Food For Thought......

"All of us living beings belong together, in as much as we are all in reality sides or aspects of one single being, which may perhaps in western terminology be called God while in the Upanishads its name is Brahman. For we are all, in every particle of our being, precipitations of consciousness; as are, likewise, the animals and plants, metals cleaving to a magnet and waters tiding to the moon. . . we are to recognize in this whole universe a reflection magnified of our own most inward nature; so that we are indeed its ears, its eyes, its thinking, and its speech--or, in theological terms, God's ears, God's eyes, God's thinking, and God's Word; and, by the same token, participants here and now in an act of creation that is continuous........." ~Erwin Schrodinger

Rules For Pigeons

Dear pigeons,
if you ever find yourself mortally wounded make sure to act as pathetic as possible because humans are stupid and will take you home. They’ll feed you, make you popcorn, and they’ll even clean up your poop.
Rule #1 - poop a lot!
Rule #2 - be as ornery as possible. It’s important to show hostility toward your caregivers because, like I said before, they’re stupid and inferior. If you fail to show proper disdain for them their egos might inflate and they’ll decide that pigeons make poor roommates. They might get it into their heads that you’ve recovered and would like to return to the wild. If they put you back outside immediately hurl yourself against the human’s house windows (relentlessly) until they open one, and then fly back in. Once you’re in, it is important to peck the idiot humans so that they in no way mistake your love of their home and servitude, for personal attachment.
Rule #3 -every time they bring you fresh clear water- poop in it. It will drive them nuts! They’ll even pretend to punish you by waiting an hour or two before bringing you new water. It’s hilarious.
Rule #4- if your humans are especially stupid they might just rescue another pigeon. In this case you should F*** a lot!!!! (and be very noisy about it). Then sit back and watch while the idiots scramble to house your rapidly multiplying children in their barn. Before you know it the kids will be throwing themselves against the windows too. What a riot.

PMS.

Now I break up in pieces

that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
~Sylvia Plath

Our Living Room Swamp Thing.......

We live in a small mountain community that is mostly populated with retirees and vacation homes. There are a limited amount of properties available here so buying a house requires either great patience or lots of compromise. With our last house we opted for compromise. Now, because of an old friend, we have a cabin that fits our needs perfectly. But the other house wasn’t quite so great. The Muse decided that it might liven the place up and take the edge off of the long winters if we created an indoor pond in the living room. You know, a little greenery, the soft trickle of a waterfall, large soothing goldfish........ You get the picture. Goth was about 5 at the time and loved the idea. It seemed a little goofy but we’ve never been conventional so we did it. At that time Goth and the Muse would spend summer afternoons at a nearby swamp “frogging” (strictly catch and release) and would periodically bring a baggie of wild fairy moss home for the goldfish and dump it in the water. One night after we’d had the pond for a couple of years I spotted something. It was only a flash but my skin just crawled. I don’t know if it was the distortion of the water, or primal fear, but I’d have sworn that what I saw was 2 feet of dark, slithery, viper. It was terrible. It definitely did not belong in my living room! Unfortunately an hour of flashing a light around the surface of the water trying to locate the bugger was unsuccessful and we had out of town relatives coming the next morning. At that point I was the only one who’d seen it, so rather than having my sanity called into question I managed to pull myself together and ignore the potentially venomous, child eating monster for that week. I don’t know if the Muse thought that after entertaining his family all week he’d better humor me or what, but as soon as we’d booted our guests out the door he set to work helping me remove every boulder, pebble, and slab in that pond. There, among some insanely traumatized fish, we found our intruder. While he wasn’t quite as large in the light of day as he was in my imagination, he was still pretty darn big............ and icky. I imagine he’d been quite happy living with us, watching us, anticipating each night when we’d throw him some fish food. In fact, by the looks of him he’d probably been there for years. I don’t know. But what I do know is that he went home that day. So if you’re ever out at the swamp on the state land and see an enormous blood sucking leech, tell him I said Hi and I hope he’s happy in the wild because under no circumstances will we be inviting him home again.

Happy Birthday!!!!!!

Yeti Patrol

The second story of our cabin has a beautiful glass door facing west that is just waiting for the day that we actually manage to finish it with a balcony. It will be the perfect spot for late nights in the summer. Right now it's a door to nowhere but to Mattie it's a look out tower. She diligently spends her days scanning the forest and enthusiastically barking alerts of potential danger. Occasionally we come to her side to take a look and while our responding to her makes Mattie feel like a very useful part of the pack, there is never anything out there. We were beginning to think that we were surrounded by a rare population of dog loving Yeti who only appear when we aren't looking. That would have been something to blog about! Unfortunately this morning we saw Mattie's nemesis in broad daylight and it was no Yeti. It wasn't even another dog. This morning's bout of hysterical barking and lunging was brought on by a magpie. Yep, a medium sized scavenger bird. This from the same dog who slept through a bear ripping down the fence and coming inside our house! I'm really beginning to question her judgment..........

The Animal Family by Randall Jarrell

Here's an excerpt:
The days went by for him,all different and all the same. The boy was happyand yet he didn't know that he was happy, exactly:he couldn't remember having been unhappy. If one day as he played at the edge of the forest

some talking bird had flown down and asked him:
"Do you like your life?"
he would not have known what to say,

but would have asked the bird:"Can you not like it?"

Much Ado About Nothing

Have you ever had a moment when you asked your beloved offspring to perform some mundane task and your request was met with exaggerated sighs and eye rolling? "Why in the world is it too much to ask of a young, healthy, able bodied family member to pitch in" my parental self responds indignantly. But to be honest my real self can totally relate. I hate to admit it but there are chores that I feel irrationally burdened by. Laundry is one of them. The actual time and energy of throwing a few clothes in the washer isn’t exactly exhaustive, yet when I wake up on laundry day a little part of me slumps over as if I were expected to single handedly build The Great Wall of China. I guess my childhood fantasies of adult life overlooked the fact that there would be dirty underwear .................

How to Know When You've Had Enough Snow.....

Every year the Muse gets to the point when he's had it. He's tired of shoveling and snow blowing. He just wants to see grass. We live in the mountains so that probably isn't going to happen for at least another month. Still, I have to agree with him that when the mound behind the house is almost up to the roof, it's time for a warm spell.

Wilderness Association Art Auction

Our local Wilderness Association is planning Earth Day festivities including a miniature art auction fund raiser. I don't like the pressure of trying to pull something out of my hat at the last minute so I decided to go ahead and work on my contribution yesterday. It's made from 100% recycled materials/found objects (except for the adhesive). So happy (really early) Earth Day everyone!

The First Day of Spring!!!!!

Can you believe it's the first day of spring??? How great is that?! It's not like we've got crocuses fighting their way through our three feet of ice and snow, but at least it's a sign. While the rest of you are watching your daffodils bloom we're celebrating with hope that we'll see the ground again soon. I'm not complaining. I love it here. And I promise you that by May 1st we'll have crocuses too!

The Gods Showing Off.....

Today has been one of those days when things just aren't falling into place like they should. Anyways, I wanted to post but haven't had a coherent thought all day (and still haven't put this morning's laundry in the dryer yet!). So it's 4:30 and I'm just going to let go of the idea of posting something current and instead will share this big boy with you. He stopped by last December and when I looked up and saw him right outside the sliding glass doors my heart raced! Elk are so much bigger up close than you can imagine. I ran upstairs, grabbed my camera, and then behaved completely without dignity; stalking him like he was Hugh Laurie. Next time I'm going try to be cool, but I grew up in a midwestern suburb and stuff like this just takes my breath away!

Gifts

Yesterday the Muse and I were walking across the glacier that is our yard clinging to each other for dear life, when I had an epiphany. I finally figured out what to get him for his birthday.......ice cleats! I know it’s a stupid idea, but after 20 years together gift giving hasn't gotten any easier. It’s actually harder. To make matters worse, there are very few things in this world that I suck at more than buying presents (except maybe singing but believe me, we don’t want to go there). Once when we were first together I was in angst over what to give my father for his birthday and the Muse suggested a tank of fish. Because our relationship was still new, I did it. I gave my dad (whose only interest in fish involves catching and eating them) fish. Then, years later (having forgotten the fish suggestion) I told the Muse that it was his turn to buy my mom a Mother’s Day gift. Guess what “we” gave her? An American flag and rest assured that I don't ask him for help anymore. It's not his fault. This has been a life long problem for me. He had nothing to do with it the year I was 19 and gave my favorite cousin tarot cards for her birthday (a gift that I swear is solely responsible for her life’s conversion into a Bush loving republican with a career in law) or the year I thought he'd love a box of really good oranges. Unfortunately the company shipped them without notifying me and a week later he came traipsing into the living room scornfully bemoaning the idiot who sent us fruit for Christmas. You see I have this dilemma of wanting to transcend just buying useless “stuff” and finding that unique treasure that will actually bring a moment of pleasure, practicality, or amusement to the recipient. Every year we ask each other “What do you want for your birthday?” Which is followed by the purchasing and wrapping of things that really just belong on a weekly shopping list. This past Christmas we skipped the whole gift thing altogether and gave to charity. Still, it’s his birthday and I want something more....... I want to give him something more. Something that he didn’t pick out for himself. I don’t need to rock his world, but I’d like to at least come up with something that isn’t dorky. And I’ve got nothing here, absolutely nothing! Does anyone know if the Emporer's Club has gift certificates??????

Star Thrower

This is Star Thrower. If you've read Sunday's post below you'll know what he's been up to, and you'll also know why he won't be coming in the house any time soon. (Not to worry, he has a barn and his own furniture and multiple quilts.) We picked him up on the side of the road almost 18 years ago. He was 5 weeks old at the time and about the size of a grapefruit. We'd been keeping an eye out for his mother whenever we'd drive to town. She seemed to be feral and we had hopes of rescuing her until one day when we saw her carrying kittens that we hadn't known existed. Not long after that, we found she'd been run over. It took us a while but we ended up finding her 3 little ones camped out not far from her corpse. We named the first Eiseley (after Loren Eiseley, the writer and naturalist) and he lived to be 15. The second was given to a relative and died of cancer at the age of 12. Star Thrower was the third. He was named after Eiseley's short story The Star Thrower. He's very sweet and has never once complained about having to endure all of his days with such a wretched moniker. Eiseley's short story is also pretty great. It's one of choosing hope and love over weary cynicism. There are lots of altered versions of it floating around cyberspace but the original has a beauty, depth, and complexity that the others often trivialize. Here's a snippet:

....through war and famine and death, a sparse mercy had persisted,
like a mutation whose time had not yet come. I had seen the star thrower cross that rift and, in so doing, he had reasserted the human right
to define his own frontier.

~Loren Eiseley, from The Unexpected Universe, 1969

Who Needs Furniture Anyway?

I don't want to force the unspeakable details of yesterday's midday nightmare upon you so let's just say that you should never bring your happily senile, 17 year old, incontinent cat into the house for short supervised visits (not even out of great love and compassion!!!!). And, if you do, do not turn around, do not get distracted, and under no circumstance should you ever look away....... Not even for one minute!! I'm serious. This is an especially bad practice on the day that you're washing your slipcovers because unbeknowst to you, your little friend might just have a wicked case of dysentery and you will not believe how quickly that soaks in.

Caucusing

This morning was so beautiful that everyone was up and about early.
Deer are enthusiastic supporters of gun control and the environment

so they tend toward being Democrats. And, as you know, this year's Democratic primary season has been like no other in recent memory. The white tails are so excited that they showed up before breakfast this morning demanding to caucus a day early.

Personally, I hate (human) caucuses.

I just want to go in, slap down my vote, and leave.

I mean, I don't feel like I should have to
patiently withstand being persuaded, badgered,
or bullied by my fellow citizens.
Nor should I have to defend my positions/decisions.
Let my vote be counted and included for what it is;
A single VoTE.

Still, after a long and heated debate this morning's caucus ended in surprising unanimity.
We all agreed that Barack and Hillary should idealistically set ego aside, join hands, and form a joint ticket working together to lead and heal our nation. They're a perfect team. What Hillary lacks in likability and eloquence Barack provides in abundance. What he lacks in experience and strength she provides. By coming together we all win. Now back to reality....... Keep your toes and hooves crossed, this could get ugly.
How sad would that be?

Is It Spring Yet?

It's 29, windy, and snowing outside. Still, it is March and we've managed to pry the wading pool away from the ground before dislodging the 36" x 7" glacier that has occupied it for the last 3 months. Add to that a thawed hose, a little water, and a goose, and you can see for yourself what you get- pure unadulterated bliss. You've gotta love her. I mean, I had to zip up and put my gloves on just to take the picture while she reveled with delight at being able to douse herself in ice cold water.

The Beauty of Trivial Things

The last 48 hours have been a little intense. It’s amazing how quickly you can feel solid ground giving way beneath you. I know that all sounds melodramatic and maybe it is. But when it’s you, it’s very real, and all the reassuring rational thoughts in the world can’t return your footing prematurely. I’m still wondering if I’m not just grasping at positive straws because that’s what I want to believe. But opening your mind to remote possibilities is a terrible thing. So I’m going to go with the belief that a zero in a million chance means just that. There have been many times in my life when I questioned the seriousness and productivity of my days. Not today. Right now I can think of nothing more beautiful than to have peace of mind enough to be trivial. What a Blessing!

Get Me the Hell Out of Here!

My sister, who lives 1200 miles east of me, emailed me the other day that she hadn’t been out of the house in over 2 days and it was making her crazy. She quipped that she didn’t know how I did it. She said that because she knows that I’m never happier than when I home. It’s my own little sanctuary, a place of peace that I never tire of. Being out and about on the other hand, I’m not so fond of. I go to town more than I’d like too, but I could really skip it all together. It’s not that their's anything wrong with town. It’s about as nice a little community as you’re going to find in these parts. It’s just me. I’m built that way. I always have been. I mean look at that picture. My sister (wearing the red plaid coat) is happy as a lark sitting on the lap of some strange man that even a four year old had to know wasn’t Santa. Not me, I’m (the scraggly blond one) struggling to high tail it out of there. I felt the same way in kindergarten, and I still feel that way now. I can’t stand going to the dentist and having to endure some chatty stranger picking away at my teeth. I make myself go, because I do have some standards of decency and hygiene. But don’t even ask about the hair dresser. That I’d just rather do myself. I mean, I can live with a bad hair day, but make me smile and chat inanely for half an hour and I want to curl up into a ball and die. Okay, I know you’re thinking that I’m nuts. And maybe I am. But, as far as I can tell, we all are. And you know what? I’m happy, really, really happy.

Is that edible?

This is Hanging Horn. He lives in my pocket. What I'm trying to do is take a picture of the gorgeous morning light shining through the aspens. What he's trying to do is see if he can eat the camera.

Late last summer he was involved in some unknown, but very violent accident. It ripped his left horn and a good chunk of his scalp away from his head leaving his bloody skull exposed.

When he came to us, we gave him his last rites, a little corn, and told him to go toward the light. But he ignored that advice and decided to keep coming back for more food instead. After he recovered, Larry named him Hanging Horn because his antler and scalp hung from his head, literally blinding his left eye.

He is so much better since he's shed his antlers which is allowing his skull to heal. Now he looks just like any other of the million and one white tail deer that populate our lives. But you can still tell its him by the bump on his head and the fact that he is permanently attached to my hip.

Wallpaper.......

The muse has been working full time in his studio since before we had internet, digital cameras, and the wonders of Photoshop (over 20 years!!!). Which means that we have boxes and boxes and boxes of those ancient relics, the slide. And, because he never viewed art as a commodity, but rather one of process and evolutionary consciousness, we also have lots of paintings. I’m sure you don’t fully grasp my meaning, so let me reiterate. We have LOTS of paintings. OODLES of paintings. An entire storage space filled with paintings! So many paintings that when we looked at our bedroom wall last year and pondered what color we wanted to paint it, we decided instead to just paper it- in paintings. Now don’t get me wrong. This is not a reflection on the quality of his work. I mean I honestly believe that some of his pieces are museum quality. But come on, there isn’t a museum big enough to hold them all. So, I wallpapered. Which brings us to today (and tomorrow and the next day, ad infitinum). He’s decided it’s time to start exhibiting again, and possibly selling. Thus allowing him to go into the studio without the little voice in the back of his head taunting “The storage space is almost full.....so what then? What are you going to do....... rent another one???” This is where I come in. Rather than scan all of those stupid slides (a painstakingly slow process) I’m taking pictures. Lots of them. Lots, and lots, and lots of them...........and, if he’s lucky, I won’t find any more walls to cover.

Confrontation

I'm not a big fan of confrontation. In fact, I'm pretty much pathologically opposed to it. And despite that not too insightful revelation about myself, you can still find a fair amount of conflict around me. The woods that surround our cabin are just frantic this time of year. Once nurturing white tail deer will dole out a wicked hoof thrashing to their young (and anyone else who comes between them and a pile of bird seed). And if you were wondering who was going to win the rights to the corn in the above picture, I can assure you it's Kitara. Our geese are the queens of conflict. It's their life's blood and nothing gives them more pleasure than to chase a grown man across the yard swearing. It's taken me years to convince him, but even The Muse now recognizes that gurgling, cooing, and promising your undying love to our feisty avian friends is in everyone's best interest. Now he always pays his respects, and I'm pretty sure that he's even beginning to like them.

Girl With a Bo Staff

Today was Goth's quarterly belt test and she is now a brown belt! She worked really hard and did a great job. So, congratulations Goth!!!! You earned it.

As for me, my accomplishments went totally unnoticed. They should definitely hand out some kind of acknowledgment to middle aged idiots like myself who manage to spend three long hours sitting crossed legged on frosty concrete until their rear ends were numb and their knees throbbing. Oh, but silly me....... even though it was standing room only, no one else did that! I was the only adult to choose to situate myself apart from the crowd so that I could get all of those great ankle shots. My butt is still cold!

Beware of False Prophets

It's February 13th and as much as I'd like to spend the day studying January's seed catalogs, I know that "frost free" where I live means June 1st (108 days from now, which is longer than our entire growing season!). So when my beloved brazenly declared that "it's like a spring day out there" this morning, you can rest assured that he'd left the gods no other course of action than to give that cosmic snow globe a good hard shake. Now I've got two frosty ducks huddled on my doorstep waiting for an explanation..........

Home Schooling 101 or How to Cast an Evil Spell on a Pubescent Princess

Anyone who lives with a burgeoning teen knows that every day isn't going to be harmonious...... (especially if you're trying to home school your beloved urchin). Today was one of those days that called for a firm hand, serious discussion, and consequences. A girl, (me) can only put up with just so much grunting, eye rolling, and exasperated gasps while searching the depths of her brain trying to remember if she ever attended the seventh grade (and whether or not there was any math involved). I mean, all I really recall about Junior High involves flashbacks of ghastly social torture and speed dressing in the locker room. So I did it. I gave her my stern stop that grunting lecture! Unfortunately, I couldn't keep a straight face. Goth seems to think that this technique isn't very effective when peppered with giggles so........... I cast a spell on her. She is now going to spend eternity as a frosty metal rocking horse getting sat on by every runny nosed toddler in this icy eden. That'll teach her some patience. And the next time I need 2 seconds before providing her with my fumbling mathematical genius she'll think twice before rolling her eyes in disgust if she knows what's good for her.

Forget Your Perfect Offering............

I knew this was going to happen. I find living quietly really fulfilling. But I knew when I started this that spending each day in stillness doesn't exactly provide much blog fodder. So here I am with no idea of what to write. (I feel like Pooh in Benjamin Hoff's The Tao of Pooh........... an uncarved block.) So this is it. I'm not really sure what this blog is about, or where it's going, but it will probably contain a little about art (see photo), a little about homeschooling, a LOT about animals and life in the mountains. And today.......Leonard Cohen. I'm a huge fan of his writing and since I can't think of anything to write myself, I'll just leave you with snippets of some of my favorite lyrics from his song Anthem (as sung by Perla Batalla & Julie Christensen).

The wars they will
Be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
Bought and sold
And bought again
The dove is never free

*******&*******

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in

101 Things You May or May Not Know About Goth

The Muse and I have a single progeny.

Her name is *not* Goth
and here’s a list of 101 things
you may or may not know about her:

~ She’s 4,481 days old.
~ She’s been home schooled her whole life.
~ She never wears socks........ ever!
~ She loves pizza.
~ She hates children.
~ If you ever want a friend for life, give her chocolate.
~ She’s a blue stripe in Tae Kwon Do.
~ She’s a gamer.
~ There are cockroaches in her bedroom.
~ Hers is the filthiest bedroom in the northern hemisphere but the cockroaches are pets.
~ She’s pretty darn smart.
~ She rarely wears a coat no matter how cold it is and it drives me nuts because I found this
totally cool jacket online..........okay, I’ll stop.
~ She used to be a Girl Scout.
~ She longs for urban America.
~ She has two pet rats.
~ She’s an amazing artist.
~ She will give her first born to anyone who can cure menorrhagia, hypoglycemia &
PMS.
~ Her favorite book is The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice.
~ Did I mention the gaming?
~ If you come visit she’ll take you frogging.
~ She’s physically, psychologically, and emotionally attached to the computer.
~ She’s not a big fan of power outages.
~ She hates when adults are condescending toward her.
~ Her favorite color is neon green.
~ Her Mother (me) embarrasses her.
~ Her Father embarrasses her too.
~ Her hair is 27” long.
~ She can be pretty ornery
~ and sarcastic.
~ She doesn’t believe in Santa Claus but tries hard not to ruin it for me because I
still do.
~ She’s been known to eat broccoli on occasion.
~ She will NOT eat carrots.
~ She has a dog.
~ She’s dangerous to wake up.
~ She’s obsessed with World of Warcraft.
~ She’s a 6 year veteran of Neopets.
~ It’s hard to get her to leave Red Lobster.
~ She loves shrimp,
~ hates snow,
~ but loves snow crab.
~ Her cat is going for the feline world record for obesity.
~ She sold a piece of her art in NEW YORK City!!!!!
~ She’s never been to an amusement park.
~ She loves blood sucking vampires.
~ She got a horse skull and disco ball for Christmas; don’t even ask!
~ Her favorite television shows are Mythbusters,
~ House,
~ Scrubs, &
~ Jackass.
~ She’s never been to church and has been taught that God and "religion" are distinctly
separate entities.
~ She likes her Nintendo DS.
~ Her Grandparents took her to Yellowstone last summer.
~ She hates spiders.
~ She’s into horror movies although she’s not supposed to watch them.
~ She can’t drive yet.
~ She likes 3 Days Grace,
~ Skillet,
~ Evanescence,
~ and Tatu.
~ She has more stuffed animals than Toys R Us.
~ If you give her a Barbie she’ll decapitate it and melt it in a campfire.
~ She hasn't worn a dress since she was 4.
~ She loves slugs
~ and hates things that are too girly.
~ Her favorite song is Pet by Perfect Circle.
~ She loves fireworks,
~ hates politics.......
~ and doctors.
~ She’s only had one filling......so far.
~ She's going to need y e a r s of therapy when we get through with her!

Okay, forget the 101 things, that's too many.
She’s a great kid but enough is enough.
You get the idea..... We love her alot!!!!!!

I've Been Robbed!!!!!!

No, this isn’t a post about Super Tuesday, delegates, or the Supreme Court’s decision in 2000. No, this.............. is serious. Really Serious. I don’t know who, but someone out there drove to the middle of nowhere and then managed to evade two very aggressive geese to slide through the trecherous ice trap that is my yard. And if that wasn’t enough they proceeded to fend off nearly 200 pounds of totally obnoxious and untrained canines, enter my kitchen, and steal my can opener. Now what kind of a lunatic would do this? To make matters worse the unscrupulous maniac left the dog’s can opener untouched. Perhaps, knowing that the above mentioned eating machines love nothing more than their food, he was able to keep them busy defending their own can opener thus leaving mine vulnerable to all kinds of weird fetishy misdeeds. It’s just diabolical! Every time I start to open a can I'm confronted with debilitating anxiety over how long one really needs to scrub a dog’s can opener in order to erase all thought of raw meaty byproducts. The worst part is that George Bush was right. There are evil doers out there, and they’re insidiously undermining our way of life one disappearing can opener at a time.

Composting????

Me and Jeff

Unlike this little guy, the last thing in the world I am is nocturnal. I like to (and need to) sleep.....a lot! So when Larry was at my side before the sun, muttering something about a problem, it took a minute before I could absorb the fact that he actually expected me to abandon my warm comforter and trek out into the arctic (15 below!!!) morning air to help him. Still, it was hard to be too put out once I got a look at our little terrorist huddled beneath the pigeon's heat lamp trying not to freeze to death like the rest of us. And the massive carnage I was expecting only amounted to a single decapitated little corpse (he wasn't quite the monster I'd envisioned when I grabbed those over sized gloves). As it turns out, I think he was as happy to leave our flock of crazed and distraught pigeons as they were to have him leave. It was just amazing to be able to hold him even for the short amount of time it took to release him (he was completely calm and never even tried to peck or scratch me). The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been to have had Jeff Corwin here..........

Hmmmm.....Maybe a Threesome!

I think I’m in love. I mean, I’m not sure who with, but it doesn't really matter. It's just the high of fantasizing about them. Listening to Clinton and Obama makes me feel like a giddy teenager giggling over who she should take to prom. On the other hand, because I live and vote in republican country it’s more like being the invisible geek who never gets picked up, ever. Luckily, it's not really relevant. I mean, no matter which one gets the nomination, or who nominates them, I will be able to walk around dreamily with my head in the clouds.............at least until November. For the first time in 7 years I don’t feel like abandoning my beloved home and running shamefacedly across the border to Canada. OMG!!!!!! C&G! CFV!! FC! GD&H! GMBO! and finally, EOR. (O.K, I’m only up to G in the chat speak dictionary and already I can’t take it anymore.) You get the idea. And hey, if you're one of the other guys, do me a favor, and whatever you do just don't nominate Huckabee, okay? I mean, we really don't need another president who's unevolved.

Morning Walk