Blog Update Second Try

A few days ago I wrote a blog update that I called, Blog Update. I had settled on that title because comments by a friend made me want to update my blog. The friend complimented my writing. I do well with compliments and compliments seem to carry more cache when the complimenter is talented in the field he or she is complimenting. I started to write Blog Update at a place that advertised free wifi for $2.95. That place was the Oakland Airport. I continued the update at a similar but much larger place that also advertised free wifi. This time the words, "free wifi," was not followed by a price. For the record, even if the free wifi in Oakland had been half price I wouldn't have paid. I have grown accustomed to free stuff where computers are concerned - not counting computers.

This other place with free wifi was the Salt Lake City Airport. The free Internet was everything it said it would be - free and Internet. I finished the post, complete with links and photographs. I was having such a great time that I was the last one on the plane. But before I got on the plane I pushed the refresh button and Blog Update with all of it's embedded links and photographs was replaced with something resembling this: Blog fghaiod. Intriguing but it did not convey whatever it was I was trying to convey.

The reason I was in Oakland was because it has the second closest airport to San Francisco after the San Francisco Airport. And I was in San Francisco because Tenspeed Hero has a show at The Rapha Cycle Club on Filmore and Filbert. Luke Hero, Becca Intern Hero and I were there installing our Tour De France illustrations (illustrated by Becca). We spent a couple of days trying to ignore the plaintive whispers of wool cycling clothing imploring us to adopt (buy) them. But Heroes are only human and I was inevitably broken down by a pair of socks that go by the name, Rapha City Riding Socks. The City Riding Socks rightfully pointed out that I had, heretofore, been riding in cities with decidedly rural and in some cases suburban socks. "You need us," they said.

The show looked great and our hosts were excellent. Thank you Rapha Cycle Club. And thank you Belinda and Nick for the great company, food and inexplicably comfortable foldout couch. And thanks Andrea for the free admission to the Academy of Sciences. And especially thanks to Jenny for minding the farm while I was away.

 Anaconda

Bobcat admiring my Rapha City Riding Socks

Bobcat tasting the air

Bobcat freeing me of my glasses 

Not sure who this is

One of Becca's illustrations

Chicken Hawks

The Davis's (that's what the free range chickens are known as) have been sleeping inside since three of their family members were killed by a probable hawk. Or probably killed by an actual hawk. Or actually killed by something. Maybe a hawk. We left the farm to run some errands and Jenny came back to a dead chicken. Upon further investigation we discovered that two others were gone. Reuben was hurt - missing feathers and there was some blood on his back. He hasn't left his coop in a week. He spent the first couple of nights sleeping on the floor. This from a chicken who usually sleeps fairly high up in a tree. It's sad to see only a couple of hens here and there roaming the yard. 

William Lewis Cabin Painter

The great and powerful Bill Lewis drew or painted or sketched this. There are many more beautiful cabin paintings on his website.

Not Watching the Olympics

Even though my neighbor Kristin Armstrong won a Golden medallion today (today was a few days ago now). And my other neighbor, from across the pond, Bradley Wiggins also won a similar prize in a similar event.
But I would watch the Olympics if I could figure out how. An afternoon break from the oppression that we call summer in Boise would be welcome.

Part II
The next two pictures shows the view from the sprinklers - the sprinklers that want as much attention as the animals. The animals are partly to blame for this sprinkler neediness. Intrepid likes to play in the sprinklers. He scratches his belly on the business end while rhythmically kicking the sprinkler's pipe. It goes a little something like this: rub, kick, rub, kick, rub rub, kick kick, rib, kick, rub, kick..." Meanwhile he hums. If you listen carefully his hums start to sound like a musical, "ahhh, that's it, yeah, oooh, you know me so well."

photo by Jenny Hunter

 Part III

Our caterpillar Brian has a flake of kitty litter stuck to his face. He has long term dreams of flying. We do not have the heart to tell him that he is a lowly caterpillar and unless he can somehow magically turn into a butterfly, or a moth maybe, that it isn't going to happen.