she decided to stay.

Phood, Phiend and Phenomena

2006-08-13T11:56:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I reclined (would someone please find a way to teach me, once and for all, how to use: lie/lay/lain/laid [OK. Enough, potty brains...]) in my stargazer chaise. It was a rare day, windy enough and with what must have been several other natural phenomena coinciding so as to produce a day in Maine, on the coast, in August, with absolutely no biting insects!

Later, I met up with my Fiend. We took a lovely walk on Marlboro Beach and saw 2 rainbows. One was a double. This beach is where we often walked with my dog, Willow. Fiend said they were Willow Wainbows...

We had dinner at a gourmet vegan restaurant. We shared a tomato tart in an light, flakey filo dough, homemade breadsticks with olive oil and green olive butter (no dairy) and a “Pat and Mike” salad of fresh, local baby greens (we chose it in honor of Kate Hepburn, whom we both love, but we have no idea why the restaurant calls it that). I had their Bento Box: edamame, grilled tofu, nori rolls, baby bok choy and hiziki salad.

This is a traditional Japanese Bento Box

We each sipped soy milk lattes after dinner. Mine decafe. Fiend’s, leaded.

After the meal, we walked through town to the car and then we drove to the summit of Cadillac mountain. At 1,532 feet, it is the highest point along the North Atlantic seaboard. It was pushed up by Earth’s tectonic and volcanic forces millions of years ago. It was swarming like an ant hill with touristas. Summer is not the time to do this. Unless you are a tourista.

I drove us back to where my Fiend had left her car and as we were saying goodnight, I spotted a meteorite burning up in Earth’s atmosphere. I hurried home where I spotted several more earthgrazers before the moon rose. Earthgrazers are meteors that skim the top of Earth’s atmosphere sort of like a stone skipping across water. They appear when the radiant of a meteor shower is near the horizon, spewing meteoroids not down, but horizontally overhead.

The term meteor comes from the Greek meteoron, meaning phenomenon in the sky. Indeed.

Where is my mother?

2006-08-08T10:17:00.000-04:00

Today is the seventh anniversary of the death of my mother.

Odd.

I flew to Denver when she died, to be with my sister and deal with the cremation. A local funeral parlor handled "the body."

My sister lives in a racially diverse neighborhood and chose a black owned business. We stood out like funeral lilies. And, frankly, we were treated like shit. As were the doves they had crammed into a cage and stored in almost total darkness. (The doves are used to "set free" at the request of some funeral customers to symbolize the freedom of the soul after death. Yeah. Crammed and caged and suffering in the dark?)

Anyway. My dead mother was in a yellow hospital johnny and laying on a stretcher when we got there. We were in a basement room with only very uncomfortable, metal folding chairs to sit on. We sat on them only after I wrestled them out of the tangle leaning against the wall and set them up for my sister and me.

We talked to our mother...told her of all the shitty things she did to us and told us about ourselves and how so much of it still hurts. We told her about the amazing, creative, funny, talented woman we could barely, but always, see behind the morass of depression and alcohol. We laughed. We cried. We patted her waxy, hard, yellow skin.

We said good bye. I said a prayer for the doves.

We next saw her at the crematorium. Well, not her, but the box she was in. She wanted no special service or consideration. We watched as the waxed cardboard box was slid into the furnace. We left.

I do not remember what my sister and I did next. Probably ate ice cream.

knots 2 u

2006-07-26T18:44:00.000-04:00

yesterday at 2:20PM i was one thing. by 2:27PM i was given the information i was to be something else.

.

today. i am something else, indeed.

cryptic enough for ya?

well, that’s is sort of how it feels.

a murder of crimson crows

2006-07-25T06:06:00.000-04:00

Meshugeh

2006-07-24T20:23:00.000-04:00

A brick shy of a load, around the bend, balmy, bananas, bats in my belfry, batty, bizarre, bonkers, buggy, cracked, crackers, crackpot, crazed, crazy as a coot, crazy as a loon, cuckoo, daffy, daft, delusional, demented, deranged, ding-a-ling, dingbat, dippy, disturbed, fruit loops, fruitcake, gaga, half-baked, insane, kook, loco, looney-tunes, loony, loopy, lost me marbles, lunatic, mad, mad as a hatter, not all there, lost me marbles, not playing with a full deck, not right in me head, nutcase, nuts, nutter, nutty as a fruitcake, off me dot, off me rocker, out of me head, out of me mind, out to lunch, potty, psycho, psychotic, screw loose, screwball, screwy, sick, soft in me head, teched, touched, touched in me head, unbalanced, unhinged, wacko, wacky, warped, whacked.

Nuff sed?

The sprain in Maine

2006-07-17T11:59:00.000-04:00

I am home from work today.

Why? Because I sprained my right ankle on Saturday.

I was invited to go sailing aboard a 35' Baba with my close friends and neighbors. We were going out for 12+ hours and hoped, with the right wind to get out to where we were likely to see whales.

The wind was not right to sail to the most likely place to see whales. So, we sailed and motored over to Cranberry Isles, an island town comprised of several islands. On the way, we did see a Minke whale. We got off on Baker Island to the southeast of Mount Desert Island.

This is a shot of The Baker Island Light Station. It marks the southwestern entrance to Frenchman Bay. The 43' high brick lighthouse (105 foot high focal plane) is located on the eastern coast and was built per order of then President, Quincy Adams to warn mariners of the treacherous shoals around the Cranberry Islands and the sand bar that connects it with Little Cranberry Island.

The Baker Island “Dance Floor,” is gorgeous, pink granite slab surrounded by piles of huge granite chunks. This is LBE. She is not resting. She is doing a private Pas de Deus with the granite. It was lovely to watch. She rolled and twisted and hung cantilevered and did a slow dance with the slow moving rocks.

After an hour or so, each of us taking time to ourselves to dance, nap, read, we walked back to where we tied up the tender. Within 100' of the shore as I was walking, talking about Northern Cardinals with Marco, I turned my ankle in a wagon wheel rut and ouch!

I sat down immediately. After a few moments of rest and using Marco as a crutch, I hobbled back to the tender. Getting out of the tender without tipping, up the convex side of the boat, (known for its high water line) over the gunwale and in was not easy.

But friends LBE and SBE helped and encouraged. LBE got an icepack from the cooler, and after rubbing a healthy dose of Arnica (an anti-inflammatory, pain reliever and a local antibiotic, that is used for dislocations, sprains, bruises, chilblains, and varicose ulcers. It helps to prevent bruising and swelling after traumatic injuries and prevents bruising at the site of injury.) gel on the sprain, wrapped my ankle with an ace bandage to hold the ice pack in place. I was able to recline on the bench with my leg up on the side deck and my foot elevated on the gunwale.

Always prepared, LBE had Rescue Remedy on board. Rescue Remedy is a combination of Bach Flower Essences (Star of Bethlehem: trauma and shock; Clematis: the tendency to faint and unconsciousness, being ‘far away’ and not present mentally; Cherry Plum: fear of mind giving way, verge of breakdown; Impatiens: irritability and tension; Rock Rose: terror and panic) that is beneficial when one finds oneself in traumatic situations, such as stress, emergencies, after getting bad news, before an exam or job interview and all other kind of situations where one may suddenly loose emotional balance. The Essences help to quickly get us back in balance so that we may calmly cope better with a situation.) I took several drops in my drinking water.

We did all the right things soon after the injury. So. I’m in pretty good shape but I knew that being in our new office with its flight of stairs would not be a good idea for me today. I’m home trying to keep my foot elevated and resting.

warm

2006-07-14T21:39:00.000-04:00

It is 9:35 PM. It is also 84 freekin’ degrees in the house.

I am cranky.

Tough shit.

Hummer in hand

2006-07-13T20:05:00.000-04:00

Take a close look. The little blighter has actually landed on my finger!
(click image to see enlargement)

By the way. If you put up hummer feeders it is really best not to use the colored premade-crap-kind of nectar. Food coloring is bad enough for us bigguns never mind a critter as small as a hummingbird. It is also so much cheaper to make your own. Sugar and water. That's it.

Here's the recipe for the syrup:

Use one part ordinary white cane sugar to four parts water.
It's not necessary to boil the water. The microorganisms that cause fermentation don't come from the water; they are transported to the feeder on hummingbird bills.
Store unused syrup in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.

This is an all around great hummer info site: http://www.hummingbirds.net/index.html
Read this if you care to know more about dye in hummer food: http://www.hummingbirds.net/dye.html

Also try to find a feeder with a perch. While they have no problem feeding with out one, every ounce of energy they can save is a huge help to survival.

Photos were all taken holding the camera in my right hand while holding the feeder in the other hand.

ruby and rufous

2006-07-13T19:39:00.000-04:00

Here then, for those wanting to know, are photos showing the difference between Rufous (Selasphorus rufus) and Ruby-throated (Archilochus colubris) hummingbirds. The Rufous is a decidedly western bird. The Ruby-throated decidedly eastern.

I have no idea who Paul Conover is. I could guess, a bird photographer.

some things I did today

2006-07-10T19:59:00.000-04:00

I drove 100 miles to give a presentation to 7 cosmetologists, aka: “hair care workers.”

I watched the episode The Brave and The Backache of The Dick Van Dyke Show and marveled at what a physical comedic genius Dick Van Dyke is (was).

I found this under my bird feeder:

And I found these all over my yard:

The Final Frontier

2006-07-03T21:54:00.000-04:00

I went out this evening, well, not out-out; the mosquitoes are easily, not kidding, in the millions tonight, but out on my screened porch and then run-fast-quick out to my car, to watch the International Space Station orbit overhead. A perfect night to view it from this part of New England as the skies were clear, the sun was just down giving the ISS a lot of shine and early enough for me to still be awake.

In just 3 minutes that thing, hurtling through space rose WNW, glided overhead SSW and darkened from view SE as it entered Earth’s shadow. As I sat in my car and watched through binoculars at this spacecraft shining like a sharp, bright star, I could not help but find it astonishing to consider there are people in it!

The highlighted circle is the region where the satellite was at least 10° above my horizon. (The size of the circle depends on the height of the satellite.)

Solid part of orbit shows where the satellite was sunlit, and the dashed part where it went into the Earth’s shadow and was rendered invisible. That occured about 9:20PM.

Berry good to know

2006-06-28T17:44:00.000-04:00

I stopped to buy fresh, organic, local, gorgeous strawberries on my drive home from work today.

Earlier, I had packed several items from my office and had them in the back of my car (we are moving and I am taking some personal things home). I was balancing all these things with the strawberries (do you see where this is leading?) on top.

I got to the door. As I was fumbling with the key I saw the berry box tipping. I spoke firmly, “you are not allowed to fall!”

It obeyed and stayed put as I opened the door. As I was about to set the whole mini-tower of items down, the box toppled and berries rolled all over my not very well swept floor.

OK. I was amused. I can take a cosmic joke.

I began to pick them up and saw something unfamiliar, organic and vaguely frighteneng in the corner by one side of my door jamb. I very deliberately finished the berry project. I brought them to the sink to rinse and when I finished that task returned hesitatingly to the odd formation.

I got out a flashlight and a large hand lens to have a better look. It looked like moist sawdust, but not as clean. In a fit of sqeemishness I grabbed a broom and swept it all outside. My animal-self, my intuitive knowing self knew what it was! I went to the internet and typed in “carpenter ant sign.”

I know what you’re thinking: Carptenter ant frass.

Yes. Damn.

If the berries had not spilled, how long might that have sat quietly in the dark corner by the edge of my door. How much more damage would the ants have done? Now I have to figure out what I want to do to get rid of: The Queen! Oh god, I am actually plotting to overthrow The Queen!

Only one queen per colony. Queenie can, however, lay thousands of eggs in her lifetime, including what are called swarmers, some of which will go off to become queens in new colonies.

Contrary to popular belief, carpenter ants don’t eat wood. They do dig out galleries (rooms and hallways) in it. Excavated chambers are used to store eggs, larvae, and pupae.

Carpenter Ants are an important food source for woodpeckers. Pileated Woodpeckers are known for rooting out and eating entire colonies.

Carpenter Ants are actually helpful, have value even because they help break down dead wood, old trees, stumps, logs. But let me hasten to add they can be a problem when they enter homes or start colonies in wooden objects, such as walls or poles. Usually ants enter wood that is already damaged, but the ants can make it worse.

So really, carpenter ants are more often a sign that you already have wood damage. They aren't the primary problem. I’ve known for years I was at risk for wood rot in this house. I will deal.

Tomorrow.

Right now I have a quart of fresh, organic, local, gorgeous strawberries to eat.

And now for something completely different

2006-06-27T19:24:00.000-04:00

Guess...

I'm listening to Paul Avgerinos "Flying And Floating" from: Sky Of Grace
(Which, by the way, I will never listen to again!)

Morning has broken...

2006-06-22T07:08:00.000-04:00

I’m supposed to be getting ready for work. I don’t want to. You can't make me.

What I am doing is looking at some great new blogs. They are linked on my site. Bad Guitar and Haiku Ambulance.

I am thinking how sad it is that I can’t figure out how to get paid to sit home naked, or in my red robe on chilly days, and swing in my hammock listening to white-throated sparrows, juncos and goldfinches trilling, chirping and per-chick-a reeing away all morning. Or reading. Me, not the birds (but who knows what they do in the privacy of their own branches.)

Or making arty things or napping.

But I can’t figure out how to get paid to do those things and so I will haul myself out of this 1940s swivel, desk chair for which I paid 7 dollars and get dressed. And go to work. And listen to stories about 2 month old babies being literally snatched out of mother’s arms and are now being held hostage; being strangled and waking up in the ER; or raped unconcious by your own boyfriend and how the DA can’t win the cases or it’s not against the law anyway.

I will think about and mime, several times during the day, shoving a pencil into my left temple until it comes out the other side. I will not do it. I will go home and eat ice cream for dinner and wonder why I am over weight.

I will think about developing heathier coping strategies. I will wish I’d written “If I had a Rocket Launcher” but be glad that Bruce Cockburn did.

Someone had to.

I am in love...

2006-06-21T06:55:00.000-04:00

How I wish I had a good stop-action digital camera. Most of the bird photos I take are shot with a very slow digital camera, hand held up to the the lens of my binoculars, through a screen and very optically imperfect window glass!
—grumble of the day.

Bird Shadow Box

2006-06-18T12:04:00.000-04:00

Today is Sunday. I hear tell it is Father’s day in The United States of America. OK, Fine.

I woke up at 4:00. I did a bit of art. And I am working on re-classifying my Exotica MP3s as Easy Listening with exotica in the Comments field. Fascinating.

It’s almost time for lunch.

Home for a Day

2006-06-17T13:14:00.000-04:00

I was home from work yesterday. Just not feeling OK. No clear illness. Just off kilter. Don’t want to get sick, as I watch my colleagues drop like flies with allergies, influenza, colds...

So, I made a this. It’s 5x7 inches. Mixed media on canvas.

Phasianus colchicus

2006-06-14T18:18:00.000-04:00

I’ve been away. I am back. This fellow greeted me upon my return home.

Dear deer

2006-05-24T05:39:00.000-04:00

I just (5:37 am) sat down at my desk and thought “I haven’t seen a deer pass through my yard in a long time” (since April 2005). I looked out the window across the bird- feeding station, out towards the apple trees and there appearing as if from a mist, was a large deer.

Thank you.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

2006-05-09T13:54:00.000-04:00

I just called the National Weather Service on the secret telephone number I was given upon completing the Weather Spotter training. They are going to call the Forest Service. I also alerted my local 911.

The sky is filled with smoke to the point that I find it an irritant to comfortable breathing.

Listening in on my neighbor’s scanner we hear: there is “an unattended controlled fire” in Eastbrook. They also called it an ”out of control brush fire.”

What the heck is “an unattended controlled fire”?

Anyway. Seems I may have saved the day.

Humming dinger of a day

2006-05-07T14:38:00.000-04:00

Ruby-throated hummingbirds are back. I dashed this little sketch off as I was listening to one zoom back and forth in its arc flight. It’s a territorial/courtship display. Very fun to watch.

Also, while at the computer making the sketch, a man I see, maybe, once a year called me. On the telephone. He called me! And, I love this, he called to ask how high the new flycatcher nest box he got should be mounted! (10-15 feet). That’s it. We didn’t chat or make small talk. He asked, I answered, he thanked me. We hung up. He called back to ask if he could use straw in place of the inch or so of wood shavings I suggested he add to the bottom of the box. I encouraged the use of shavings to avoid the mold or mildew that straw might be prone to developing. He said “yep, OK,” thanked me again and we hung up. This was the highlight of my day. A sweet, pleasant, little gift of being able to give to someone who remembered me for who I am. Thanks. Really.

Close Encounter of the Bird Kind

2006-05-07T05:53:00.000-04:00

Early yesterday morning I saw a cat in the woods and thought it might have been a neighbor’s cat who had long ago gone missing, or another cat she might have gotten. I called her and she came up as soon as she was able to pull on her ole Bean boots (the real deal here, folks).

As we walked out into my yard to try to find the cat, a chickadee landed on my head and then slid down my hair trying to pull one out.

My neighbor ran in and grabbed my camera.

The cat turned out not to be hers. But we now know that there is a feral, long-haired, Maine Coon cat out there somewhere.

And a tame, wild Black-capped chickadee.

They’re baaaa-aack!

2006-04-30T12:27:00.000-04:00

I went out for a long walk around the shoreline with my brother-in-love. The blackflies have definately hatched. There were none out yesterday.

It takes a female blackfly about a week to develop eggs after a blood meal. A clutch is anywhere from about 50–700 eggs. It takes between 4–30 days for egg development, depending on temperature. A single blackfly may live as long as a year. On average a female lives 4 weeks, a male, less.

Predators of blackflies are bats, small birds (such as phoebes, flycatchers and swallows) midges, dragonflies and damselflies. Blackflies breed in clean running water (such as the Stream of Consciousness that runs the boundry line of most of my land). The blackfly season in Maine is from about May through July.

Where have you been!?

2006-04-30T06:18:00.000-04:00

Countries I’ve been in.

Such a tiny bit of the planet, isn’t it?

US states I’ve been in.

I may have missed one or two but they are not calling out to me at this moment...

Cool, Clear Water

2006-04-23T12:30:00.000-04:00

I have a water problem. My water is filled with iron. And it tastes awful. I have had it tested and all is well (no pun intended) but it tastes horrible. And everything gets clogged and gunked up. Shower heads, tap screens, water heater fins. Pots and pans get mineral build up. If I fill the tub to prepare for a power outage, when I drain it a few days later, the tub is covered in rust particle film.

Because of this I had a whole house filter installed years ago. It should be changed every few months.

I am not a squeamish woman. Spiders do not scare me. Rotting carcasses do not gross me out (too much). Yet, I have total heebie-jeebies about going into the crawl-space under the house to do this task. I don’t know why. Subsequently, it rarely gets done and so, all the problems I just described persist in spite of having installed a solution.

A dear neighbor, PS came over today just to be with me as I did the dastardly deed. But, I crawled in and crawled out immediately saying “I have to steel myself” or some such thing. Neighbor heaved his 75 year old, stiff, creaking body down into the crawl space hatch and dragged it along the muddy , animal poop and (remember the earlier post about a rotting carcass under my house?) dried-up-carcass-littered crawl-space floor, over septic drain pipes, and water lines and did the friggin’ job for me.

It is nice to have a friend.

As he drove off on his 4x4 he stopped, turned and smiled saying, “You owe me!”

Indeed, I do.

Next time he mows my lawn on a hot, blackfly and mosquito riddled day, I will offer him a nice, cool, clear drink of water.

[iTunes was playing Leo Kottke’s “Cool Water” by Bob Nolan while I was writing this.]

Day off

2006-04-17T13:40:00.000-04:00

Grey, raining. Slept really late, for me. 8:30! I feel like the day is slipping through my fingers like sand.

Last night and today I have been working on a matchbox reliquary.

I think I may have passed into a new phase of playing/working with tangible media. I seem able to wait out each part of the process. New for me. I more typically rush it and often have wrecked stuff doing so.

The dimensionality of the reliquary is not well conveyed by scanning. I will take photos later. May post them.

I took a drive in the fall of 2005 and stopped by the Fisheries & Wildlife Office in Jonesboro. They gave me a hefty pile of paper goods. I especially liked the 3" x 5.5" cards they gave me of Maine Fish. I knew I wanted to do something with them.

The collage I posted yesterday and this shrine were made with those cards.

Fishes and Hares and Eggs, oh my!

2006-04-16T21:55:00.000-04:00

According to superstition: If it rains on Easter Sunday, it will rain the following seven Sundays. I will keep track...

Easter: Centuries before Jesus, pagan tribes of Europe worshipped a spring goddess named Eostre.

Hares and Eggs. Think about it. Fertility and Birth.

I’ve been making art today.

5x7 collage, acrylic and ink on canvas

Night sounds

2006-04-13T22:36:00.000-04:00

53°

I have been outside for awhile. Part of my evening ritual. I like to go outside, take a long slow draught of the evening, and pee.

It is a gorgeous, soft spring night. No biting insects out yet! Totally engulfed in fog. I can hear Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer), Wood frogs (Rana sylvatica), several American Woodcock (Scolopax minor) and a lone Barred owl (Strix varia) calling.

What a night. If I didn’t have work I would consider sleeping outside or at least going off to the ponds and vernal pools that the froggies are calling from and have a looksee.

Good night, all.

Forgiveness

2006-04-13T20:35:00.000-04:00

I am listening to “Forgiveness” by Ferron. It is a guitar piece from a 1992 album: Resting with the Question. Tonight, it is moving me deeply. I am not aware of the need to forgive but perhaps there is something there...

In 1992, in my computer journal I made three notes:

June 29: Saw a coyote @ Paino’s
May 17: Barb & Robin’s wedding
November 11: Toe weighs 9lbs 12 oz.

The Painos live in Concord, Massachusetts. I was visiting and was one among a group of many. I got up and was standing in their kitchen. I gazed out the window and saw a large coyote trotting along the edge of the field out back.

Barb is a dear friend, who I have not seen in far too many years. No one is more deserving than her to have found a loving mate. Thank you Robin, for loving my friend.

Toe was my beloved pussy cat.

8:52 pm: It has just begun to rain. I suspect that the spring peepers will respond to that with their lively peeping and barking.

(4 / 6) / 1 954 = 0.000341180484

2006-04-06T05:40:00.000-04:00

And so I begin my 53rd orbit around the sun.

The Sun is dated at 4.5 billion years old.

April 6, 1954: U.S. performs atmospheric nuclear test at Bikini Island

April 6, 1954: TV Dinner was 1st put on sale by Swanson and Sons

April 6, 1938: Teflon invented by Roy J Plunkett

April 6, 1930: Hostess Twinkies invented by bakery executive James Dewar

Seen around town

2006-04-04T07:06:00.000-04:00

Tuesday, March 28, 2006 6:25 pm: Barred owl (Strix varia) calling

Friday, March 31, 2006: 2 Fox sparrow (Passerella iliaca) scratching in the ground below the feeders. Dark-eyed juncos (Junco hyemalis) galore.

Saturday, April 1, 2006, 5:48 am: Eastern phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) singing from on of my apple trees!

3:50 pm: Adult male, Pine warbler (Dendroica pinus) feeding on my peanut feeder. I (of course) just missed gettting a photo.

Monday, April 3, 2006: Saw three vultures soaring. I was driving and they were up quite high so I was unable to determine if they were Black or Turkey. American goldfinch (Carduelis tristis) changing plumage. Mourning dove (Zenaida macroura) feathers in a pile in the back yard. Most likely a hawk kill.

Moose tracks were spotted around my neighbor P.S. house earlier this week.

We are all anticipating the arrival of Ursus

Holy smoke...

2006-04-03T19:43:00.000-04:00

...Something is rotten in Denmark. Or I should say, under my house. I wish ’tweren’t true. But, I fear ’tis. True, I mean.

I have red squirrels nesting under my house. Well, they go under and then up. Up into the walls, along the edge of my bathtub.

Taking a bath some evenings is often quite interesting. I occassionally imagine what would happen if, as I soaked, a squirrel suddenly developed the ability to move through walls. Both of us freaking out the instant it materialized on my side of the wall. Naked wet squirrel and naked wet me. Picture: the cartoon drawing of a big messy ball with arms and legs sticking out off and on as it spins. Water flying everywhere.

So. There is a smell in this house that is at once, sweet and at twice, sickly. And the odor is everywhere. No escape. Oy.

I am reminded of the smell that hung in my hospital room 30 years ago. ’twas me ’twas rottin’. My arm. Gas gangrene. I would link a picture but gangrene is really gross. If you must see, Google it. I warned you. You’re on your own.

Like the squirrel.

The point is...

2006-04-02T13:37:00.000-04:00

I went to the local feed store yesterday to buy birdseed. I use large 25 pound bags of it to assist in the indulgence one of my favorite activities: watching the wildlife in the field in which my house was built.

I also needed a small quantity of wood shavings. I use that to line the bottom of the 6 birdhouses I have scattered throughout the field. Shavings are safer than straw or sawdust as they allow air circulation and therefore stay drier. Don’t want wet birdies. In fact, it could kill the nestlings. Hypothermia. Bad.

So. I asked the fellow at the counter if he had any. He replied laconically “Yep, by the bale.” I knew that was far too much for me, as I needed less than 1/2 a grocery bagful. I asked if he had any sweepings in the back. He chuckled and moved on to the next customer.

That fellow promptly ordered 2 bales of shavings. I turned around, smiled and exclaimed “Wow!” I then asked if I could buy a small bagful from him. He had plainly heard my request of the salesman. His response was a brusque “No.”

Period. Harumpf. No laughter, no smile, no sorry, no friendly explanation of what he was going to be using it for. Nothing. No.

Out in the parking lot amid the Saturday morning throng of pickup trucks and SUVs we caught each other’s eye. He walked directly over to me and said “You want wood shavings? All you need is a pine board, a knife and some time.” What I wanted to say about the lovely, sharp and pointy stick I might whittle, remained sealed in my brain. What I said was “Yes, or a nice guy.”

It was lost on him.

I got in my car and drove to a nearby pet store. I used to buy food for my dog there. I suspect the owner didn’t remember me as my hair has grown a lot since Willow died and I now wear it back. I asked if they carried wood shavings. He asked “like for hamsters and guinea pigs?”

I said, “Well, yeah, sort of like that.”

He asked me to follow him. I did. We got to a row of shelves upon which were, among many other things, two different sized bags of wood shavings. He lifted the smallest bag, about the length and width of my whole arm, and said “It’s compressed. This one will fill the whole bottom of that (huge) aquarium.”

I replied that it really was a bit more than I needed as I was only going to pad the bottom of 6 birdhouses in my backyard. In the short moment I stood silent about to ask the price, he smiled and said “Well, then, let me give you some.” We strolled off to where they keep the live animals.

I noted cages of blue and yellow parakeets, sweet pink-hued doves cooing, a gorgeous, brightly diamonded brown snake, and a white ferret who was very excited to see us. I inquired about the snake asking if it was a milk snake. I knew the head was the wrong shape for a milk snake but, I admit, I was trying to impress the young man that I knew something about snakes. He relied simply “No, a boa.”

Not wanting to get sidetracked, or impose further on his generosity, I fought the urge to ask if I could hold it.

He filled a small, elongated plastic bag, the type one might use to carry home several new fish to pour into an aquarium. I thanked him and noted to myself how the entire time I was with him, it never once crossed my mind to whittle a sharp and pointy stick and offer to put it where the sun don’t shine.

Schematic of Pointy vs. Sharp stick courtesy of Charlie B.

Secret gluebook entries

2006-04-02T11:03:00.000-04:00

It has been awhile since I've “blogged” and since I’ve done any play/work in my gluebook. And I have been wanting to do both. The weather and my mood and my energy level finally all came together.

I stole two magazines on Friday from the gym. People drop off old magazines for folks to read while treading on the mill or pedaling on the bikes. I say “stole” but they are really there for the taking. So I took.

The magazine subscriptions I have are to National Wildlife [a lifetime subscription], New England Journey [a publication of AAA] and Natural New England [the subscription to which a friend has given me for several years]. They are all great magazines but don't tend to have showy blocks of print or full page photo spreads that lend themselves to background mood or other images I have been seeking.

Here, then are two entries. The first was done last night.

Click on (any) image in this blog to enlarge the image.

Both entries were done using the magazine W. I had never heard of this magazine before. Where, oh where have I been? I suspect “W” stands for “W”oman rather than “W”alker.

The spread was made using 5 separate pieces. The right page is from three separate torn magazine pages. The white pieces are from different pages and are slightly different colors. The left page is a whole block of heavy, shiny silver-grey. And of course the text “Evening.”

I bet most folks rarely think of what that means when we say it in the context of time of day. I try to. Think of what it means, I mean.

Here is the next page in my gluebook...

“There are certain life-altering secret links to the past.”

This one was more complicated to do. I wondered as I made it if others who do this get as messy and glue-y as I do. I haven't figured out a graceful solution to gluing. I make a mess!

The idea of the page relates to something that has cycled up again in my emotional world.

[I was listening to "Love’s Secret" by Michael Whalen while I was writing this.]
Click the link to listen to an excerpt or buy this tune...

Harbingers

2006-03-13T06:12:00.000-05:00

5:51 am
Just about to walk up my driveway after a walk when I heard far above me the exhilarating sound that I identify as Spring! I looked up to see a flock of about 30 Common grackle (Quiscalus quiscula)! As I hoped, they all landed in the tops of the 2 White Spruce (Picea glauca) on the edge of my land! This is the earliest sighting I have on record in the past 10 years. I have two sightings as early as March 15 (1999 & 2000).

Got the Time?

2006-03-11T13:17:00.000-05:00

Seattle, WA

Boston, MA

New Delhi, India

The Inevitable

2006-03-08T07:12:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning, International Women’s Day, hearing the loud “wick wick wick wick wick” of a Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus).

[Colaptes auratus, by the way, means golden or gilded pecker! OK, OK. I went for the potty joke. Colaptes auratus does mean that, but “pecker” in the sense “to peck like a bird.” The “golden” originally referred only to the yellow-shafted flicker.]

Back to the original point, please.

Hearing the song of a Northern Flicker means that spring, that elusive, yet inevitable season we seem to all crave in late winter, is approaching. The Flicker was singing “Spring.” How do I know? Well, most birds aren’t singing at all in the winter. They have no need, no interest; they have no territories to proclaim, no mates to secure. You will hear birds vocalizing but not singing the “song.”

I’ve noticed Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapilla) singing their Spring song for several weeks. They will occasssionlly do that on a gloriously warm and sunny winter day.

In 1995 I had a dream about Flickers and made a computer “painting” of that dream. Here, then, for your viewing pleasure...

This is my journal entry for 10/18/1995:

“I dreamed a huge 100+ flock of Yellow Shafted Flickers were in 3 clumps in the yard with 2 deer. At least one of the deer had young velvety antlers.”

What a Sight!

2006-03-07T05:34:00.000-05:00

Comet Pojmanski!

4:30 am. 14°. Dressed in my red, ankle length polar fleece robe, standing in my driveway with a birding scope set up and my binoculars strung around my neck, I finally spotted the lovely, pale green fuzzball hovering above a gorgeous, shining cresent Venus.

Check it out before it wings its way back beyond our Sun.

Watching the stars last night?

2006-03-06T11:40:00.000-05:00

I was out watching Jupiter, which of course, is not a star but a planet. It was lovely. I could also see Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto.

They were all dressed far more spectacularly than Jennifer Aniston, or the like...

Planet, from the Greek πλανήτης, planētēs, which means “wanderer.” And, no, I do not speak or write Greek. But I do Google.

ATC

2006-03-02T08:56:00.000-05:00

Artist’s Trading Cards are small, 2.5 x 3.5 inch, works of art that are made and, most importantly, freely traded.

I made this one, at work, in a few minutes. I used a discarded file folder for the stock, the floppy part of an old floppy disk, a part of a page from an outdated phone book, staples, paper clips and envelope sealer as glue.

It is, simply, Office

(There is a bit of scanner glare at the bottom of the floppy; it being shiny material.)

Thumbnail Clear Sky Clock

2006-03-01T14:10:00.000-05:00

This is begging to be turned into art.

I am currently working on creating more, and more easily accessed, storage for my art supplies. My friend ME, who lives in a lovely, old, farm house that she keeps easily neat as a pin because of the spareness with which she has decorated, is coming over a few times a month to assist in the process. I am about to order a small chest of drawers for the spot where a pine chest currently resides. I rarely access the contents of the box because it is a big pain in the patoot to get items in and out of it easily. Drawers are the answer. Easily opened drawers. We all know the frustration of sticky drawers! (Let it go potty-heads!)

The point of this is: as I create space that is easy to access in which to store my art supplies I will be more inclined to get them out (and put them away!). And then, I will be more inclined to create art as it moves me rather than watch the inclination move in like a storm and dissipate, leaving behind dissapointment like drought.

I'm listening to Mongo Santamaria "Streak O’ Clean" from: La Bamba

The Planets

2006-02-28T22:23:00.000-05:00

I have been reading Dava Sobel’s amazing book, The Planets. It makes me giddy, excited. I have to pause every now and then and be still. Let the enormity of waht I am learning sink in. I am awash in awe. True, real, awe, not the overused "awesome" trotted out at every occasion, neutering the true meaning of the word.

I discovered this tonight. I wish I had known about it long ago. But the teacher comes when the student is ready!

I'm listening to London Symphony Orchestra, Sir Colin Davis "The Planets, Op. 32: IV. Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity" from: Holst: The Planets

2°

2006-02-20T07:38:00.000-05:00

I woke up at 4:00 this morning. Having a hot flash. Nothing like generating more heat than a body can bare to get one out of bed!

I received an e-mail this morning from Suzanne over at Penny Wise Arts. She inspired me to look at Asia this morning. I am getting some interesting ideas for collage or altered book. We’ll see where it takes me.

I am getting ready to go visit a friend I haven’t seen in months. SN. When Willow died, she stayed with me all evening after friends and neighbors helped bury him. She literally tucked me in my bed after putting fresh clean sheets on it and fluffing my pillows.

There is no enlightenment outside of daily life.
-Thich Nhat Hanh

I'm listening to Joel Vandroogenbroeck "Jalan Jalan" from: South East Asia

8 Women...

2006-02-12T19:18:00.000-05:00

If anyone out there knows where to find video footage of the opening ceremony of the 2006 Olympics, I would be indebted...

What is the first beverage you drink in the morning?
	coffee
	tea
	cola
	water
	milk
	soy beverage
	other carbonated beverage
	other