Transitions

I'm in Concord tonight helping with a quasi-emergency kind of thing, nothing too serious (probably) but urgent. We have the weekend to close out the apartment of an incapacitated family member. I have to say, it puts things in a very peculiar light.

Anyway, here are a few photos from last week in Tonopah.









Karaoke goodness is pretty rich but if you're up for more, I posted the second video here.

Ruins of Detroit

Treat yourself to this stunning peek at the ruins of Motor City by Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre.

Off to Tonganoxie

Chief Tonganoxie
When Kockatowha died as Chief of the Turkey Band in 1861, the Commissioner of Indian Affairs refused to recognize Tonganoxie as the chosen successor. Not to worry. Tonganoxie won. He has a city in Kansas named after him. I'm sure that's more than the racist commissioner got for his trouble. Not only that, Tonganoxie's old lodge/tavern still stands. Of course, at this point it's a ghost bar but is more popular than ever now that the drinks are free.

Local news at 6:45

The magpies had to fight the wind to land in the Bird Park this morning. A storm is blowing in. Mr. Lee is ecstatic but he's a ski bum. The birds are not happy. At the moment one just jumped into the middle of the yarrow bush and tucked a tasty nugget there. Hope she remembers. The wind is blowing with such force, she is having trouble navigating even on the ground. Carson Valley is famous for its wind anyway. It blasts over the Sierra with such force that, even on sunny summer days, the currents offer world class conditions for glider planes. It's not so good for cyclists, runners, riders, hikers or anyone else in it. Makes even a walk to the mailbox an uphill trek both ways.

The magpies are still busy stashing food for the upcoming storm. I have been feeding them cheap small dog kibble lately. They seem to like it okay and I like it because it's cheaper than peanuts and not messy. Peanuts are problematic. It's the shells. I go in cycles. Sometimes I shell them, sometimes the birds do. When I toss out whole peanuts these days, I do less. That way, competition remains high and the birds fly off to guard their treasure, thus shelling them, you know, elsewhere. Does that make me a horrible person?

Just got back from Tonopah. Great weekend but I didn't take many photos this trip but I will post some soon.

Tonopah

Behind on everything but this morning I'm off to Tonopah for the weekend. See ya from there.

Cruel world but there's always NaNoWriMo if you don't feel bad enough already

I had laugh at the photo my daughter emailed me yesterday. So much for the new toy I sent Owen the dog. I guess it lasted about a day. Cruel world. The santa bear I gave him for Christmas lasted a week.

The big news around here is that the other day I finally printed out the manuscript I wrote a few years ago during NaNoWriMo. I finished it a day or two before the Nov. 30th deadline, or more accurately I belly crawled past the required 50,000 word finish line, called it good, encrypted it and emailed it to the NaNo word counter bot who counted it in about two seconds then shot back my NaNoWriMo "winner" badge, sort of like receiving a gold metal in the "special" Olympics. I then filed the manuscript and that was that. I never read it and tried not to think about it.

However, I thought I might have lost it during a recent computer upgrade so the other day, out of curiosity, I went looking. The shame over writing such total crap has kind of faded. Time heals. And there it was. It seemed harmless enough so I released it from it's digital limbo. It lives incarnate in the world as black ink on white paper. It looks impressive, especially printed out in 12 pt. Courier, double spaced with 1" margins, 197 pages of .... well ... words. I started reading it and kind of like some of it, although it is shamelessly about nothing. Uncle Monkey, Ugly Bear and Clarence are dubious.


Other than that, I'm headed up to the lake this morning. Some writer friends, also NaNoWriMo gold medalists, put together a weekend retreat. I planned on going last night but got to the base of the Sierra and was turned back by the flashing red CHAINS REQUIRED sign. I'm sure most people forged on, chains or no, but I did not. Okay. Gotta go.

Sunday morning coming round

The magpies weren't so sure about having sesame balls for breakfast this morning. I don't blame them. Sesame balls are greasy little gut bombs that sit in the stomach like a boat's anchor, not a high energy breakfast that gets you up and going. And then I scared them off anyway fiddling with my video camera. Crap. I consider myself the friend of all wild creatures but I am the one who usually scares them off with my enthusiasm.