Sonder

T plus 6 days

Blowing dandelions

We're launched and, sadly, that means the Bird Park is closed. Of course, the house sitter keeps one seed tube filled for the little birds but it's too much to ask anyone to do what I do. Damn. Just when it was getting interesting. Maggie Magpie had become comfortable with me being out in the yard with her and Charlie the crow was dropping by mid-morning for his own, private snack. He selected a spot as far away from the main area in the Bird Park as possible, a section of fence under the trees right outside the kitchen window, and from there called until I came out and gave him his peanuts. If we were around more, no telling how this might develop. In summers past he'd perch on the fence opposite my office window, where the main area in Bird Park is located, and pitch his case. That bird can sweet talk. But now we're gone. I'm sure Maggie will keep an eye on things. She always shows up within a day of our return.

Pizza night

But now we're on the road. Of course, as usual, we're starting our adventure in Portland. Gotta see the gkids. The other day four-year old Leo took us to Reed Canyon, a lovely little ravine on the campus of Reed College which is, to Reed's credit, still quiet enough to support nesting ducks and geese. As for Thea, she is currently learning about the universe in kindergarten science class and has "definitely decided, no doubt about it," that I am an alien.

Baby Chance

Breakfast with crows

The crows are dining at the Bird Park this morning. Minerva and I are delighted. They are our honored guests, well not guests, members, honored members. We've been home since January and only recently have they've decided to trust us. They stop by briefly almost every morning now. The fellow munching kibble on the little plastic table is actually much bigger and cooler then he appears here. I took this photo with my cellphone. I don't have a "real" camera at the moment. As I mentioned in the previous post, M. Lee has taken over the Sony. I will have a camera for the trip, a Panasonic Lumix, but it's currently en route to his mom's place in Oregon as we are now in the final countdown and will be going there first. How do they say it when they're launching a space shuttle? T-minus? Around here it is now T-minus 9. I'm already missing my birds.

Remnant thumbnails

My old camera is haunted. Playback shows videos that aren't there. Today I turned the camera over to M. but he found nothing. Then okay. I must have downloaded them and then forgot I did. I'll go with his diagnosis ... remnant thumbnails, phantoms. So it goes. Like dreams that return to haunt you during the day. Strange memories connected to nothing. I've never gotten along with this particular camera anyway, a Sony Cyber-shot. It takes ok photos but I don't like the way it interacts with my computer and I hate the Sony PlayMemories Home software. Now, M. is taking it and I am getting a Lumix. I liked the Lumix I had before, the one I wore out. The Sony and I were just enemies from the start. Sometimes it's like that.

Just for a moment....

...consider this.

The Daily Show
Daily Show Full Episodes,  More Daily Show Videos,  Comedy Central Full Episodes

The probability of pumpkins

Currently M. Lee is putting together our next trip. We'll be gone at least five months so it's a rather complicated itinerary. Besides juggling travel times and ticket prices, he has to find and rent airbnb apartments in nine different cities in seven different countries. He begins each city by researching neighborhoods and setting some basic parameters like price range, dates, keywords etc. Then he enters the labyrinth.

 Finding the middle path...

Source

....that is the goal.

He studies the photos, reads the reviews, google-walks the streets, checks access to public transportation, finds the supermarkets, farmer's markets, parks, museums etc. etc. We stay at least a month in some of these places so these things matter. It's hard on him but I will say this. He comes up with some kick ass plans. He began researching for this trip in January, right after we got home from Thailand. Thus far he claims to have studied over 3000 apartments. Once he does narrow it down to his top picks, he corresponds with the owners because, of course, we always have questions .... bed size, they never mention bed size, internet speeds, noise factor, kitchen, laundry and so on. What they do say is cozy. They all say cozy as though cozy says it all and is all anyone needs to know about anything. That word is now blacklisted around here. And don't sneak it into the conversation as acogedor, douillet or gemütlich. In any language, cozy is still very annoying.

And finally, after all that, we go over the best of picks together and settle on our favorites. Then, and only then, he makes an offer. Sometimes it's accepted, sometimes not. There may be more negotiation, if not, it's back to the list. Only Paris remains on the table but we won't be there until September so it can wait. I want to write, "Paris can wait". It's satisfying to be dismissive of Paris as Paris is so full of itself, but that would mean using the word Paris twice in the same sentence which, to my way of thinking, is somewhat clumsy and a bit obvious so I went with the word it which, perhaps, is even a bit more dismissive of Paris and, even though I like Paris (M. hates it), I like that because, like I said, Paris is full of itself. That sentence, you might notice, is an homage to my new favorite comedian Stewart Lee. But I digress. We leave in a month. The house sitter would be happy if we left tomorrow, but there is so very much to do between now and then.

In mathematics you don't understand things, you just get used to them."
- John von Neumann

Rolling on

She ambles out on stage to a dark house and stands a moment gazing into the gloom. It is the night sky. It is the bottom of the sea. It is where lost dreams gather and discuss amongst themselves what could have been. She listens then turns and walks off stage. One light slowly comes up on the curtain. It parts.

Rest in peace, Sam

"I want medical experiments on animals stopped.
They don't do anything, and they don't work," ~ Sam Simon

Sad day. Sam Simon, co-creator and producer of "The Simpsons", died today at the age of 59. Of course, I love the Simpsons and thank him and cartoonist Matt Groening for that, but even more I love that Sam, who earned tens of millions annually from the show, donated his entire fortune to charity, including many foundations working to secure animal rights and welfare. Thank you, Sam. You will be missed.


"Veganism is an answer for almost every problem
facing the world in terms of hunger and climate change.
~ Sam Simon

Sap Moon

Source: Four Mile Lab

There are many names for it among Native Americans, Sap Moon, Little Spring Moon, Snow Crust Moon.  Earthsky.org calls it micro-moon and mini-moon. In any case, tonight's full moon (exact at 4:05 p.m. PST /18:05 UTC) is the smallest full moon of the year because today is also the lunar apogee – which means the moon is at it's farthest point from earth. Today it is 30,000 miles (48280 km)farther away from Earth than the full supermoon and the Northern Hemisphere’s Harvest Moon which both happen later this year.

So, enjoy the Sap Moon. The bees are. Today, finally, they showed up. I was very concerned that spring had come too early because the pussy willow tree are blooming and, unlike years past, no bees have come to harvest its abundant pollen and enjoy its delicious, rich sap. But today, on Sap Moon, they arrived and the tree is filled with their buzzing.

Source: Condesign and Pixabay

News at 08:21

Ok. Time to crank the wheel and roll this page down. The world has given Mr. Spock a loving, sad farewell and now it's time to move on.

So.... as for today.... not a lot going on here in Nevada, at least outside my window. A grackle is currently strolling through the Bird Park. A covey of quail are out nibbling seed, along with the new resident doves. A few red wing black birds are on the feeders. The lovely flicker pair are gobbling the apples along with several starlings. And, as always, finches are hopping around. They are the first to arrive and the last to go.

And, of course, Maggie Magpie is keeping an eye on things. At the moment she is perched in the now dead aspen tree I planted several a few years ago. Big mistake. Runners started popping up everywhere. I've since read that the aspen holds the world's record for largest living organism on earth. Yes. That lovely, whispering forest, which in autumn turns the mountain side brilliant gold, is one tree. One. Learn from my mistake. Don't plant one in your front yard. You will be mowing it forever.

But my little grove of three, that's right, I planted three, my little grove of three died. Guess I got lucky. It's kind of ugly but I had them topped and left their trunks standing so the birds could perch in them. Sooner or later I will remove them because it looks stupid but, for now, they stand and Maggie is sitting in one.

So. Have a good day or at least a day.

Whatever alternate universe you travel, be well Mr. Spock

Back in the acid days, I held out hope that Mr. Spock

Photo source: Emmy TV Legends

 would beam me up so I could apprentice with him.
Who knows? Perhaps he will yet. 

Remember Sunder?

If you love happy endings, you're going to love this one.

If you were one of the thousands of people who signed the petitions and/or donated to Sunder's legal expenses.... thank you, thank you. He is now free and lives in India's first ever free-roaming, forested, elephant sanctuary established by PETA India, Bannerghata Biological Park. Petitions work. Keep caring. Keep signing!

Me and Dali

They say the camera doesn't lie....
but does it?

MOCA (Museum of Modern Art), Bangkok

Happy dark of the moon and Lunar New Year, 2015

Dark of the moon & Lunar New Year

I really like the Google sky map app. I use others as well but, for a quick look at the heavens, sky map works just fine. This image is from last night about 6:30, but what the hell? As you can see, the sun, moon and Neptune are conjunct in Aquarius and have just disappeared below the Western horizon. Happy dreamy New Age Lunar New Year!

Archive update

I just added a poem to my poetry archive, AnnaSadhorse. It's one I wrote in 2004 and published here at Language Barrier on August 30, 2005, the day after hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans. Anyway, I just got around to adding it to AnnaSadhorse. The imagery is violent, but necessarily so, as it describes a time when light must find us because we cannot find it. It's called Spirit Barrier.

Sometimes life's a bitch

Friday's wild storm had gusts up to 90 miles an hour and, between the valley and Lake Tahoe, left 21,000 people without power, some until Sunday. And that night, after the wind knocked down sections of the fence between our houses, it also brought Roxie crying to our door. She's my neighbor's so-called "outside" dog. I realize she's a hardy mix but he left after the storm began and left her out in it, as usual. Don't get me started on "outside" dogs. I will never agree with people who think dogs should live outside, whatever the weather. Fine. Wolves do it but they live in packs and have dens. Dogs are domesticated creatures who also need a pack and a den. Anyone sitting warm and cozy in their fat while their dog huddles alone outside in the rain and cold is an asshole. So, even though her paws were caked with mud, we let her in.

Uninvited guest and the magpies are pissed

And about 2 am we let her back back out again. We had to. She was pacing and whining and beginning to howl. Her "owner" barely interacts with her, so she's basically feral. She doesn't even wag. We felt bad but didn't lose any sleep over it. It's just the way it had to be.

Morning guest. Roxie at the door

Five sections of fence are down and Roxie is still wandering around the three yards that are now open to each other. Fine by me but the birds don't like it. Yesterday morning, she ate most of their kibble and was back at the sliding door begging to come in, even throwing herself at the glass, I handed her some dog treats through the door then closed it again. Sometimes, life's a bitch.

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. 

Goodbye Thailand, for now

We're seven hours into a 36 hour trip. We left this morning at 4 AM and are currently sitting in the Hong Kong airport waiting for our connecting flight to LA.

As we are flying back in time, we will arrive in Oregon two hours after we left. At this point, I don't have time for anything more than a quick update.

Hanuman grabbing Swami

Yesterday Swami almost ran off with Hanuman and the Thai Puppet Theatre.

You could say Hanuman kidnapped him but I'm guessing it was a collusion between the two.

Either way, Swami took off with him and, for a moment, I thought I might never see him again... again. But Haunman brought him back.

He is a gentleman, after all.

It was a strange and perfect reenactment of Swami's disappearance in Cambodia last year and s his return this year. He's waiting for us in Portland. We should be there by the weekend.  Can't wait to see him and those grandkids. They are all growing up way too fast

Je suis Charlie

Nous sommes Charlie

Graphic by: by Lucille Clerc


Here are a couple of thoughtful articles reflecting on some of the more obscure, but extremely important issues, related to the horrific massacre at Charlie Hebdo last week. They are right on and well worth a read.

Why the Charlie Hebdo attack goes far beyond free speech and religion by Andrew O'Hehir

Unmournable Bodies by Teju Cole

Monkey time

Me and a basically wild Dusky Langur

It's 2558 here in Thailand, at least according to the Thai (Buddhist) calendar. That's okay with me. I love that different cultures have totally different systems for measuring the passing of time. The Gregorian calendar (as in Pope Gregory XIII) used in 'merica, is not the one and only system. In Nepal this is the 2071st century. The Persian, Kurdish and Afghan calendars all agree that this is 1393. Of course, everyone knows it's the 13th baktun and the Islamic calendar calls this 1436 and leap year so watch you don't go down that rabbit hole.

Me handing a Dusky Langur dude a tasty almond.

Then there's Unix time. Wisely, implementations defining the result of the time() function as type time_t were added which will keep the whole system from going negative on January 19, 2038 (in the Gregorian calendar) thus saving us all from the dreaded doomsday second. Thanks guys. And, no. Don't ask me to explain that.

So, what's my point? Ten Eleven years ago I was waiting out a snow storm and in geological time none of this amounts to the twinkling of an eye so I don't know. Do I need one? Ok. Like the Buddha said, "When you meet a monkey on the road, give 'em a tasty treat".

By any calculation, it's treat time

As for me, we're in Bangkok now, so no Dusky Langurs, I so miss those little guys, but I'll try to be nice too.

Happy 2558 aka 2015 etc.
Bangkok

Dusky Langurs

Dusky Langurs . . .
An afternoon spent with Dusky Langues is an afternoon well spent.
I love these guys. That is all.

Swami, one year later

A story is like a river. Sometimes a river disappears, but that doesn't necessarily mean it has dried up. Sometimes it goes underground where it travels, not just miles, but hundreds or thousands of miles through the secret earth before resurfacing... to be it's own same/never-the-same self again, like it always was.

The thread of this story disappeared amid the ruins of Angkor Wat, leaving us with the clangorous ring of the cicada and the rattle and whir of Mr. Keen's tuk tuk as our only comfort in the dark broken heart of Cambodia.

This story began a year ago almost to the day and is in three parts, here, here and here. If you've never met Swami, I took this video in Ankor Wat last December, about a half hour before he disappeared. It's good way to get to know him before reading further.

 Swami riding in Mr. Keen's tuk tuk

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One year ago Swami, our beloved traveling companion of nearly 15 years, disappeared at Angkor Wat. It was totally my fault. I was careless. He was very vulnerable riding in his little bag. I kept telling myself I should make a harness for him but never did.

M. Lee and I were heartbroken. It wasn't like losing a family member. Swami is family. It was devastating. But, traveling without him is inconceivable so he immediately "reincarnated" as coral Swami. I know. We're odd.

Me flouting a warning at the cursed temple of Ta Keo

But here's the thing. After that first, heart stopping moment when we realized Swami was gone, the idea that we'd never see him again was simply and totally unthinkable. To even consider such a thing was not only preposterous, it was impossible. We knew he would return. He just had to.

Swami contemplating Swami

So, this last year, we've combed secondhand stores, gift shops, baby boutiques, toy stores, junk shops, art museums, Pintrest, Etsy, Ebay and countless other websites hoping to find him or someone who could make a new yellow Swami body. Family and friends, old and new, joined the search, some even volunteering to sew a new one and finally we realized that, unskilled as we are, M. Lee and I would have to figure out how to make the yellow Swami body ourselves.

Swami with his friend Andy

at the old Whitney Museum in New York

Then a few weeks ago, almost exactly a year to the day since Swami disappeared, a very strange thing happened. Totally out of the blue, and in his usual innocent and cheery way, Coral Swami turned to me and said, "Yellow Swami is coming back". We didn't know what to make of it. How could he know? On the other hand, how could he not know?  But last week, when we were still in Chiang Mai, M. Lee stumbled on this.

Yes, yes. Click the button and watch the scary, bad clowns.

We replayed the part around 0:35 seconds, where HAM sprinkles vinegar on everything and stuffs his mouth with more chips. The music is building as he picks up the newspaper, sees the picture of a little yellow dude in the ad section, throws his bike into high gear and roars off into the store to claim him. And we paused at 1:07, the part where HAM first sees the little yellow dude on the shelf. so that we could read and re-read the name on the wall.... Flat Eric! Of course, we had checked out Flat Eric before but the searches never led anywhere. This time was different.

And don't miss this one. It is part of the narrative.

Flat Eric

What happened next went as fast as the gunfight but had a better ending. M. Lee did a quick search for Flat Eric. That took him to a six-year-old discussion where someone had posted a link to the German Ebay account of a guy named buecherfritzke01 who sells second hand collectibles and there he was... Swami! We bought him immediately and, within the next 24 hours, buecherfritzke01 sent him on his way. Thank you very much. And a couple of days ago yellow Swami arrived in America! The mailer was beat up and taped back together, but he is still smiling. Now he is waiting for us in Portland, Oregon. I hear he's hanging out with some crazy Christmas angels there. We'll be home in January, Swami! See you then.

Swami, resurfacing at last

So, thank you HAM, Mr. Oizo (aka Quentin Dupieux) and Flat Eric. And thank you Dalai Lama and the Tulkas, and Mr. buecherfritzke01 wherever you are. And especially thank you, our family and friends. The fact that you guys get it and care, or at least care, makes all the difference. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a year of wondering where and how Yellow Swami disappeared that day, I came to the conclusion that it was right by this tree in front of Angkor Thommanon. As we were approaching the temple, a group of young girls suddenly surrounded me with a tight circle, talking and waving souvenirs in my face all the while then, as suddenly, they were gone.

Angkor Thommanon
by the tree where Swami disappeared

It was then I noticed he was gone. We immediately questioned everyone in the vicinity as best we could given no one spoke English or seem at all interested in what we were tying to convey with photos and body language. After that, Mr. Keen drove us back to the cursed temple of Ta Keo, although everything seemed pretty cursed at that point.

So now, one year almost to the day, he's back . . . he's home with us. Coral Swami was right.

Swami contemplating the full moon
Ko Kood, Thailand 2013

PS.  No. I do not think M. Lee is at all like Mr. Oizo and certainly I, in no way, resemble his tailgate buddy so don't even go there.

Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice is my personal New Year's Eve but I've not got anything special planned this year. I'm not at home. I'm not in my own country. I don't even have a candle to light. I am observing the solstice quietly, in passing, a moment of reflect ion on this, the longest night of the year, a moment of peace in the pause as the earth rounds it course and begins it's journey back towards the light. Best wishes in the coming new year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S.
I'm not posting it like I have other years but, if you like, here's a link to a Winter Solstice poem I wrote some time ago.

Hua Hin

Big Buddha near Hua Hin

So we're now in Hua Hin, a beach town located on the west coast of the Gulf of Thailand. It's a lot like Florida's gulf coast towns in that it's half ghost town. Hua Hin is close to Bangkok so there are a lot of second homes, weekend get-away condos and apartments. Even the King has a residence here.

Dogs will be dogs and so will we

We're staying in an apartment M. Lee found on Airbnb. It's right on the beach overlooking the Gulf and much nicer than the tiny room we had in Chiang Mai. It's way to nice for the likes of us but we're willing to be corrupted. The odd similarity is that, like our place in Chiang Mai, we are very nearly the only people here. It's like we're ghosts in a vacant house. We're the only people on our floor so we've been sleeping with the front door open for the breeze.

Hobbit monk blue door into rock inner sanctum

It's a bit creepy but a nice draft. Our isolation here is compounded by the fact that not one member of the skeleton crew that runs the place speaks a word of English. That just seems like a bad idea to me but that's the way it is. Anyway, we met the owner of the apartment next door this afternoon. He is preparing the place for a family coming this weekend.

Me, Swami and Giant Golden Tortoise

Bummer. But it's late. More on Hua Hin later. I've got to get to sleep.

A five-year-old's Christmas list

Christmas is coming so, of course, we asked the parents for gift lists for the grandkids. This is one of the ones we got back in reply:

"I opened this up to Miss Thea:

My own chapstick.
My own pack of gum that's my own, because I think I'm old enough now.
And that's it.

Are you sure? You don't want anything else?

Well, maybe some new tights because I don't have very many that fit me.
And popsicle sticks without popsicles.

For crafts?

Yes, for crafts.
And I really really really really really want a picture frame.

What for?

I just really need one.
Also, batteries for my camera
Art supplies, cause I just love to do art.
A necklace that is red with snowflake beads
Red socks with snowflakes
A pillow with polka-dots and stripes
Shoes with red and green flowers and blue snowflakes
A blue blanket with snowflakes
... Oh, and did I pronounce that I really want a blanket? Not just on the idea list, but I really want it for Christmas?

Okay.

Did I pronounce the necklace already?

Yes.

Okay then, that's it.  G'night."