Movimiento
Si tú eres la yegua de ámbar
yo soy el camino de sangre
Si tú eres la primer nevada
yo soy el que enciende el brasero del alba
Si tú eres la torre de la noche
yo soy el clavo ardiendo en tu frente
Si tú eres la marea matutina
yo soy el grito del primer pájaro
Si tú eres la cesta de naranjas
yo soy el cuchillo de sol
Si tú eres el altar de piedra
yo soy la mano sacrílega
Si tú eres la tierra acostada
yo soy la caña verde
Si tú eres el salto del viento
yo soy el fuego enterrado
Si tú eres la boca del agua
yo soy la boca del musgo
Si tú eres el bosque de las nubes
yo soy el hacha que las parte
Si tú eres la ciudad profanada
yo soy la lluvia de consagración
Si tú eres la montaña amarilla
yo soy los brazos rojos del liquen
Si tú eres el sol que se levanta
yo soy el camino de sangre
Octavio Paz
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Movimiento
Monday, July 28, 2008
Nature
Nature does not capriciously scatter her secrets as golden gifts to lazy pets and luxurious darlings, but imposes tasks when she presents opportunitities, and uplifts him whom she would inform. The apple that she drops at the feet of Newton is but a coy invitation to follow her to the stars.
E. P. Whipple
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
It's Peko, not Pico
Peko is settling in well.
One of the first things I did was internet search the name "Pico", being unfamiliar with the name. I had three possibles
-a numerical term for 10 to the -12, a very small number, (thanks to the boy who lived in the tree for the clarification) not necessarily first pick for a dog name;
something to do with Unix operating systems;
A mexican general in charge of California before it attained statehood.
Hmmm. I figured his former owners must have been PhD's in Math, computers, or History to come up with any of those, interesting.
Then an old friend of the family stopped by today to see the new dog. I was worried that Peko would rage at him as he walked into Pico's new home-WHO IS THIS?!?!
I told Peko we had company and stepped ahead of him as P walked in. Imagine my suprise when Peko went into gleeful submissive bowl full of jello-full wiggle mode, and even jumped up a bit (which he hasn't done with us, ever) he was so happy and excited. Hmmm. This dog obviously LOVES men.
Turned in by a woman stating the son had allergies.
Well, that still may be true, however visions of a separation and the wife unable or unwilling to care for the dogs filled my mind.
Back to internet search, playing with the spelling. I found it!!! He was named after Domato Peko, a defensive (american) football player drafted in 2006 (the year of Peko's birth) by the Cincinatti Bengals. Bengals are tigers-Peko is brindle, orange and black tiger stripes.
figures a woman wouldn't know how to spell the name of a football player, LOL.
I found a nice story about Domato Peko in Wikipedia:
On April 18th, 2007, Peko pulled an elderly man out of his Blazer that had flipped onto its roof at an intersection in Florence, KY. Peko saw him get hit in the side and flip. The man, Dean Gregg, 74, didn’t know who the young man helping him was. Gregg is from Detroit and moved to Cannon, KY., about two years ago, and was hit looking for the horse track.[citation needed]
Peko asked Gregg if he needed help and he replied "Yeah, open the door and get me out.” After Peko hauled him out he continued on his way to church driving from his home in Independence, KY. “I was running late. About 10 minutes. I think that was a sign I was supposed to help,” he said.
I liked the other information Wikipedia had for "Peko":
Peko (Finnish spelling Pekka, Pellon Pekka) is an ancient Estonian and Finnish god of crops, especially barley and brewing. In the area of Setumaa, between Estonia and Russia, inhabited by the seto-speaking Setos, the cult of Peko was alive until the 20th century. Today, the Seto people (an ethnic group of Estonians in the south-east of the country) also revere Peko as their national hero and king, the name and figure are widely used as a national symbol.
Before Pentecost festivities, before the dawn broke, young Seto men held a ritual fight until the first drop of blood was shed. The bleeding person became the host of the next year's feast. Black candles were lit to revere wooden idols of Peko. The people chanted "Peko, Peko, come to drink the beer" and some older man called the priests of Peko made sacrifices.
So, named for a defensive tackle and/or the god of beer...welcome, Peko! :)
The wind had seized the tree and ha, and ha,
It held the shivering, the shaken limbs,
Then bathed its body in the leaping lake.
Wallace Stevens
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Alfred Tennyson
State Department investigating Iraqi oil contracts
State Department investigating Iraqi oil contracts
By CHRISTINE SIMMONS, Associated Press
The State Department's inspector general is investigating Iraqi oil contracts after four Democratic senators complained that department employees may have encouraged lucrative oil deals between Iraq and several Western companies.
Any backstage meddling would have violated Bush administration policy, which has been to discourage such deals until Baghdad passes a law that will fairly divide the nation's oil resources among the various provinces.
A congressional official on Thursday confirmed the probe, speaking on condition of anonymity because it involved an investigation. It comes about a week after four Democratic senators called on Harold Geisel, the State Department's acting inspector general, to investigate the matter...
more...
http://www.politicalbase.com/news/state-department-investigating-iraqi-oil-contracts/107875/
Thursday, July 24, 2008
yay
We adopted a dog today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
His name is Pico. We adopted him from the Kennebec county Humane society.
I will post a pic shortly-have a couple but have not downloaded them yet.
Here's the story:
Last night I was noodling about online and image searched "Mastino"-because I was thinking of one of the dogs that we had looked at on Tuesday, and thought perhaps they had mislabelled him (as an Akita/husky) He didn't look like any of the photos, but they brought back a lot of fond memories of my bullmastiffs!!!
Then I had an urge to check Craigslist, and the most recent entrywas for a Mastiff!!!! Heart pounding, it took three email accounts to get a reply through, an hour after initial posting. Then I got offline to free up the phone line (gotta love dialup) and tried to stay busy hoping for a return call. Ha! No call.
During the night I had a dream (of course I have many, but this one stuck) that Louise was alive again. Not like before she was dead-in the dream I was petting her, thinking she was here again, although she had died.
I awoke before the rest of the house, and was sitting downstairs waiting for my morning cuppa, and recalled the dream, and sat on the couch bawling, missing the dog, STILL. (not like me-damn hormones)
The Augusta shelter opened at ten-we rushed through morning chores and the Willow was in the car before I had even changed...LOL
The staff was busy (being first thing), and we were directed to sign the guest book and take a look. Of course I started checking out the ones I had pre-selected, but could only locate two of four. Number six (a maybe) was a senior pitbull, a red fawn, that looked like our Cherokee, sans black mask. He was pathetic. Beautiful dog, nine years old,starting to get cataracts, skins tags, and a ping pong sized growth on his back hock. He whined nose to the fence while we sympathized, and the Firebird insisted we get him. (he broke my heart, too)( I will add that anyone coming in looking for a dog while we were waiting, I said quietly, "get Ollie" so hopefully he will find a home soon!)
The Willow was interested in a young black/lab chow cross, Frankie, so we waited for the dog lady, Melinda. Melinda knew her stuff. We had some minutes of discussion of various dogs while she sized us up, and finally suggested she had a young pit bull/lab cross in the back dog room that might be a good fit, would we like her to bring him out? We said, "yes," and waited. We never did see the back dog room, but we were told it was rough out there.
I was expecting a black coated dog, and was quite suprised when she brought out a mediuim-sized brindle with a white splash on his chest. He is medium sized, quite lean, with a more of a shepard cast to his face-half flopped baby ears and a longer nose. Although that could be the pit; I am not too familiar with the breed.
He is a doll. Loves to fetch a tennis ball, quite happy with all three of us, already neutered. He was a give up due to allergies, along with another dog we didn't see. We were told the other dog was more aggressive, and although the shelter had been told they were fine together, he wouldn't let Pico, as is his name, near the dog food, so they separated them.
We all agreed!!!! he was the dog for us, and we waited for Melinda to draw blood and do a fecal, which were fine, and microchip him, and then we ran some other errands around town as we were told it would be another hour or so. They were probably running my driver's license number, as that is the only info I gave them on the adoption application-no vet or personal references were requested.
He was great in the car on the way home-alternating laps on which to rest his head, and didn't vomit. Heheh. That can be traumatic.
Once home, the lab mix came out in full force. Labs are bird retrievers, and he COULD NOT BELIEVE!!!!!! there was a chicken pen, and roosters, AND a goose!!!! Nevermind all the feathers lying about!!! Lucy the goosey was at first afraid, and then as they approached each other, Lucy flapped his great wings, and that scared Pico!!!! So we will have to watch him around the poultry!!!(Lucy goes after the whole herd of goats, so I guess he will "learn" the dog!)
Pico couldn't care less about the goats...the goats were freaked and curious (as goats are), but Pico was not interested.
Then we went in, me with the leash, preparing myself for Pico to launch himself at our poor pitiful helpless kitties. We barely got in the door, and the two senior cats went into attack mode, hissing, spitting, clawing, fur flying...fighting each other...crazy!!!!! It went down so fast, I quickly wedged myself infront of poor Pico who was cowering behind the door, while my ear little Rubes planted herself on the high ground, growling and caterwalling.
Well, we had good intentions on training the poor pup properly, but I got him into the living room on one of the couches and planted myself next to him, one cat near the ceiling, one in the window...and showed the cats that he was fine, our new member....LOL.
Several hours later, Pico is sacked out on the couch with the kids and the cats are slowly sneaking in for a closer look-the more dominant one planting himself in the middle of the room, acting nonchalant...
In the middle of this post I slipped downstairs to check and sat stroking the new pup(he is supposed to be two years, but seems younger-however I have not been around a young dog for a few years, so I might be mistaken. I think he is more like a year.)and I was stunned...he is marked EXACTLY like our Louise. The only dog we had brought out today, a perfect fit(we hope....!!!!)...reminds me of my dream last night....
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
animal shelter
Can't sleep; tossing and turning, I have to tell their stories.
Two months of mourning the passing of Sweet Louise, and many night of visits online to view available pets at every humane society in the state, and I decided that we would start today in Waterville.
I had three dogs in mind for viewing. When I finally got unlost in Waterville ( I am great at getting lost in Waterville) , found the shelter, and parked the car, a dog walker was walking a large brown dog with a big fluffy curled tail. We got out of the car and learned the dogs name was Cody, one of the dogs whose photos were not online, so I had not considered him as an option.
The saplings loved him, so we went in and introduced ourselves as seeking a dog, and requested to see Cody. We were directed to a large community room, and brought in three metal folding chairs, as the shelter employee requested that we be seated when she brought the dog in.
Cody was brought in, and greeted us nicely on his leash, and the employees proudly showed us how he could "sit" and "down" (baited with a treat, but done nonetheless). Then they released him, and he charged around the room, approached the AC station that was covered with a large drape, and promptly lifted his leg and urinated all over it. Uh-OH.
We were told Cody had been turned in up in Millinocket as a stray. No shelter there-the local vet holds them for a week, and then they get euthanized. An employee there arranged for him to go to the Waterville shelter instead. Cody was ok for cats-he rode down with one in the car and cared less.
He was fine on the leash-I was stunned when I took him, as our Gandalf had been a very large dog-this guy must have been 30inches at the topline. And if he was ever going to grow into his enormous head, he was going to gain another inch or two.
He did earn a couple other bad marks against him in our visit-he bumped both myself and the Firebird on the back of the hand with his teeth, and once turned abruptly to the shelter employee when she reached for his collar-no snarl or growl, but iffy given our family environment.
We also learned that he had been adopted out and come right back. The first night he had been allowed to sleep on the bed, and in the night "someone living in the house" had entered the bedroom, and he had growled, so they brought him back.
I had that happen to me with my first bullmastiff , and had thought about returning her, but reasoned out the circumstances and made sure she knew who lived in the house and was not to be growling at them. She was fine. So, Cody's return for those reasons did not particularly alarm me, but the almost neurotic marking of territory both inside and out led me to hesitiate and talk the saplings into looking at another dog.
I had already determined that I was not interested in a hound or a beagle, of which there were many. Both are working hunting dogs-they are bred to run with their noses down and their singing barks carry for miles. Not fair to expect a dog like that to be a stay-at-home pet.
However, under the pressure of the saplings urging me to take Cody home, I announced we would next see "Dacey" who had not been in her Kennel when we made our initial walk through. I recalled her photo but forgot she was a hound.
The shelter employee warned me that she was dirty and very needy. I said, send her in. The first thing she did when released was launch herself at me, seated, with paws on my shoulders, face inches from mine,cross-eyed, whining pathetically. I gave her bigs hugs and we all patted her, and she dropped down and ran off exploring in true hound fashion, nose to the floor. She was also unspayed and in heat, so she loved sniffing that wet AV curtain.
I approached her and reached down and she flinched visibly, and I said outloud, 'This dog has been abused"
I knew right away she wasn't a good fit for us, but the shelter employee escaped and left us alone with the dog for at least twenty minutes. She was a bad dog! Not bad like rotten, but bad dog as in what you say when they are misbehaving.
She knocked over the trash barrel, and stood on her hind feet with paws on the counter, and did not ever have an inkling of the word no. I didn't try and teach her either-the poor things have so little people contact I didn't want to start reprimanding her. She wasn't interested in the ball, but the Willow got her interested in the knotted rope.
Once Lacey ran over to the door and jumped up and nearly turned the large handle to open the door! I really thought she might have been quite clever once I saw that, but we sent her back and I requested one I had come to see, "Hunter."
Hunter was quite scary in his cage-jumping and barking agressively, but I wanted to see him.
He was not quite as large as Cody, but still a big dog. He was called an Akita mix, but he was tall and lanky. A very pretty light fawn brindle, with a white strip on his nose, and one blue eye. It was funny looking on the web site-he had one red glaring eye and one green glaring eye, from the reflection of the flash. The employee confided that she blacked out the red on the photo for the next webpage.
He was very energized, and the shelter employee held his wriggling self a few minutes before letting him greet us. Although he could easily have reached my face standing, he opted to launch himself up against the leash with feet up..something that scared the saplings. I could see he had some good potential-he was very focused on us, very good natured but unruly to put it mildly.
Willow stepped right up and started chucking a squeaky ball for him. He was one that liked to run with the ball and not give it back. (that game is called "chase me" not "fetch")
I let the saplings warm up to him and read his paperwork He was 9 months old and had been adopted as a puppy from the same shelter. "Not enough time" was the reason for give up. I read on. He had been outside on a run 8-10 hours a day, dug holes (not suprising tied all day), and got into the trash at night if not picked up. (what self respecting puppy doesn't?) He was ok with cats, had been with kids.
I asked if we could take him outside, and the Firebird immediately wanted the leash, so I turned it over, and they headed into the small field, picked up speed, and the dog got away from him. Hunter took off in big bounding leaps, first one way, then the other, us not chasing, just calling, and after three fast circles came right back. Then he laid very quietly under the bench while I tried to convince the Firebird he was really a good dog. Nope, the Firebird didn't like him, and I had announced that we all three had to agree on a dog, so Hunter went back while we talked privately to no avail.
Afterwards I realized that the jumping lunging behavior had obviously been caused by the poor dog being tied on a run while the kids in his former family played. Hence the jumping and lunging and overexcitement at actually being able to get near a kid now. Add in the fact that the dogs at the shelter spend every minute of every day alone in their tiny cages, unless a volunteer comes to walk them. And they are indoor pens. That poor dog was sooooo happy to launch himself around in that fresh grass and sunshine with kids....sigh...but I don't fault the Firebird-he felt uncomfortable and perhaps sensed danger to himself or his sister, so Hunter was out.
We went back in again, and I requested Mac. The shelter employee seemed hesistant to get the dog-I had to finally go with her as she seemed to not understand which one I wanted, or else didn't want to deal with the dog, or knew something she wasn't sharing...however, we did get Mac out.
Mac was labelled a hound/collie mix, young, a medium sized dog. The first thing he did when given enough leash was launch his paws onto my seated shoulders and give me great smiling dog licks, and also got the saplings in turn. Being smaller and better natured, this did not bother the kids. We thought he was cute. Although not trained, he did NOT add his urine to the now almost dry curtain. He did give the vent a good sniff, and I jumped up and asked to take him out.
I kept ahold of the leash this time, and yes, he did go about hound fashion, nose down, but just for the glory of a good sniff and was quite happy to wet the telephone pole (instead of every lilac bush, as the first dog) and relieved himself in the tall grass with a happy doggy grin. We liked him. Was he cat friendly?
Nope, he did not pass the cat test. For the cat test, they have a certain cat that just lies limply on the floor. Mac sniff and snffed and nudged and kept picking up the urgency of "please run so I can chase you". The cat was finally rescued, and then he followed the cat with his eyes until out of sight. Hmmm. The employees both shook their heads. He had the makings of a serious cat chaser. That eliminated Mac.
So we left empty handed. I was sad. I had known going in that there were only two dogs that were strong possibilities, but sensed both would have drawbacks. I did like both the dogs I had pre-selected very much, but they weren't quite right.
I have picked out four strong possibles and another two maybes at the Augusta shelter, but they are closed tomorrow, so we will go Thursday or Friday.
Stay tuned for more insomnia.
Monday, July 21, 2008
With my feet firmly set on the Earth
and my arms still outstretched towards the Sun,
I stand
as a bridge
linking Earth
and the Sun,
by which
Earthward
the Sun descends,
by which
Sunward
the Earth ascends...
Eduardas Miezelaitis
translated by Lionginas Pazusis
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Dead fry
The "Warriors of the Rainbow" would show the peoples that this "Ancient Being" (the Great Spirit), is full of love and understanding, and teach them how to make the "Earth or Elohi" beautiful again. These Warriors would give the people principles or rules to follow to make their path light with the world. These principles would be those of the Ancient Tribes. The Warriors of the Rainbow would teach the people of the ancient practices of Unity, Love and Understanding. They would teach of Harmony among people in all four corners of the Earth.
Like the Ancient Tribes, they would teach the peoples how to pray to the Great Spirit with love that flows like the beautiful mountain stream, and flows along the path to the ocean of life. Once again, they would be able to feel joy in solitude and in councils. They would be free of petty jealousies and love all mankind as their brothers, regardless of color, race or religion. They would feel happiness enter their hearts, and become as one with the entire human race. Their hearts would be pure and radiate warmth, understanding and respect for all mankind, Nature and the Great Spirit.
They would once again fill their minds, hearts, souls, and deeds with the purest of thoughts. They would seek the beauty of the Master of Life - the Great Spirit! They would find strength and beauty in prayer and the solitude of life.
Their children would once again be able to run free and enjoy the treasures of Nature and Mother Earth. Free from the fears of toxins and destruction, wrought by the Yo-ne-gi and his practices of greed. The rivers would again run clear, the forests be abundant and beautiful, the animals and birds would be replenished. The powers of the plants and animals would again be respected and conservation of all that is beautiful would become a way of life.
The poor, sick and needy would be cared for by their brothers and sisters of the Earth. These practices would again become a part of their daily lives.
The leaders of the people would be chosen in the old way - not by their political party, or who could speak the loudest, boast the most, or by name calling or mud slinging, but by those whose actions spoke the loudest. Those who demonstrated their love, wisdom and courage and those who showed that they could and did work for the good of all, would be chosen as the leaders or Chiefs. They would be chosen by their "quality" and not the amount of money they had obtained. Like the thoughtful and devoted "Ancient Chiefs", they would understand the people with love, and see that their young were educated with the love and wisdom of their surroundings. They would show them that miracles can be accomplished to heal this world of its ills, and restore it to health and beauty.
The tasks of these "Warriors of the Rainbow" are many and great. There will be terrifying mountains of ignorance to conquer and they shall find prejudice and hatred. They must be dedicated, unwavering in their strength, and strong of heart. They will find willing hearts and minds that will follow them on this road of returning "Mother Earth" to beauty and plenty - once more.
The day will come, it is not far away.
The day that we shall see how we owe our very existence to the people of all tribes that have maintained their culture and heritage. Those that have kept the rituals, stories, legends and myths alive. It will be with this knowledge, the knowledge that they have preserved, that we shall once again return to "harmony" with Nature, Mother Earth and mankind. It will be with this knowledge that we shall find our "Key to our Survival".
This is the story of the "Warriors of the Rainbow".
http://www.birdclan.org/rainbow.htm
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Rainbow in the front yard
Friday, July 18, 2008
Happy Full Moon-itis
All week I have been watching the moon grow. Wednesday I intended to go out at dusk and photo the moon just rising over the pond, but loud voices revealed the presence of other pond /moon enjoyers and deterred me.
Last night I had a case of full moon itis. I was wound up and tired, still trying to catch up on my R&R, so I turned in around midnight. I was trying to get comfy, and all of a sudden a loud squawk, and the two white roosters, each of whom claims a high perch in trees on opposite corners of the house (one right outside my window, thanks very much) started crowing. Yes, at midnight.
The moon was full and high in the sky-I don't know if they thought it was high noon, or what?
Finally I sat up and looked out the window, and seeing no pack of coyotes or invading aliens, I rapped sharply on the glass, demanding, "What's going on out there?" IN response the two roosters, being chickens, shut up.
I tried to get comfortable again, and I could hear goat horns crashing and crashing. I have two large wethers that are kept separate, because one of them is mean to the little goats. I was sure I was hearing the sound of large goats beating up small goats, so I dressed and wandered outside to check. Everything was normal-the little goats taking advantage of the midnight sun to play King of the big boulder. Sweet.
That was last night. Today we had to run some errands, including a dump run, or transfer station as it is now. The old dump was a back-up and dump landfill. At the transfer station, everything goes into bins to be hauled away, with separate stations for recycled items.
I have the system down fairly well-first the general trash, then cans, glass, general metal, around to number two plastic, mixed paper, and cardboard. This week I had a bag of stuff from an old woods dump that we cleaned up on the property. Yes, even out in the middle of nowhere, one can find the remains of mankind years ago. In our case, we have excavated several small piles of trash from about 40 years ago-which is now just glass and rusty cans.
I was trying to sort the glass from the cans and debating whether the rusty cans should go into the can barrels or the general metal dumpster (wow, real rocket science going on there...hehe) and was approached by a nicely dressed woman .
"Where should I put the blue glass?" she asked .
I suggested she set it to the side since the barrels are only labeled "green, brown, or white"
Then she had some other things she had questions about-mostly plastic, which I took for her in my now empty sack to go into the general trash, as our station only recycles number two.
She was apparently cleaning out stuff for her folks-ancient liquor bottles and odd plastic bits, a box of ancient reader's digest books.
She drove back over to the general trash area to get rid of the rest of her non recycled plastic, and I took my two , now empty paint cans over to the metal can. By the time I came back, or about 30 seconds from the start of this story, one of the guys that worked there had spotted the blue glass bottle and tucked it under his arm like a college quarterback making his first touch down.
Ok, blue glass goes to the guy. :D
I wondered about the woman afterwards, her folks..if they were still alive, or moved away, and was she cleaning out the summer home?
We moved on to the next stop.
The out of state driver plates have arrived. We went the rest of the way into town with me spouting off plates as they passed.."Massachusetts, Virginia, NorthCarolina...I think that was Texas!"
I made sure I was on my best host-state behavior, pausing several times to wave "visitors from away" into traffic-tricky spots that still rely on common small town courtesy to keep traffic flowing at intersections.
One place at the top of town had received a very expensive makeover including a traffic light-which has turned that spot into a living nightmare. From two or three directions turning drivers still have to rely on common courtesy to get through-but that is now dictated by if the light is green or not. We made it through town alright, but one had to wonder at the reason for the light, since traffic can barely go 10 mph down main street .
We had a chance to go through the expanded grocery store-and the saplings were goggling with awe at the atrium complete with twenty foot tall fake trees in the produce section.
We just needed something for supper-with the heat and travel time unless I take an ice chest, meat purchases are limited to that night's dinner when so far from home. We were in the express lane, and suddenly a woman behind me said, "What beautiful children you have."
I said, "Yes, I am VERY lucky," very sincere; I often think how blessed I am with my children!!!
She was about my age, and looked tired and sad and lost in thought as we walked away. I had to wonder about her story, her children, or the children she didn't have...
and despite all the little crazy annoying things that happened today, my ego wanting to scream..."grrrr...why me?" I found myself thinking about the two women I had spoken with today...the well groomed woman with or without parents, the tired rumpled woman with or without children...either might have been me in an alternate reality... and how did their days go?
Happy Full Moon. ;)
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Pondflowers708
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
A big HI to Tonia! I look forward to reading your blog again and wish you well in your new home!
Another beautiful day here in vacationland-sunny and 80's. We need some rain!
We went swimming twice today. The first time, as we were getting ready to leave, the saplings spotted some small fish in the water. It is not unusual to see a few minnows along the edge of the water. I walked over to see, and we stood there amazed as an enormous school of fry moved into the little cove. There was at least one thousand. They were one inch long and had a green stripe along the spine. I figured there were twenty five in a six inch cube, and the school was at least ten feet long and three feet wide.
They moved in a huge counterclockwise circle, sometimes with swirls back into the middle as the little fish swam one way with their group, and then turned and came back the other way, the whole school slowly advancing to the left.
If something startled them, they would start to split, but then soon merge into their large group again.
We were mesmerized, and watched them until they moved out of sight.
They certainly acted like stocked fry, raised in captivityand released in large groups, since I can't imagine so many wild fry teeming up into one large school. I don't think one fish would hatch that many fry.
I also spotted the local Kingfisher fly across the pond twice. They dive and catch small fish so I guess he was having a good day! I didn't see him dive either time, though.
After lunch we made a hay run. We have to go up into the loft and drop it down, and the last visit we spotted a swing up in the loft, but there were hay bales in the way. Today the bales had been moved, and we could not resist each taking a couple swings facing out the huge gable window-a view that stretches forever-
It was nice and cool in the hay loft despite the heat of the day, as both east and west doors were open, and being high on the hill, the wind was sweeping the heat away.
Then I found a second swing, a round piece of wood with a single rope-a monkey swing.
The ropes were very stout natural fiber, but not coarse. They creaked and moaned as they stretched with the weight, and I was reminded of how the hemp ropes must have creaked on the old sailing vessels, in the dark on the open ocean.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved,
loved for ourselves,
or rather loved in spite of ourselves."
Victor Hugo
Sunday, July 13, 2008
windy green day
Saturday, July 12, 2008
caterpillar
I thought I saw a hookah in there somewhere...(Lewis Carroll)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Another beautiful summer day
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
catch up
So I haven't felt very chatty lately. I think the meds I am on take away my urge to write. After all, one is a muscle relaxer, and the brain is a muscle...that is if the med can cross the brain barrier. The brain has a cool defense mechanism that keeps things out.
I have been having excruciating muscle spasms in the left piriformis muscle, which runs from the lumbar/sacral region to the head of the femur. Walking seems to aggravate it. Yesterday I had to stop twice walking off the beach, once to sit and the last to lie down once we reached the car. Very embarassing!!! I was hoping someone wouldn't walk up thinking I was croaking or something!!!! LOL.
I did some online research last night, and found a suggestion of lying on a tennis ball to deep massage the buttock. This led to searching the overgrown lawn by flashlight to no avail, but a small rubber ball was put to use with some effect.
The toughest part is taking it easy to allow the area to heal.
The garden is screaming for attention, but I have only been able to do the minimum as crouching and bending also aggravates the muscle spasms.
The nearest I can figure, the whole thing started with an injury;either when Linnea butted my knee so hard I thought she broke it, or one of the many tumbles I took on the ice and snow this winter.
I have a Doc appointment tomorrow-he is not going to be pleased as I cancelled the last physical therapy appointment for various reasons-hopefully I will be back to my former active self before summer flies by! :)
Monday, July 7, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Balloon LawnChair pilot makes Idaho
That's right, someone actually rode a lawn chair tied to 150 5 foot party balloons from Oregon to Idaho. Here's the website:
www.couchballoons.com