Luke and I are in Portland working on our book, "Big Ten Co-Eds, Preppy Girls and The Lost Cheerleaders." We spent a few hours today laying the book out. It’s looking pretty good so far.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Our Publisher
On the plane to Portland I sat by a woman who had a thick ham sandwich on dark rye bread. She was squirting little packets of mustard on to the sandwich when she asked, "Do you want half of this?" I thought it was a very sweet gesture but declined. Earlier, I was sitting in another seat when a large man sat by me. I started to sweat and had the closest thing to a panic attack that I ever hope to have. I thought I might have to get off the plane. After trading seats with the large man's son, I calmed down immediately. Whew.
Luke and I are in Portland working on our book, "Big Ten Co-Eds, Preppy Girls and The Lost Cheerleaders." We spent a few hours today laying the book out. It’s looking pretty good so far.
Luke and I are in Portland working on our book, "Big Ten Co-Eds, Preppy Girls and The Lost Cheerleaders." We spent a few hours today laying the book out. It’s looking pretty good so far.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
180 degrees in the shade.
I just told Robert that his shorts are on backwards and he said, “Just 180 degree?” Yes. But then he said he doesn’t think they are made to do that.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Black-tailed rattlesnake maybe
I went for a hike yesterday and saw what I believe to be a Black-tailed rattlesnake. He was pretty aggressive though and my sources (enature.com) say the Black-tailed is not a particularly aggressive species. I told the gardener about my hike and he said, "It is okay to enjoy the mountains but not to trust the mountains. There are lots of black bear and they will eat you. You should bring a gun. A snake in the Gila (a national forest in southern New Mexico) ate a cow and her babies." He said the snake sucked the cattle up like a vacuum cleaner. He indicated the size with his arms in a circle (bigger than an anaconda) and said it was a serpent.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
larvae
There are hundreds of these larvae on my house. They look like ladybug larvae but larger and yellowish. They seem to barely move but if I put something out in front of the house the thing will have one on it almost immediately and maybe thirty or more if left overnight. Do you know what they are? I am waiting for them to turn into beetles to find out.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
ants
I moved into the barn in the back yard about a week ago. It had recently been renovated so it’s not very barn-like, unless you count bugs as barnyard animals. After a day or two of living in my little house the ants in the picture moved in. Actually they seemed more interested in using the floor to store dirt excavated from the tunnels they were building then actually living here. I vacuumed them up a few times and then caulked the tiny gap that was their entrance. It has worked so far.
Why I loved Running
I loved to run. I wish I could write something that could express the feeling running gave me (before my knees rebelled). Running on a warm day especially – maybe even a hot one. Running in an old t-shirt and a pair of little shorts that say Dolphin on them. I never had “Dolphin” shorts but I did once have a pair of red “Sub 4” shorts until I had to dispose of them after they were contaminated with PCBs.
Here’s a story of a particularly eventful run:
Once I ran twenty-eight and three quarter miles, from Carson Pass to Ebbits Pass in Northern California. That was a beautiful run (much of which I walked). There is a lot of up and down as you might expect in the Sierra Nevada. At the top of every hill we overlooked a beautiful valley filled with wildflowers. It could have been every other hill. After a couple hours we stopped for lunch and a swim in one of the cold, alpine lakes. Toward the end of the run, which we started to anticipate about ten miles too soon, every hill we were sure was the last before reaching Ebbits pass. Only one hill turned out to be the last. Highway 4, where Ebbits pass was, looked more like a country lane than a highway. It wass a narrow, winding, two-lane road lined with forest. My running partner, Matt, and mostly I, were exhausted as we prepared to hitch hike on the edge of the road. Before any cars came, a cyclist sped by on his way down the pass. As he passed, he spat on Matt. I was immediately refreshed and my hand searched the ground for a rock to throw as I started to sprint after him. He was going 40, maybe 50 miles an hour and I hit a top speed of less than thirty – probably about 20 mph less than thirty. He got away. I vowed that the next SUV (I predicted that the first car to come would be an SUV) that came would give us a ride. The next care was a Ford Expedition, which came to a quick stop. I told the couple what happened and the driver said, “Get in.” We pursued the cyclist down the hill for maybe 15 miles and caught him. As we pulled up to him and I rolled down my window and calmly asked, “Did you spit on my friend on purpose?” to which he replied, “I sure did.” To which I replied, “Well, then fuck you, you fuckin’ cocksucker!” And then I apologized to the people in the front seat for my foul language. The cyclist said that Matt had threatened his life by “standing in the road.” My argument was that Matt’s life was equally in danger if cyclist/spitter had him. And what about wildlife - does he spit on deer crossing the road? And it is not as if there were sidewalks on these little mountain roads. The Man driving wanted to get out of the car and “have a talk” with the spitter. I wanted to disconnect (cut) his brakes so he would have to walk home. Matt advised leaving - turning the other cheek. The driver’s wife said, “Honey, let’s go. Forget about it.” We left but we did not forget about it. When the nice couple dropped us off Matt was singing a different tune. He said that if we find the guy he was going to stick his broom’s handle, which he really did have in his car, in his spokes. Fortunately, we never saw him again. And that’s why I love running - up until the spitting part.
Here’s a story of a particularly eventful run:
Once I ran twenty-eight and three quarter miles, from Carson Pass to Ebbits Pass in Northern California. That was a beautiful run (much of which I walked). There is a lot of up and down as you might expect in the Sierra Nevada. At the top of every hill we overlooked a beautiful valley filled with wildflowers. It could have been every other hill. After a couple hours we stopped for lunch and a swim in one of the cold, alpine lakes. Toward the end of the run, which we started to anticipate about ten miles too soon, every hill we were sure was the last before reaching Ebbits pass. Only one hill turned out to be the last. Highway 4, where Ebbits pass was, looked more like a country lane than a highway. It wass a narrow, winding, two-lane road lined with forest. My running partner, Matt, and mostly I, were exhausted as we prepared to hitch hike on the edge of the road. Before any cars came, a cyclist sped by on his way down the pass. As he passed, he spat on Matt. I was immediately refreshed and my hand searched the ground for a rock to throw as I started to sprint after him. He was going 40, maybe 50 miles an hour and I hit a top speed of less than thirty – probably about 20 mph less than thirty. He got away. I vowed that the next SUV (I predicted that the first car to come would be an SUV) that came would give us a ride. The next care was a Ford Expedition, which came to a quick stop. I told the couple what happened and the driver said, “Get in.” We pursued the cyclist down the hill for maybe 15 miles and caught him. As we pulled up to him and I rolled down my window and calmly asked, “Did you spit on my friend on purpose?” to which he replied, “I sure did.” To which I replied, “Well, then fuck you, you fuckin’ cocksucker!” And then I apologized to the people in the front seat for my foul language. The cyclist said that Matt had threatened his life by “standing in the road.” My argument was that Matt’s life was equally in danger if cyclist/spitter had him. And what about wildlife - does he spit on deer crossing the road? And it is not as if there were sidewalks on these little mountain roads. The Man driving wanted to get out of the car and “have a talk” with the spitter. I wanted to disconnect (cut) his brakes so he would have to walk home. Matt advised leaving - turning the other cheek. The driver’s wife said, “Honey, let’s go. Forget about it.” We left but we did not forget about it. When the nice couple dropped us off Matt was singing a different tune. He said that if we find the guy he was going to stick his broom’s handle, which he really did have in his car, in his spokes. Fortunately, we never saw him again. And that’s why I love running - up until the spitting part.
Friday, May 06, 2005
lottery
Recently I got an email telling me that I won 1.5 million Euros. It was a Packard Bell Lottery (that I never bought a ticket for but the ticket had my email address on it, the email said, so I guess I'm rich). This picture is a simulation of me and Robert when I get the money and convert it into dollars.
As you can tell, we are pretty excited.
As you can tell, we are pretty excited.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Opinion
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Dean from Australia
Some of you, I know, like to read adventure stories. Well, if the previous entry about seeing the Summer tanager wasn’t enough . . .
On my bike ride this afternoon I saw a Scaled quail and a Curve-billed thrasher. Not long after seeing these birds I was coasting down Tramway – the north end - when my rear tire blew. I laughed because I had earlier been thinking about how silly I was to go for a ride without a pump, spare tire, patch kit, cell phone, or money. Walking in cycling shoes is difficult, slow and bad for the shoes. I was ready to hitch when a couple of friendly cyclists came to my aid. Unfortunately, I have wheels that have deep rims and require special long valve stemmed inner tubes. Fortunately, one of the Samaritans had a long stemmed tube. Unfortunately, my rear wheel requires an even longer stemmed tube than he had. So we patched the offending tube, but it didn’t take. Then another cyclist, an older gentleman, stronger and vastly more experienced than the rest of us, stopped to help. We tried to warn him that I was beyond help and he wouldn’t hear of it. He said that he had everything we could possibly need. He did. He had a long stemmed tube and a stem extender. The stem extender did not work, but he had a longer one that did work. Sadly, my valve stem broke while removing the extender. Meanwhile, the other cyclists took turns keeping my precious bike from touching the ground (while their bikes were lying on the asphalt). He did manage to leave me with a tire about half full of air. I rode a few miles until the tire was flat again and I started walking. I had about a five mile walk ahead of me. During the walk I was damning my luck and stupidity and trying to be upset about the situation but I couldn’t help partially enjoy the walk, even in cycling shoes. I saw more birds - eight White-faced ibises probing someone’s flooded field. After walking about two miles, another cyclist stopped, Dean from Australia, to help. His efforts failed too, so he went home, got his car, and drove me home. That was awfully nice.
As a side note, Dean had a teeny pit bull (Staffordshire terrier).
On my bike ride this afternoon I saw a Scaled quail and a Curve-billed thrasher. Not long after seeing these birds I was coasting down Tramway – the north end - when my rear tire blew. I laughed because I had earlier been thinking about how silly I was to go for a ride without a pump, spare tire, patch kit, cell phone, or money. Walking in cycling shoes is difficult, slow and bad for the shoes. I was ready to hitch when a couple of friendly cyclists came to my aid. Unfortunately, I have wheels that have deep rims and require special long valve stemmed inner tubes. Fortunately, one of the Samaritans had a long stemmed tube. Unfortunately, my rear wheel requires an even longer stemmed tube than he had. So we patched the offending tube, but it didn’t take. Then another cyclist, an older gentleman, stronger and vastly more experienced than the rest of us, stopped to help. We tried to warn him that I was beyond help and he wouldn’t hear of it. He said that he had everything we could possibly need. He did. He had a long stemmed tube and a stem extender. The stem extender did not work, but he had a longer one that did work. Sadly, my valve stem broke while removing the extender. Meanwhile, the other cyclists took turns keeping my precious bike from touching the ground (while their bikes were lying on the asphalt). He did manage to leave me with a tire about half full of air. I rode a few miles until the tire was flat again and I started walking. I had about a five mile walk ahead of me. During the walk I was damning my luck and stupidity and trying to be upset about the situation but I couldn’t help partially enjoy the walk, even in cycling shoes. I saw more birds - eight White-faced ibises probing someone’s flooded field. After walking about two miles, another cyclist stopped, Dean from Australia, to help. His efforts failed too, so he went home, got his car, and drove me home. That was awfully nice.
As a side note, Dean had a teeny pit bull (Staffordshire terrier).
Summer Tanager
Recently I realized that the Black-headed grosbeak has a robin-like song. Today I was walking along the bosque (which in Albuquerque is the forest along the Rio Grande) and I heard a robin-like song but it did not sound like a black-headed grosbeak. I started to think it might be a robin – a bird that also has a robin-like song. I am aware that Western tanagers also have a similar song but this was louder than what I am used to hearing from a Western tanager. When the sound was loudest I stopped and scanned the trees where I saw my first summer tanager sitting on a bare branch at about eye level. Then I saw a Western bluebird, Gambel’s quail, and Ash-throated flycatchers.
P.S. I stole the picture from, I think, The Birds of Oklahoma website.
P.S. I stole the picture from, I think, The Birds of Oklahoma website.
Friday, April 29, 2005
More on the Ivory-billed Woodpecker
Next time you play cribbage with your ivory cribbage board, or comb your hair with your ivory comb, or rob a liquor store with your ivory handled revolver, think about the Ivory-billed woodpecker. For it is not just the obnoxious elephant and the overindulgent walrus that are effected by the Ivory trade; the majestic (and sometimes silly) Ivory-billed woodpecker has suffered to the point of extinction (almost!) at the hands of greedy ivory traders. Sure, some were legally picked off by Eskimos trying to eek out an existence in the swamps of the Deep South.
Woops. Apparently the Ivory-billed woodpecker (Giganticus woodpeckerus), is named for the color of its bill and not for the ivory in its bill which I believe amounts to very little (none).
Woops. Apparently the Ivory-billed woodpecker (Giganticus woodpeckerus), is named for the color of its bill and not for the ivory in its bill which I believe amounts to very little (none).
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Ivory Billed Woodpecker
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Greyhound
I dropped Chuck off at the Greyhound station, which is one of the worst places to leave a friend. Sorry Chuck. On the trip from Chuck at the ticket counter back to my car (a journey of about ten seconds) I saw a woman wearing headphones singing loudly, “Don’t judge me until you get to know me…” Sadly, I had already done the former and had no interest in the latter. Then I passed a young man with no container for his cigarettes. He had one tucked behind an ear, one between his pinky and ring finger, one between his index and middle finger and one in his mouth, poor guy. That’s what I saw. I am sure there were more things of interest but I walk with blinders in Greyhound stations.
Better this week
Last week I mentioned Robert’s extra spaciness. At the
time I was concerned that he had taken big step in the
wrong direction health-wise. A friend of mine,
Chuckie, came to town and we took a road trip to
California. When we got back Robert looked much better
and said, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He was
happy to see me and I was happy to see him. In the
last couple of days he has been impressively together.
Chuckie asked him if he had ever hiked and he said
that he had a little in Denver. When he heard us
mention Denver again he said, “I was born in Denver.”
Last week, for days, he never said anything that had
anything to do with anything – as far as I could tell.
Just now he is looking at an art piece he made and he
turned to me a said, “I’m studying this,” which he is.
Robert is a huge part of my life and I love taking
care of him but I admit it was much more difficult
last week. Seeing him like that was like seeing the
future; the future is not as good as it used to be.
time I was concerned that he had taken big step in the
wrong direction health-wise. A friend of mine,
Chuckie, came to town and we took a road trip to
California. When we got back Robert looked much better
and said, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He was
happy to see me and I was happy to see him. In the
last couple of days he has been impressively together.
Chuckie asked him if he had ever hiked and he said
that he had a little in Denver. When he heard us
mention Denver again he said, “I was born in Denver.”
Last week, for days, he never said anything that had
anything to do with anything – as far as I could tell.
Just now he is looking at an art piece he made and he
turned to me a said, “I’m studying this,” which he is.
Robert is a huge part of my life and I love taking
care of him but I admit it was much more difficult
last week. Seeing him like that was like seeing the
future; the future is not as good as it used to be.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Monday, April 18, 2005
The Southwest
Some of the classified ads in the Albuquerque Journal:
Rifle, AK47 2 30 round clips, pistol grip $400.
Moose Hide Tanned & smoked $1200.
Rifles Norinco SKS unissued, clean, bayo $ mt, $250.00
SNAKE Ball Python, 3 $55ea, Forest Chameleon 1 $45. Baby Alligators 2 $150ea . . .
WOLF PUPS $450, 1 male & one female, high percentage.
Recently there was an article about a compound (some trailers and outbuildings) in the desert where authorities discovered elk heads, bobcat hides, a meat drying operation (for selling carne seca (jerky), from poached animals) and more that I cannot recall.
Also common in the Journal are articles about mistreated dogs along with articles about dogs attacking children. One woman recently got rid of her dog because it did not match her carpet. New Mexico is considering outlawing cockfighting; if that happens the closest state to catch a legal cockfight will be all the way over in Oklahoma, but not for long. Wait! This just in: Oklahoma is considering allowing cockfighting with little chicken boxing gloves that electronically record hits. Regular or “Old School” cockfighting is still legal in OK as of 1963 when a judge ruled that chickens where not animals and therefore not subject to Oklahoma’s animal fighting laws. But I digress.
Rifle, AK47 2 30 round clips, pistol grip $400.
Moose Hide Tanned & smoked $1200.
Rifles Norinco SKS unissued, clean, bayo $ mt, $250.00
SNAKE Ball Python, 3 $55ea, Forest Chameleon 1 $45. Baby Alligators 2 $150ea . . .
WOLF PUPS $450, 1 male & one female, high percentage.
Recently there was an article about a compound (some trailers and outbuildings) in the desert where authorities discovered elk heads, bobcat hides, a meat drying operation (for selling carne seca (jerky), from poached animals) and more that I cannot recall.
Also common in the Journal are articles about mistreated dogs along with articles about dogs attacking children. One woman recently got rid of her dog because it did not match her carpet. New Mexico is considering outlawing cockfighting; if that happens the closest state to catch a legal cockfight will be all the way over in Oklahoma, but not for long. Wait! This just in: Oklahoma is considering allowing cockfighting with little chicken boxing gloves that electronically record hits. Regular or “Old School” cockfighting is still legal in OK as of 1963 when a judge ruled that chickens where not animals and therefore not subject to Oklahoma’s animal fighting laws. But I digress.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
What's inside your shoe?
Friday, April 15, 2005
Kinda spacey (more kinda spacey than usual)
Robert has been a little spacey these past few days. Just now I was trying to get him to put his pants back on. Imagine where I might stand for such a procedure. Yes, you got it; directly in front of the subject. I said, “Here, put your pants on.” He said, “Come in!” After a few minutes, the conversation continuing as it started, I got his pants and his missing sock back on. He curled up sideways on the bed and said, “Thank you, both of you.”
Twice today he smoked a cigarette with out lighting it. He took long drags and blew out invisible smoke. While putting his pants on, I took a cigarette out of his hand and he said, "Why would you . . . that's my hard work?”
Twice today he smoked a cigarette with out lighting it. He took long drags and blew out invisible smoke. While putting his pants on, I took a cigarette out of his hand and he said, "Why would you . . . that's my hard work?”
Number 1 Hummingbird
Yesterday, April 14, I saw the first hummingbird of the season. I went out and bought a new feeder and a shepherd's hook so I could hang the feeders in front of the kitchen window. Today I have had one male black-chinned hummingbird eating from the feeder off and on. Also yesterday, there was a May fly hatch. So in Albuquerque when you see May flies start looking for hummingbirds.
The photo is of the first hummingbird I've seen this year. What? Oh me? I am a photographer, why?
Notes:
The photo is of the first hummingbird I've seen this year. What? Oh me? I am a photographer, why?
Notes:
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Our Mascot
This little guy or gal quickly made a web in my water glass while I was carpeting my floor. Justin and I decided to make him or her our mascot. But he or she cared not about his or her status as mascot to such a fine organization and left without so much as spelling out a good-bye in her or his web. I think we're better off without her. I don't even miss her. I don't.
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