Day in the life of Flat Eric

It's Sunday, my least favorite day of the week. At least it's not as bad as Swami's cousin, Flat Eric. Poor fellow.

Wednesday 12:10 update

Nobody's at the Bird Park at the moment. A hawk scared everybody off so it's just an empty gray day here in Nevada, this after Tuesday's lovely, though unseasonable, spring day. I was immediately out in the yard preparing a new flower bed. After my neighbor Dwayne and his wife were rousted out of their house last year by their son Tom, there have been a lot of changes next door and, in my opinion, some for the better. For one thing, Tom cut down the poorly aspens along the property line and pulled out the rangy juniper that hogged all the morning light leaving me with a new, thin strip of space to plant. I feel rich. It not only gets morning light but all day light.

Invisible Theatre conference
Yellow Swami is back after a grueling year
in Cambodia and here at Invisible Theater
we couldn't be happier.

Don't get me wrong, we all miss Dwayne. He was a great guy,  a true bon vivant. The first year we moved here he was trying out sobriety. It was his finest hour. After he went back to drinking we watched his light slowly go out. There were still a few good years when he and Clarence the cat continued to hold their garage court. When the door was up, we'd stroll over. Clarence would meow a cheery hello and Dwayne held forth. It was always fun to visit them. When he went back to drinking the bitterness set in like a final night, then came the cancer, then the horrible years of chemo and booze before his son Tom finally forced the two of them out of the house and into senior care, where they belonged. It got tricky. When Tom mentioned moving, Dwayne threatened to shoot him. They had always had a horrible relationship. That's when Tom came over and asked me to help distract his dad while he removed all the weapons from the house, which I did. When Dwayne saw his guns go out the door, he turned to me like a growling wolf and said, "Traitor. Get out of my house". Those are the last words he ever spoke to me. Within the year he was dead.

Chiang Mai at night
Andre Govia, one of my favorite photographers
"liked" this on my flickr account so I am stoked.

The birds just returned to the Bird Park so I guess the coast is clear. Maggie Magpie is out there too. She and her mate basically hang around all day. The rest of the tiding leave right after gobbling breakfast. And to our delight, the quail, finch, sparrows, a few mourning doves, some blackbirds and even a few crows (probably Minerva and friends) showed up about a day after we returned. I suspect that at least the quail stayed even after we left in October. Seems Suki, Dwayne's cat after Clarence died, disappeared sometime in the fall. I like to think some kindly person, sick of seeing her huddling all winter in the cold and snow, gave her a home. Other than Tom, those of us in Suki's little support group, miss her but the upshot is that the Bird Park has returned to sanctuary status. Other than the occasional passing hawk but, of course, they don't stay long.

Home again!

back in the valley

We got back to Nevada this afternoon, we meaning yellow Swami, coral Swami, Andy, Minerva, M. Lee and I. We're all back. It's been five months. Everyone here at the Invisible Theatre is ecstatic that Swami is home! Who would have guessed he'd be returning with us? He's a little battered and rumpled. The way he says, "Cambodia! Woo!" gives me the shivers. Who wouldn't be a little rumpled after that? But still, wonders really do never cease.

On the fly

Our time in Portland is quickly coming to an end.

   It has been utterly delightful spending time with the family.

.

We are totally under their spell,

the grandkids in particular.

They are growing up way too fast!

And yes. Swami is here. It's great to be reunited with him but more about that later. It's late and I've got to try to sleep.

Happy Squirrel Appreciation Day

Woo-hoo! It's that time of year again....National Squirrel Appreciation Day.

Just remember to get the UNSALTED treats.

The Somnambulists

We are now about 33 hours into our return trip home. We are all as rummy rheumy as hell. I don't think I mentioned it earlier, but Lee's 84 year-old mom joined us for our last two weeks Thailand. She came to Bangkok on her own, which I think is kind of amazing. How many 84 year-olds are up for that? But she loves to travel. And actually, if it wasn't for her, we would never have seen the puppet theatre. It was part of a boat tour that we wouldn't have done on our own. More about the puppets later.

Bangkok night

Anyway, we are all as rummy rheumy as hell. Did I mention that already? But right now, it's morning in Thailand and I am feeling oddly awake, although it also feels like a long time since that 3 AM when we started out. At the moment, we are enjoying a 12 hour layover at the Los Angeles airport. There is only one direct flight a  day to Oregon, a little little propjet. And, since early afternoon we've been sitting in a really dreary wing of the airport. Half the room is casually draped with cloth that looks like gigantic white bed sheets and partially walled with bare drywall. Either we are dead and in some nether world, transitioning to the next dimension or LAX is doing some remodeling.