News at 8:01 AM

The gods mock me.
My bday fortune from
the Chinese buffet

Yikes! It's August 2nd already. My birthday. Don't even ask. Anyway....extra peanuts for all...and seeds. There are now a fair number of tiny little Doves visiting Frida's Palm Cafe on a regular basis and several bright red Cardinals, many Red Wing Blackbirds and maybe even a Northern Mockingbird now and then. That's the official state bird of Florida although, clearly, the state bird of Florida should be the Giant Wood Stork. Come on, Florida. Live a little.

I'm way behind in the news here. Haven't even mentioned that I read poetry at the Sarasota Writer's Group in July. Now the tiny town of Nokomis goes on the World Tour list. Nice people. Some good writers. Each reader is allotted a whopping 10 minutes to do with as they will. Most were novelists reading from works in progress or their books newly minted via Amazon's CreateSpace. They all seem to go for the glossy photo covers, which I don't care for, otherwise Amazon does a great print job. Doing a book of poems that way is on my short list.

Snooty the Manatee celebrated his 65th Birthday
with a tower of fruit last week
as the Ancients sang Happy Birthday.

The Big News around here is that tomorrow Misters Leo (age 4) and Frank (age 1) arrive with, as Kristiana and M. Lee say, their handlers. So here's to a week of fun at the beach plus a few extras like a visit to Snooty the resident Manatee at the South Florida Museum. Snooty was born at the Miami Aquarium when his mother was there recuperating. Eventually she returned to the wild but, for whatever reason, Snooty remained behind and has spent his entire life in captivity, a sad fate. I hate seeing any animal confined to a zoo, circus, aquarium or whatever but they do serve to teach us humans the enormously important fact that other life forms live on this planet and deserve our respect and protection. And Leo is going to love this guy!

Misters Leo and Frank

So Venice Florida, collectively having the oldest population in America, has the grandkid thing all sorted out. Tomorrow I pick up the baby gear at A to Z Rentals. They have it all, high chairs and potty chairs to strollers, kid's bikes and even the family beach cabana so we will be set then the family arrives in the evening. More to come.

Sunday bull session

Billy the Kid
via wikipedia

It's a lovely day here on Alligator Creek, breezy and hot, about 90° on the screen porch. I have the fan on. I'm drenched but I don't care. I guess I'm acclimated. Across the street, Sonny Boy is holding forth on his screen porch in that booming, gravely voice of his. I catch snippets.

"You gotta have heart. That's what I put on the internet too. You gotta have heart."

"......my daughter, her own cousin says, what a beautiful Italian woman."

He's talking to his dad, who occasionally injects a nearly inaudible but definitely gravely grunt or comment of his own. I can't see them. Palm fronds block the view, as does their screen and the perpetual shadow, as their porch faces north. But I can hear bits of what he's saying over the whir of my fan, the wind in the palms, little seaplanes buzzing up and down the coast, cars whooshing on the nearby road that skirts the ICW... bits and pieces....

"I read the whole biography of Billy the Kid the other day... Died on July 14th, 1881. 21 years-old. Blue-eyed. Weighed 120 lbs... The first time he went to jail he escaped... Went to Arizona on a horse, alone.... Went to New York on a horse, alone.... Mexico, on a horse.... alone.... before he was 21.... He was in the desert by himself.... He had to go to to the Indians.

He has (Yes. He said "has") some brains.... Five hundred miles of desert.... You know his mother was an immigrant... Came over on a boat from Ireland... His mother died when he was 15.... 15... so he started runnin around... got in trouble, whatever... his step-father didn't want nothin to do with him so he went out west... He looked at Florida and said "what the hell?"

Later he switched to personal reflections.

Kewpie doll
via wikipedia

"They had a kwepie doll, know what I mean?... I lost everything I had....bowls, furniture, my gun, everything.... Left me in a little bit of shit.... But anyways, I was packing up to leave, the house was full of crabs and fleas. I had no vehicle, no money, my social security check was cut off..."

Then Mom returned from the ravioli run.

"What the hell is this? Who wrecked this chair? What the hell happened here?"

 Sonny Boy,

 "I put tape over it."

 And thus ended the Sunday bull session.

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And, besides doing this post and going to the beach for while today, I redesigned my poetry site, annasadhorse, and added a new piece titled Music Theory.

Doing lunch with the big birds

Florida. Gotta love it.

Can I has a take out please?

Well, helloooo there!

Mmmmm, what have we here?

Yes, I can has fried 'tatoes.

Nom nom nom

Morning quiz

Morning and it's already raining. This could get interesting. The highest elevation in Florida is 345 feet. That's up in the panhandle. Around here it's about an inch. Well, I exaggerate but not by much. We went on a bike ride yesterday. The labyrinth of canals, creeks, ponds and ditches that hem in the human habitat here is full to the brim.

Which brings us to the morning quiz. "Why did the ICW cross the road?"

Ok. Here's question two. Where the hell is Sonny Boy?

I'll answer that one. He's inside watching TV or something.

Question three. So why is his ancient Dad out sweeping up the rain?

Beach walk

Gulf sunset

There's a ray of light when the setting sun hits a certain declination on the horizon. It only lasts a moment. Some say there's a green flash. I've never seen it. But just now, light from the sun setting out over the Gulf suddenly, for a moment, flared orange through the tops of the trees along Alligator Creek casting the world and the screen porch under its spell.

We took the South Venice ferry to Manasota Key this afternoon. It's a short ride across the Intracoastal Waterway but the only direct access to Sunset beach. Otherwise, its a long walk on the shore to get there so it's a pretty quiet spot. The ferry pass comes with the house we're renting. It's a cool little boat. We took it a lot when we were here a couple of summers ago but today was only our second trip this time, even though we've already been here a month. It has been unseasonably rainy, torrential and unpredictable, so we've been driving to other beaches. However, today we thought we could beat the rain. We figured wrong.

Sea turtle nests and blooming century plants

From the ferry landing, a wooden walkway goes through the mangrove and palm forest to the Gulf side of the Key, From there we walked north and were so engrossed looking for shark's teeth (both of us) and heart rocks (me), being amazed at all the sea turtle nests staked and marked by the Turtle Patrol, what storm surges have done to the shore, commenting on birds, admiring the giant pelican drying her wings in the wind in the top of a tree, admiring the jungle of native foliage and trying to not stare at the gay men in teeny thongs who make this otherwise deserted stretch their rendezvous that we failed to notice the giant, black storm clouds gathering behind us. When we did, we were a couple of miles away from the ferry.

We started back and the wind came up, and with it stinging sand, so we bent our heads down and pushed into it, pulling our hats further and then further over our eyes. Next came the rain, in tropical torrents. By the time we got back to Sunset beach it was deserted. We made for the walkway and hurried across the Key back to the ferry landing. No boat, no phone, nowhere to go, so we sat on the walkway in the rain.

This may all sound very bad but actually it wasn't. I went back to the Gulf to see once more the beach shrouded by the squall. For this moment, this storm, there was nothing and no one (well, except me) in the gray and rain marring the solitude. Empty. And baby turtles gestating in their eggs deep within the sand by the sea. The way it always was. The beach and I were wild again. I stood watching sheets of rain whipping westward over the Gulf, blown by offshore winds, then I went back up the stairs and across the Key to the east, to wait with M. Lee for the ferry, which did come back for us after all.

Senor Raindrop

Some little fellow whose love song sounds like the drip of crazy giant-size raindrops on an amplified tin can has been wandering around the mangroves singing his heart out tonight. It's kind of sad but fits right into the night chorus of buzzing, trilling and croaking that goes on here at the end of the road.

As usual, I'm sitting on the screen porch in the dark. When I'm home, I practically live out here. I love it. I have my corner, table, chair and laptop. Dd the squirrel sometimes drops by in the afternoon for a visit. The screen's between us, but probably best that way. I hate going indoors. Basically, I only go in to bathe and sleep. Well, I go in for our nightly mango party, my favorite. And we do eat a meal together now and then, that's indoors. Mostly we eat over our keyboards. We're feral.

Earlier in the evening, Senor Raindrop (it's late. whatdayawant?) held his song to a monotonous drip ...drip ...drip tempo but, finally, after about three hours of that, he changed it up. He added a rapid dripdripdripdripdrip followed by a slow ........drip ........drip ........drip ........ followed by silence ........ (I assume he's listening) ........ then he begins again with the original mid-tempo and repeats. He's also moving around a lot and, as the night deepens, getting further and further away. Right now he's quiet. It's a big, lonely world out there.

Mango Party!

Alligator Creek in pending rain at sunset

After stocking up on mangoes last Saturday, we had high hopes for the week but things got off to a rough start. Maggots. Our little plan to "follow the mango" sounds great, is great, but like everything else, you can't walk the walk without paying some dues. You want to go to the tree and gather in your own hands it's sweet, ripe fruit? Then you're going to pay some dues.

Mango Party!

Every night we have a mango party here on Alligator Creek. M. Lee halves two mangoes and it's a go. We start by gnawing the pits clean then move on to the custardy goodness of the mango itself. Only last Tuesday, one of the mangoes had a soft spot. Still, being newbies in the world of mangoes, we ignored it until M. Lee noticed that there were little squiggly things in the lovely orange flesh of the half mango cupped in his hands. Maaaaaaaggots! Okay. It was traumatic! Horrifying! Stupefying! Revolting! And for a brief moment, I feared that the dark shadow of trauma would taint my love of mangoes forever but come on! You can't let a few maggots get you down. They're going to win anyway. You know. In the end. It's not the mango's fault. It was a hard moment though. Our faith in Jack wavered, but only briefly. I'm sure he had a maggot or two in a mango now and then by the time he reached his feisty old age. Here's the deal. We've gotten lots of mangoes from the Mango Factory and they are, hands down, the sweetest, tastiest, most delicious mangoes around. So this one was overripe. No big deal. And besides, I wouldn't want a mango that a maggot wouldn't eat. I just want to get to it first.

Nightly no frills mango party

So, as the week rolled on, we got back into the spirit of things, slowly at first but we're back to full steam, though I do look now, something I never did in the past. I'm sure Jack looked too. It comes with the territory.

Tulips

"Before they came the air was calm enough,
Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.
Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.
Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river....."
(excerpt from "Tulips" by Sylvia Plath)

This via Buzzfeed via Brain Pickings. Sylvia Plath reading her poem "Tulips".


I did not realize she was also an artist.

Insect conversation

Insect slow call and answer in monotone rhythm across the brackish swamp tonight. It is soothing, this conversation, in spite of the hollow whoosh of traffic. I wish the humans would just sit down and shut up.

As July deepens

We went to The Mango Factory out on Pine Island again today, Jack's mangoes. When it comes to growing mangoes, Jack made it an art. Back in '64 he planted his seedlings 33 ft. apart so that, full grown, each tree would enjoy full light. Today they're the best on the island. Hell. I'll say it. Best in the world, though we are dedicated to putting that idea to the test. So, with that in mind, we came home with a couple of bags of big, right off the tree, mangoes. Should last the week. Thanks, Jack.

Mango Jack.
What's not to love about this guy?
(picture on the wall at the Mango Factory)

Floridians are funny. Seems a lot of them don't much care for mangoes. Must be those shady backyard homegrowns. Anyway, there was a  good old boy and his wife also at the Mango Factory today. She was walking around the bins, basket on her hip, obviously excited to be at the source while he followed behind, arms folded across his chest, chin tucked down. She'd hold up a mango for his approval and he'd mutter, "I dunno", "You decide", or "I'm not gonna eat 'em". But there was also a fellow there from the Caribbean. He had the Eye. Lucky we got there when we did. Like us, he was stocking up.

Finally a couple of Ibises came by.
They like to graze the grass after a good rain.

As far as life on Alligator Creek is going, DD (Diego's Daughter) the squirrel and I have a nice little thing going but it's very low key. As you may recall, last time we were here, my everyday, all day peanut party turned tragic when the hawk noticed it so this time I'm doing things differently. DD has breakfast, a few peanuts, and that's it until late afternoon. At that point, if I'm on the screen porch, she comes up, looks me in the eye, quietly chitters a bit then goes back down, I follow, put a few peanuts around the Pineapple Palm, refresh the seed for the doves, and that's that. Simple. One other squirrel occasionally drops by which turns immediately into a skirmish but otherwise we have a quiet little scene going. Much as I'd like to be all things to all squirrels, I can't.

Tonight I'm sitting out on the screen porch as usual, the monitor brightness turned to the lowest setting. The frogs are chatting in the dark and the little guy who buzzes like a warehouse buzzer is buzzing back and forth with his friends and Sonny Boy just got back from wherever. He wasn't gone long. He took his mom's car which she didn't seem to be completely down with. He's 51 but you know how niggly parents can be. Usually when he does these little runs it's around midnight, I assume after they go to bed. Also, thunder continues to rumble in the distance and, between flash torrents of rain, guys along the creek are setting off their remaining fireworks. The last ones were directly across from where I'm sitting and just past the mangroves. I'm not wearing my glasses so they were especially sparkly and starry. If that was the last of it, it made for a grande finale. The mangroves are also occasionally back-lit by lightning which is nice and, after a week of really heavy rain, five times the average, Alligator Creek is beginning to smell rather heady, like a swamp.

Road's Eye View

Amid the thunder, rumble, pops, crackles, rips, hisses, thuds, cracks, bangs, shots and blasts exploding all around Alligator Creek tonight for fucking hours now, the cacophony of Fourth of July firework celebrations complete with fragments of a late night drunken domestic argument drifting across the creek, there are creatures in yard, I don't know what ... frogs? ... insects? ... I can't tell, telegraphing each other through the now dark ... extended, one note buzzes and someone, a bird perhaps adding a tuneless, usually descending one note, whistle. Are they assuring each other that it will be, they will be, okay? I'm here. I'm here. We're okay. I don't know but it seems like it.

Pausing to remember

Franz Kafka

Franz Kafka. It's nearly midnight now but still July 3 and therefore the 130th anniversary of his birth. I feel a kinship with him. And the cockroach. So today is also a good time remember my friends Delicata, Nugget and Ha'penny.

Delicata, Ha'penny, Nugget
L. to R.

That is all.

The nothing moments we call our lives

It's been raining for a couple of days now and projections for more run out to the end Weatherunderground's 10 day forecast, well really till the end of summer I suppose. It is the rainy season after all. M. Lee and I got caught in it during a Sunday bike ride, which was fine. It only lasted long enough to get us half soaked so we were dry before we got back to our little cracker shack. Since then the intensity has ramped up. There's a big weather front sitting out over the coast and that's that. Rain. Tropical variety. And since Florida is basically paved over wetlands to begin with, no surprise that the house is standing in water and the creeks and intra-coastal waterways are brimming. Haven't seen any alligators swim by yet but I wouldn't be surprised.

So, of course, as part of my ongoing series of real life videos about nothing, I did a video of Saturday's rain from the screen porch. When we are home, M. Lee prefers to remain inside with the air on but Swami, Minerva and I spend most of our time out on the porch. It's really quite lovely there.

A day gone by

Coffee with friends in the morning, then the gym, home, lunch, errands then the beach, Casey Key north. The shore there is buried in crushed shells. Hard walking but we went a few miles up then back. Storm surge is eating the beach, undercutting banks and trees, piling sand on stairs protected by red "Private - Keep Out" signs. Incoming tide this afternoon. It was a bit rough and seaweedy but warm and I stayed in for a long time standing up to my neck, facing the Gulf's western edge, rising and sinking in waves that mirrored the sky...mercurial blue, white, silver waves reflecting the blue and billowy white cloud sky above the horizon which disappeared every time a surge fused them, sea and sky, making the world suddenly austere and slightly threatening.

Future histories tonight and as the century wears on

If you haven't read Jeff Goodell's article in Rolling Stone do. Goodbye, Miami is a must read. And it's not just about Miami or coastal cities. In the overall, it's a peek at the future history of human life on earth.

As for what's going on tonight here on Alligator Creek, lots of ambient sound though traffic on the nearby through street is beginning to settle down at last as is the white noise whoosh of the Tamiami Trail and, just as different sections of an orchestra rise then give way others, the occasional sound of an AC unit snapping on in this, or one of the other two inhabited houses on our dead end street, punctuates the air or the sound of voices or a dog barking in the distance drifts across the water and the squawks and chirps and rhythmic buzzing in the mangroves rise and fall and night settles down around the Gulf and turtles begin crawling up out of the sea to dig their nests and lay their eggs, I notice the sound of palm fronds stirring in the breeze. Eventually I'll hear the gurgles, slaps and splashes of the creek talking to itself and aquatic beings moving through its water.

Morning after the storm before

A frog is happily chirping under one of the palm trees this morning. Doves are cooing in the trees and all across Alligator Creek birds are twittering in the mangroves. I even hear traffic coming from where giant green lightning flashed last night and yes, I'm here listening to it all from the screen porch which I'm currently sharing with some nasty little no-see-ums who must have squeezed in last night to get out of the storm and also survived to see another day. That is all.

Supermoon (and Pluto) report

Last night when I saw photos of the supermoon people in London were already posting it was just too much. Clouds be damned! I grabbed my camera and we took off for the jetty. We got there about a half hour before sunset.

Fisherman on the jetty

The minus tide and soon-to-rise full and super moon made fishing good for everyone but the fish. Pelicans, egrets, dolphins and humans were all working one angle or another with a fair amount of success.


I positioned myself at a prime location on the rocks but out on the jetty there's an unspoken agreement that fisherman outrank photographers so, when a mouthy Jersey guy grandpa (that's him on the left in next photo) started maneuvering his flock toward where I obviously was waiting for the moon, I had to move.

Supermoon conjunct Pluto rising.
There are astrological implications.

Lucky for me. Checking my trusty Google Sky Map app, I saw that the moon (surprise surprise) conjunct Pluto was already above the horizon which meant that, clouds or not, the moon was behind those trees to the far right. Damn! While I stand photographing my phone.

YIKES!

We scrambled eastward. Of course the supermoon was mostly hidden by the clouds but we got a good bench with a view and sat. It was a beautiful night, though a bit on the chilly side, 90 degrees, but it felt like 80. I guess we've adapted. Anyway, we sat on the bench and took in the evening and what there was of the moon as people on the next bench over chatted away....


...while a group of people across the channel sang their moonstruck hearts out in the dark.

Full supermoon on Alligator Creek

OK. That's it. I'm sitting on the screen porch. It's midnight. There's a huge thunder storm going on. Rain is pummeling the tin roof. Thunder is shaking the floor and making the wall tremble. It's like bombs going off. Giant lightning bolts are touching down all around cracking like horrible whips. I shudder and cringe like a poor dog. In case this is the last thing I ever do I better post this now.

No moon but a big moon

It's cloudy here this evening so there's really no point going to the beach in hopes of seeing tonight's Supermoon. And, if it's anything like last night, the minus tide will also be a bust. But last night there sure were a lot of those tiny burrowing clams writhing in the sand, in a good way of course. Anyway, happy moon watching if you're lucky enough to have clear skies tonight and, it was Friday, but happy summer solstice.

Colbert Report...Rep. Steve King wants Chickens to suck it up.

Conservatives, gotta love 'em or not. Rep. Steve King claims he has a better way for chickens to live and Steve Colbert is all over it.

Minus tides

We were out at the beach today at the beginning of a minus tide. That's what you want if you're looking for shells and shark's teeth. The Gulf of Mexico is full of teeth, millions of years of teeth. But it's always luck o' the wave. Today I came home with only one decent tooth but seven excellent small conch shells, the kind hermit crabs inhabit, and a spiral. Taking them away from the sea, the birth water, taking them "home", inside, washing the sand off of them later felt bad. When Thea and Leo come I will scatter them back on the beach for them to find.

Poca Piña

She has her father's tail but she lives in her mother's house, the giant pineapple palm in the front yard. It was Frida's sole domain when she was alive. At that time it was pruned but has since gone wild. It's not as "lovely" but safer which is a good thing because the hawk is about. From where I sit I used to be able to see palm trees in the background, making for some damn lovely photos. Now Frida's palm is a jungle galaxy all its own, both dead and alive, stretching it's gargantuan radius in all directions. It is on a feeding frenzy like the humungous cannibal galaxy NGC 1132 was before it devoured all of its neighbors. I even fear for our little cracker palace.

Poca Piña

Anyway, Poca Piña lives there, which makes me very happy.

Frida's daughter and the old man and birds by the sea

Morning on Alligator Creek
another in my scintillating series of real life non-action vids
Life is good again on Alligator Creek. Sonny Boy was back on the screen porch this morning putting the record straight. I was beginning to worry when he didn't come home Friday night. It just wouldn't be the same without him. And the peanuts did disappear the same day I put them out. We saw her this morning up in Frida's pineapple palm, one little squirrel, surely Frida's daughter.

And we finally got out to the Gulf today and the old guy that the Great Blue Heron found so fascinating when we were here a couple of years ago was there today, sitting in his chair reading as always. The Heron wasn't around but I am going to assume he will show at eventually. The frigatebirds, known to stay aloft for over a week at a time, were there floating on the currents, the magnificent pelicans soared by and the water was 86°.

The Cheap

I've been meaning to write about this for awhile then, after Alligator Creek Update, Don from In A Perfect World asked about finding cheap getaways in real neighborhoods with real people, i.e. places to write. Always the question, isn't it?

This place showed up on craigslist and it's a GREAT deal, half off because it's the low season. Traveling off season is one of the key elements for us to be able to do what we do, plus renting via P2P sites like AirBnB and VRBO. Lucky for us all, it's worldwide. We get cheap places with kitchens and mostly cook variations of the Caribbean diet...rice, beans, veggies, sometimes a little fish or cheese, oatmeal for breakfast, sack lunches, leftovers for dinner. That kind of thing. We drove to Florida but otherwise we use public transportation and walk ...all easy on the pocketbook. Also we avoid "nice" restaurants, coffee shops and fetching little sidewalk cafés plus neither of us drink or drug which keeps expenses down. Mostly we live like the rest of the neighborhood except that I go to open mic poetry events but they're free and, of course, internet is essential. Okay, a lot of this is lifestyle but, for us, P2P rental is essential. Did I mention we don't skydive, zip line, shop, ride elephants etc. etc. You know. Cheap.

Alligator Creek update

Florida.

I started this in the morning while sitting here on the screen porch drinking coffee but now it's night and I'm back and at it again, this time listening to an exotic cacophony of birds. And, though it's nearly full on night, billowy white clouds are still visible in the sky. As there are no city lights to speak of, I wonder if it's light reflecting off the Gulf? Anyway, we are back staying in the little shack on Alligator Creek. We got in about 3 AM this morning but I'm still on Pacific time so I'm not that tired plus it's really hot. It will take a few days to adjust.

As for South Venice, not a lot has changed. Seems Sonny Boy is still living across the street with his decrepit parents. At least this morning they were all out on their screen porch running it down to each other in very loud, very raspy voices. It was quite the lively discussion. Then a smoking car pulled up and he left and he's not back yet, or at least he hasn't assumed his usual post on the screen porch. Ah well. It's Friday night but I hope he still lives with them. I like hearing the drift of his phone conversations at night and seeing the glow of his laptop through the porch screens. Tonight, it's just me out here on this dead end street sitting in computer glow in the dark that has settled over Alligator Creek. But who knows what's going to happen next? Currently there's a hand-scrawled "4 SALE" sign stuck at a crooked angle by their mailbox. And no matter what, his mom and dad, though miracles of modern medicine, won't be around much longer anyway.

And so far I haven't seen one squirrel. It's only been a day but I have seen two hawks or one twice. When I was here last time this place was a frolicking squirrel playground then Frida was killed by a hawk. I'm afraid I upset the balance by putting all those peanuts out. Will I put peanuts out this time? Yeah. I suppose. Does that bother me? Yes, but I know I'll do it anyway. It's a conundrum. I know it's self-serving but I need/want to have wildlife around.

Other than that, Barky the dog and his family are gone. According to Zillow that house was foreclosed. It's really dark now and I don't see the clouds anymore nor are any birds singing.

Florida again

Florida

Tampa Bay bridge aka Sunshine Skyway Bridge at 2 AM. Hey Florida! We're baaaack.

Swami and Minerva
crossing the Tampa Bay bridge.

Heart home

Thea and Leo at Farmer's Market

Once again, our time in Portland has come to an end. Tomorrow we head back to Florida for the summer. It's been a great visit, but not without some trouble. Last week, Thea came down with a terrible cold but it's on the wane. She even managed to dance in her ballet recital yesterday. Luckily the other two grandkids. Frank and Leo, have stayed healthy. I've been far too busy with the kids to keep up here. Later. Right now, I'm beat. Must sleep.

Another thing I love about Portland

Snapshot lost in time

This will have to be short. I'm in Portland and it's a whirlwind. Today we took Leo and Thea to the Children's Museum. It was a blast. Yesterday we walked to opening day of the neighborhood Farmer's Market on Woodstock Ave. Great people watching, true Portlandia, complementary doggie water bowls in the garden, a pair of overweight Labs at one, drowsy Goldens at another and  charming mutts lounging at a third.

Running recap, take 3.

I recently downloaded the Blogger app for my android. At first I was elated by the prospect of writing and publishing as the freeway miles unroll behind us but now, after a couple of posts have been devoured by the void, things don't look so rosy. Of course, it's probably my fault or at least the machines are very good at making it look that way. I told myself to jump right back in and rewrite them while the words still hung in the air but I was too damn frustrated.

Sunday morning in New York
with family.

Anyway, just to say by way of recap, the wedding event was simple and sweet. They were married in December so this was the blessing presided over by my, almost a priest once, brother-in-law. That's him, top photo (r). Great guy.

My sister, aka mother of the groom

Tonight we're in Georgia. We spent the afternoon walking around Savannah. The old town center is perfectly beautiful, historic and a shallow tourist trap but it works for me. We had a great lunch at the Sentient Bean, a local veggie cafe/coffee shop. They were even hosting an open mic tonight. I considered reading. I'd love to have added Savannah to my world tour list but we have a really long day tomorrow. We drive to Venice, unload the car, drive to Tampa, spend the night then get up at 4 am and catch a flight to Portland. Got to see the grandkids don't you know.

"Life is worth living"

Those four words are posted at the entrance to New York's Verrazano bridge. I hope they have successfully persuaded would-be jumpers to reconsider. Life is worth living. Even so-called "dead ends" generally turn into new beginnings if you give them time enough.

NYC from the Verranzo bridge

Swami & Minerva crossing the Verranzo bridge

Bye-bye Brooklandia

Leaving Brooklyn. Most perfect weather we've had here... blue blue blue sunny skies after two weeks of mostly rain, wind and cold. But of course I don't complain. Just report.

The wedding was a great success... beautiful, sweet, tender, sad and, well, cold which will make for a warmer memory. Pictures to follow, probably.

So...next stop Wilson, North Carolina and a "tasty" dinner tonight at the Golden Corral because we can piece together a cheap vegetarian meal there. If you don't know what that is consider yourself fortunate.

The Wedding Party

Ok. D-day. In one half hour we're off to the wedding party. It's really the reason behind this whole trip to DC and NYC. To celebrate our nephew's recent wedding. We are wearing grown-up clothes. My stomach is full of butterflies. Why? Sad isn't it? M. Lee just googled how to tie a half-Windsor knot. I'm wearing heels, well they kind of look like motorcycle boot sandals but they have an elevated heel heel like ladies wear. Ok. Gotta go.

Ps. The half-Windsor looks good.

Rainy day, Brooklyn

We've been in New York for a week now and have spent most of that time at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It's huge. They have over two million objects in archive. I am beginning to wonder if we are not, in fact, masochists. The Smithsonian already kicked our asses. We went to 15 out of the 17 museums, but still left DC beaten, heads bowed, oodles of art yet unseen.

Our Brooklyn airbnb apartment,
the three windows above the grocery store.
That's M. going in the door.

Yesterday, we took a quick pass through Strawberry Fields, the John Lennon memorial in Central Park. In all, it's a couple of acres but most people just stop long enough to take a photo of themselves by the "Imagine" mosaic embedded in the sidewalk. Naturally the place has a self-appointed, Yoko approved, "Mayor of Strawberry Fields" and yesterday the Mayor was in. M. Lee hates guys like this so, when the Mayor began rounding up the tourists for his schtick, he wanted to immediately leave. I thought about staying to take a couple of photos but then decided against it. The memorial feels sweet, sad and empty. Seemed best to leave it at that.

View of the street from our apartment

As usual, we eat breakfast and lunch at home and take sandwiches with us when we're out during the day. For treats, we found a bakery in Chinatown that sells excellent red bean buns and mochi balls. And here in Flatbush, only two blocks from our apartment, Kabir's Bakery sells most delicious giant samosas for a dollar so this rainy Sunday we stayed home, had samosas for lunch and did laundry.

Small but nice, with a kitchen.

I have yet to find a place to read poetry. Places favor rap and spoken word, which I don't do, and most readings start late here in the City that never sleeps. Anyway, New York is already listed on my world tour. I read here in the '60s in the basement of St. Mark's in the Bowery before it was taken over by academics. Yes, Gingburg and Orlovsky also read that night and no, they did not speak to me, a mere girl.

Kabir's Bakery, Brooklyn
Great samosas, one dollar.

Tomorrow, MOMA.

Peter and the Starcatcher

Peter and the Starcatcher was absolutely enthralling. It was hard waking to the gray morning after an evening of such wonderful language and spectacle. Everyone was perfect. And all on such a small stage. Brilliant. I read that Peter is going on the road beginning this August. If it comes to a theater anywhere near you...GO!!! Here's the schedule schedule.

Friends along the way

NYC
As usual, I'm on the run so this has to be brief. We made a new friend last night. It's a friend of a friend kind of thing. Anyway, we're going to a play with him tonight. As a member of the Actor's Guild, he can get discount tickets so the three of us are going tonight to see Peter and the Starcatcer. Should be good. It won five Tony Awards when it was on Broadway. Now it's moved to a smaller off-Broadway location. Okay. Gotta go.

Enter the Blue Cloud

I have no idea how I got this photo. I took it from the car as we were driving across the country but, at the time, I was completely unaware of that strange blue cloud leaking in from the top.

Strange photo taken on the road

Perhaps M. Lee is right. Perhaps we do live in a sim.

Other than that, we are in NY, Brooklyn to be exact and, of course, M. Lee is tapping his foot by the door so gotta go.

my perfunctory arty ny subway pic

Nuts

One fateful day, Squirrel and Mr. Donut cross paths.

Notes in passing

Spaceman and me.

Went to the National Archives today. I have never been in a building with so many brass doors. Even the bathroom doors are brass and gigantic. The Archives are the home of important historical documents such as the US Constitution, the Bill of Rights, Declaration of Independence and the Magna Carta. Oddly, of these four, the Magna Carta, from 1297, is in the best shape. In comparison, the Declaration of Independence, 1776, has almost completely faded away and the Constitution and Bill of Rights aren't doing very well either. However, the room they are in, the manner in which they are displayed and the Security surrounding them is so opulent, reverential and threatening that it wouldn't matter if comic books were under the layers of brass, glass and watchful eyes, they would inspire awe.

Glenn Curtiss
1907s Fastest Man in the World.

We also visited the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. It houses everything from the Wright brother's airplanes and Glenn Curtiss's V-8 motorcycle to the Command Module which ferried astronauts to and from the moon and a full-scale replica of the same Voyager I which is on its deep space mission, never to return. Besides sending information back to Earth, Voyager is carrying the Golden Record with pictures and sounds of Earth and detailed information about where our planet is located. I hope that's a good idea.

This evening, back in our little makeshift basement apartment on Capitol Hill, the domestic battle raging upstairs all week continues. It's really sad. Their baby chirps away happily in morning and they are at each others throats at night then the silent treatment.

Seventeen days

That's how long we've been gone but it seems so much longer. We've traversed many worlds, visited a time whorl and now are here in the center of world power, the US capital. Yesterday, passing by some nice rocking chairs under a rose arbor on the Mall, we dipped in for a sit. One of my many mottoes is never pass up a fine rocking chair. No, I'm not "ready" for one but they are fun for a pause. So we sat there under the just budding vines, under gray skies and got into an interesting conversation with an older black woman who was also rocking away. She claimed to be in the DOD and, if it were true, it sounded like she really had her ear to the ground, foreign ambassadors, street rumors...all that. I decided to believe her. It's more fun that way. M. Lee did not.

Anyway, I still haven't included anything about our visit to New Vrindaban and now the whole thing is receding in the rear view mirror. I fully intend to post some photos for my own future reference and my kids, if they are so inclined. This is, after all, a blog aka diary. And I'm still preparing myself for the task of wearing actual grown up clothes to this wedding on the 25th, an actually dress, high heels, M. Lee in a tailored suit. Holy shit! I was born wearing jeans. So we're going to do it, and it will probably be fun, but damn. I'm just hoping I don't wobble in the heels and twist an ankle.

Ok. Enough of this. Gotta eat my oatmeal now. We're leaving in 15 min. Yes. It's raining.

Rainy Monday

Suitsupply has the right suit for everybody,
even old guys.

On Saturday we managed to get in a bike ride. It was the one, true, though not quite warm sunny day. Including all the noodling, it was about a 25 mile ride which is pretty good for my first ride of the season. Once we crossed the Potomac we jumped on the Mt. Vernon Trail, a multi-use path which follows the river all the way to George Washington's home, though we didn't get that far ourselves.

But we did stop off at the Museum of Natural History on the way home. Oh my god. This museum alone is worth driving across the country for. Outstanding, fabulous and amazing.

And M. Lee's suit was ready yesterday so we picked that up. He looks great. Suitsupply is everything it promises to be but the guy who made it all come together was a fellow named Faouzi. He was wonderful. Fantastic. He knew exactly where the line was for an old guy, modern but appropriate. Photo to follow.

Okay. Gotta go. The Trip Tyrant, M. Lee, is rattling on about how we have to leave in a few minutes.


Note to my future self: 
Hey! Don't be like me. Bring your bike jacket and collapsible water bottle.

Slow Nickels TV

Washington DC

Slow Nickels is an odd name for anything but I suppose it makes sense as a laundromat although it would be more accurate to call the place Lots of Nickles. Anyway, we're at Slow Nickels doing our laundry this morning for the first time since we left Nevada. DC TV news is on. I don't know if its just me but it seems definitely different than TV news anywhere else I've been. The daily political scene plays out more like a battle in a Roman Colosseum, every strike broadcast, who is where doing what and everybody leaning in, keeping up blow by blow, the States themselves watching from front row seats, competing with one another, switching alliances on a moments notice like ringside hustlers buying and selling odds on each and every move. It's mad. OK. Time to fold laundry.

Notes and reflections

Five days in DC now. We're staying about 2.5 mi away from the Mall so everyday we get in a good walk going to and from the museums. The first few days it rained but the last two have been clear blue and warm in the sun. Makes all the difference. We've seen a lot of art, good and bad and some masters, including da Vinci and Rembrandt, and today we checked out the exhibit at the old patent building now the Smithsonian American Art Museum. Their portrait gallery was pretty bad but there is some wonderful, and disturbing, art brut. They refer to it as folk art for whatever reason but it's art brut aka outsider art. Anyway, the exhibit kicked our asses. It's huge. We got there at the end of the day and only had enough energy for the first floor.

Also I ran into a dear old friend from Oregon on the Mall today. Talk about a surprise! She and her husband are in DC visiting family. She called my name from across the street. It was phenomenal. We really don't know what's going to happen in a day, do we? So we did coffee. The event got me brooding again that we didn't stop in Kansas City and have coffee with Roy. I want to totally blame M. Lee for that. He makes plans way in advance and mostly alone. He decides destinations, reservations and even where we'll eat along the way. It's mostly all good so I am in the habit of just going along with things. I really hate admitting I'm so passive. It's a pathetic kind of flaw, a convenient weakness, but blaming him only magnifies it so I can't/don't want to do that. Arg.

Hwy 50 revisited and the wild guys at Suit Supply

Day Eight, DC and such.

Getting into DC we missed the turnoff Mrs. Google wanted us to take so we ended up exiting I-70 on good old Hwy. 50. It was like coming home. We only stayed on it for five miles then once again parted ways, it winding off towards its destination, as Don noted, Ocean City, MD 3073 mi away from its beginning in West Sac. We missed the cherry blossoms...or at least while they were still on the trees though we did pass voluptuous sweeps of fallen blossoms in yards and gutters. Even they are quite lovely, but perhaps that's just my expanded/skewed sense of beauty. Anyway, now that we are "somewhere" we are on military time. M. Lee has a busy day planned so, as usual, I have only minutes to dash off a note.

New Vrindaban didn't have wifi and I didn't want to fiddle with using my phone for one. In any case, that experience will require a little more time to digest so notes on Days Five, Six and Seven will have to wait awhile. Just to say, it was an amazing stop. Much has changed (and not changed) but even M. had a good time and that is saying a lot. So today we are off to Suit Supply. M. needs a suit for my nephew's wedding. He wants them to make him look like this, well except that he's going to still wear socks. 

Day four, "Eat your dinner LIKE THIS."

Columbus Ohio. Went to the Banana Leaf vegetarian Indian restaurant/buffet. Tasty but very strange place. Dinner began with a complete oral tutorial by the owner, six individually served appetizers and a glass of mango juice or mango lassi before we could get our hands on the buffet. We felt like children who had to be good little clean plate-ers with each and every serving before we could have anything else. Anyway, it was a vegetarian joint so, especially after the Limon Denny's, it qualified as a bonafide oasis.

Today, on to New Vrindaban to face down some ghosts and maybe liberate a few. Wish me luck.

Day three, ghosts and hard choices

We both hated Limon, M. Lee even more than I. And I don’t think it was because the place is so small or beat down or because so many of its residents work at the grim prison nearby. There is something else, something very wrong about Limon Colorado then, this evening, we read about the gruesome event that happened there back in 1900 and that feeling of dread and gloom permeating the place made sad and eerie sense.

We were back on the road by seven this morning. We needed to get an early start as today’s destination was Columbia MO, a 650 mile, 10 hour drive. I-70 goes right though Kansas City.  We also wanted to stop and have coffee with Roy. Even weeks before we left home, M. Lee and I discussed the possibility and decided the only way to do it would be to spend the night in KC. Stopping for an hour just wouldn't be enough and anyway, today’s drive was already too long. It was very disappointing but adding another night on the road just didn’t work with the rest of the schedule. We invited him to join us in DC instead. It would be great fun. We really hope he does. Who knows? Far-fetched perhaps but it could happen. We shall see.

Kansas points of interest:
8000 lb. prairie dog
World’s largest ball of twine
Kansas Barbed Wire Museum
Home of President D.D. Eisenhower

Day Two made better by pancakes and Louie C.K.

We stayed in Salina CO last night, had a veggie burger and fries at Denny's and today, after 537 miles, made it to Limon CO. The drive included a grueling passage over the Continental Divide during the tail end of a spring storm. Vail was closed which infuriated M. Lee. Skiers get crazy when they see fresh snow go to waste. At Grand Junction we left Hwy. 50 for Interstate 70 (sorry Roy) and tonight we're in what's left of Limon watching Louie C.K. after a pancake dinner at (where else?) Denny's. You know you're in a small town when photos of the high school prom court make the front page. Before leaving town we stopped at the thrift store and picked up a secondhand towel. We needed a throwaway.

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.