Day One, the Loneliest Highway

Headed east, looking back. 

When Life magazine named Nevada's Hwy. 50 the "Loneliest Road in America"  back in 1986 its uninitiated urban editors meant it as an insult. They missed it all, the terrestrial beauty, the staggering silence and untamed sky. We took Hwy. 50 east this morning and, having spent a lot of summers past exploring the Great Basin, it was sweet like coming home. It is a place to disappear in. But today was not a time for that. Today was Day One of our cross-country road trip. Our first main stop will be New Vrindaban, West Virginia, two nights. I lived there many years ago. I am going back to reclaim my ghosts.

Spring fling

All afternoon there was a huge quail collective honeymoon party in the Bird Park, couples aglow with conjugal bliss strolling around nibbling seeds, lounging under budding lilacs, enjoying dirt baths and sunshine after a week of schizophrenic spring snows laced with taunting bright moments clouded over by bitter winds the next all to the tune of quail love songs trilled from rooftops and fence posts all around the neighborhood.

Spring in the desert.

Then there's Louie. Lonely Louie. He's here a lot since the hawk got his mate. He tries to mind his own business but every now and then some male suddenly takes an unprovoked run at him and he zig-zags through the couples as fast as he can go trying to escape. Poor Louie. I hope he meets a nice new lady quail soon. Quail mate for life but hey! The little guy deserves a break.

If you're a regular here, you might recognize Dwayne's giant green Indian Willow Tree o' Life in the background of the photo. This year the tree is more fabulous than ever. However Dwayne is not doing so well. Recently his son Tom had to whisk both him and Thera off to an assisted living facility. One day they were at home and the same day .... gone. Tom called me over to help. His dad was threatening to shoot him if he tried moving them so Tom wanted me to act as distraction so he could get the guns out of the house. I tried my best but when Dwayne saw Tome heading for the door with his arms full of weapons he looked at me and said, "You're with him. Traitor. Get out of my house". That was it. They were gone that day.

Tom, his two kids, their dog Roxy and Dwayne's cat Snooky live there now and poor Snooky has been demoted to the status of an outdoor cat. One of the kids has an allergy problem. Tom's been doing a lot of clean up and repairs around the place. He was even thinking about cutting down the willow (which we all love) but Dwayne asked him to spare it. He told me he agreed...for now. We all know what that means. In any case, sounds like Thera probably won't make it out of the care center but, if Dwayne's condition continues to improve, they've arranged for him move to a different residence and Snooky can join him there. Not exactly one of those "happily ever after endings" but it will have to do.

And we're leaving on Sunday for our trip back east. We're driving to DC then NYC then Florida for the summer. I'm packing and fretting and fretting about packing and going. The new, fabulous paper floor is done and the really cool studio is ready so off we go. Crazy, eh?

Spring treats

Spring evening

Spring is a crazy time. Last night's ominous sky brought this morning's snow and a hungry morning in the Bird Park. The leftover vegan "tuna" chunks were a big hit.

Sweet Lorraine's magic silver polishing trick

"It really works."
- Lorraine

Mostly I'm posting this (again?) for myself so I will have it. If nothing else, this blog is my file cabinet. But you can use it too. This very excellent, oh so easy, silver polishing trick even cleans the kind of silver jewelry with intricate designs that turn black deep down in the little crevasses and are impossible to reach. Compliments of dear sweet Lorraine. RIP my friend.




Ingredients:
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon baking soda
1 sheet of aluminum foil
1 quart water

Add dry ingredients to 1 quart boiling water.
Submerge foil in water.
Drop silver onto foil.
Tarnish will immediately disappear.
Remove silver from water.
Place on drying cloth.
Allow to dry.
To enhance affect, gently rub silver but it's not necessary.
It will come out of the water shiny as new.*

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If you're thinking about trying this recipe out, I suggest you also check the comment section of this article. There are some interesting pro/con comments on this technique.

Morning report

I got up a bit later than usual this morning and the birds had already come and gone, without breakfast. However Maggie, the 7 O'clock magpie, the Bird Park Prima Bella, showed up soon after I put out this morning's fare, peanuts, kibbles, mashed potatoes and remnants of a crunchy cookie. She went to the cookie first, not because it was a cookie but because it was something different, something she hadn't seen before. Such a wonderful trait, her curiosity. It is a mark of her intelligence. At this point a few others have shown up. Oh oh! Here comes the hawk!

Louie the lonely quail dude.
Quail mate for life so this guy is bereft
after the hawk recently ate his companion..

OK. Where was I before Ms. Fancy Pants showed up? Damn. I scared the shit out of the quail chasing her off. Poor guys. They were walking around nibbling seed, totally unaware Ms. Death had arrived. I ran at her but she just stared me me down. I had to grow and wave my arms even to get her to move down the fence, quail blasting out from under the trees in every direction, wings revved up like jet engines. The quail were in utter chaos. Ms. Fancy Pants finally took off but not without a quick pass at the fleeing covey, swooping low over the ground, me in hot pursuit, quail screaming. She didn't get anybody. This time.

Ms. Fancy Pants with that
"You're next, buddy" look in her eye,
quail parts dangling from her beak.
- photo by Kristiana

Yes, yes. I'm choosing sides. Interfering with nature. GASP! I deprived the hawk of her breakfast. Too bad. When Kristy and Thea were here, we watched her eat a quail and ever since then a lonely quail dude wanders the Bird Park outcast and alone. So enough is enough. The thing is, the Bird Park is not a natural environment. It doesn't have amount the kind of ground cover quail need to have a fighting chance so I am stepping in. Not on my watch, buddy. The hawks have a lot of territory. At least while I'm here, it doesn't have to include the Bird Park.We'll only be here another two weeks then we leave for the rest of year. Things will settle down around here on their own after that.

God. I've got to get back to my list making and anxiety attack.

Spring commeth and the squawky babies

The first of the spring babies has arrived at the bird park today and, like all babies, she's out there knee deep in food squawking away trying to get her mother to feed her. Well,she's not literally knee deep in food but it's a better image. And Charlie the Crow just dropped in for breakfast. The left over spring rolls were a big hit, everything but the carrots. Birds don't like carrots.

Spring Visit

They've come and gone.

It was a great visit.

We did a little of a lot of things.

It wasn't enough time.



It never is.

That doesn't change.



No regrets.

The sweetness lingers.

Timelines Traffic Jam

Frosty the Horse.
Lunch stop in Lone Pine, CA.

We're in LA for the next couple of days. It's a turn around trip. We drove down this morning and are returning home on Tuesday and that night I'm reading at a Jazz & Poetry event at Comma Coffee in Carson City. Then, in the next two days we have to try to get all the furniture put together and make the house presentable because Kristiana and Thea Belle arrive on Saturday. We'll barely be ready and I certainly wouldn't have planned it this way. It's just that the various plans for the week suddenly and unavoidably got mashed together.

Now that the new floor is in, we are replacing our plastic desks and milk crate office furniture with IKEA modules. We thought we'd be able to pick everything up at the Sacramento store last week but it turned out to be an older, smaller store with a reduced inventory.

When M. Lee began this massive, monumental paper floor project a couple of months ago, their visit marked the absolute must finish by date. At the time it seemed like a purely academic deadline because, after all, how could tearing up every inch of flooring in the house and redoing it one square of paper at a time possibly take that long? Did I say crazy? But no. Really. It's beautiful and totally worth it. It's a huge improvement. I've already gotten my office half put back together because of the new shelving we got last week and it's great. It really makes a difference. I do believe I'm going to end up with an actually working work space? Christ, that sounds pathetic.

Froggie lullabies

There aren't many benefits to insomnia but last night around 2 AM as I lay awake wondering if the wind was going to blow the tool shed over again, Michigan H. Frog began holding forth against the storm raging down from the Sierra. Little Henry. Damn! Whether or not he's an endangered Sierra Nevada Yellow-Legged Frog is still up for debate but how in the world does any frog make his way to my desert backyard and survive winter? But he did and he is and last night this plucky little fellow's storm watch nocturne put me to sleep. Thanks, Froggie.