When did Peter become an old Jewish woman?
It disturbed me to notice what a different dog Sydney is when with one or the other Hornbuckle-Fritz.
With Steven she is a working dog, eager to hunt down wild chickens, bite pigeons on the neck, or bark at the neighbor's pig, Francis, who likes to muscle his way into the chickens' pens and eat all of their food.
What good is "Egg Maker" going to do for that pig? Bacon!
Sydney dives fearlessly into cane grass, guinnea grass, quack grass, whatever hideously overgrown dinosaur bladed carnivorous tropical plant infested with hungry bloodsucking insects, and dives out again with every hair in place, grinning from ear to ear.
When Peter and Sydney are alone, Sydney plays the froofroo and struts delicately about the severely manicured "front" yard. Peter warns her about a blade of grass which may have been cut leaving a sharp edge, and Sydney raises one paw and backs away, as if the very thought of soiling herself is enough to discourage her from taking a risk and putting her paw down on the dirty, filthy, dirty ground.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Olive oil on you toasted bagel?
I'm not planning on being in any condition to drive over the next few days. I've been diligently taking care of jobs around the house and garden. A phone call to my window supplier revealed that, why of course the windows are supposed to be painted on the outside and stained or primed and painted on the inside. News to me. I've also become entranced by the spectacular blooms in my garden: currently bearded and yellow Iris are abundant and enormous. They seem happy, but there are some who have been overtaken by the spread of Mexican Sage or Rosemary, and should be relocated once the green is going.
The moon is nearly full, and the air has been mild and fresh.
The pugs and I are all three worn out from work and walks in the sand.
The bats have nearly all left the attic! It's been a long haul, persuading them that there are really much more comfortable places for them to roost and making the conditions up there increasingly uncomfortable for them until they agreed with me and left. Or died.
Two bats had become tangled in netting that I've stapled under eaves to discourage the swarms of swallows that are desperate to colonize my house as sundown approaches. Their mummified convulsions were evidence of unpleasant deaths. I was surprised to see the quantity (two dozen or more) and sharpness (razor sharp) of their teeth, although they were tiny. I'm sure that had their little faces not been desiccated from hours, days, or weeks spent suspended by an entangled wingtip or toenail from a tattered bird netting.
A third bat had found its way into the living room, and met his demise hanging upside down a few inches from the cord to the window blind.
Peter Mintun is in town, he played a gig at the Venetian Room on Saturday, and he's playing at the Art Deco Ball this coming week. The SF International Film Festival has got everyone excited, and of course there are freeways being melted by exploding gasoline trucks.
p.s. watched "The Patsy" on TCM's "Silent Sunday" tonight. Marion Davies was so funny on film! It's a very cute comedy, younger sister Pat has a crush on big sister Grace's boyfriend, and moons around whenever they're visiting. Grace is no good, and boyfriend doesn't know Pat is alive, until...this was a "Marion Davies Production" and Directed by King Vidor. Marie Dressler played the mother, and rumor has it that she was prepared to end her life when she was spotted having her "last meal" in a Hollywood restaurant and re-discovered on the spot. It was pretty obvious that that story was entirely concocted by a Hedda Hopper, with the express purpose of diverting attention away from Marion Davies.
"She was all dressed up in black lace! There were candles on the table, and she was dining alone!"
The moon is nearly full, and the air has been mild and fresh.
The pugs and I are all three worn out from work and walks in the sand.
The bats have nearly all left the attic! It's been a long haul, persuading them that there are really much more comfortable places for them to roost and making the conditions up there increasingly uncomfortable for them until they agreed with me and left. Or died.
Two bats had become tangled in netting that I've stapled under eaves to discourage the swarms of swallows that are desperate to colonize my house as sundown approaches. Their mummified convulsions were evidence of unpleasant deaths. I was surprised to see the quantity (two dozen or more) and sharpness (razor sharp) of their teeth, although they were tiny. I'm sure that had their little faces not been desiccated from hours, days, or weeks spent suspended by an entangled wingtip or toenail from a tattered bird netting.
A third bat had found its way into the living room, and met his demise hanging upside down a few inches from the cord to the window blind.
Peter Mintun is in town, he played a gig at the Venetian Room on Saturday, and he's playing at the Art Deco Ball this coming week. The SF International Film Festival has got everyone excited, and of course there are freeways being melted by exploding gasoline trucks.
p.s. watched "The Patsy" on TCM's "Silent Sunday" tonight. Marion Davies was so funny on film! It's a very cute comedy, younger sister Pat has a crush on big sister Grace's boyfriend, and moons around whenever they're visiting. Grace is no good, and boyfriend doesn't know Pat is alive, until...this was a "Marion Davies Production" and Directed by King Vidor. Marie Dressler played the mother, and rumor has it that she was prepared to end her life when she was spotted having her "last meal" in a Hollywood restaurant and re-discovered on the spot. It was pretty obvious that that story was entirely concocted by a Hedda Hopper, with the express purpose of diverting attention away from Marion Davies.
"She was all dressed up in black lace! There were candles on the table, and she was dining alone!"
Hungry Birds
So apparently chickens are descended from dinosaurs.
Specifically, some genetic goo extracted from the fossilized bone of a Tyranosaurus Rex was analyzed to prove a direct link from T Rex to modern birds. At the same time, Steve's chickens exhibited a proven taste for flesh, most especially the hot living flesh of feathered visitors to the chicken pens, whether pigeons who have snuck in for free eats or a fellow hen with whom they have shared the coop for the past few years. Once a member of the flock exhibits weakness or instability, the others are beholden to take her out and consume her flesh.
The cannibalism seems to carry no social stigma, but merely serves to alert the chicken keeper that the birds are needing more protein in their diet.
While visiting Maui, Steve took me to Costco, and to WalMart to buy chicken food. He hadn't told me very much in advance about our upcoming adventure...so I enjoyed the surprise very much!
The next day when I traded my "upgraded for free" mini-van for the 2-door economy car that I had reserved, I wondered what the Hertz would think about the empty chicken feed bags in the back of the mini-van.
Specifically, some genetic goo extracted from the fossilized bone of a Tyranosaurus Rex was analyzed to prove a direct link from T Rex to modern birds. At the same time, Steve's chickens exhibited a proven taste for flesh, most especially the hot living flesh of feathered visitors to the chicken pens, whether pigeons who have snuck in for free eats or a fellow hen with whom they have shared the coop for the past few years. Once a member of the flock exhibits weakness or instability, the others are beholden to take her out and consume her flesh.
The cannibalism seems to carry no social stigma, but merely serves to alert the chicken keeper that the birds are needing more protein in their diet.
While visiting Maui, Steve took me to Costco, and to WalMart to buy chicken food. He hadn't told me very much in advance about our upcoming adventure...so I enjoyed the surprise very much!
The next day when I traded my "upgraded for free" mini-van for the 2-door economy car that I had reserved, I wondered what the Hertz would think about the empty chicken feed bags in the back of the mini-van.
Here, Chicky, Chicky!
My trip to Maui to see Varla Jean Merman's Hawaiian debut was fun, and strange. Because of a symphony night, the last of my season, I didn't arrive on Maui until the day of Varla's performance.
"Oh, this is Maui! Nobody gets dressed up...you'll be hideously overdressed if you wear anything more than shorts!"
"You didn't pack any socks, did you?"
"Oh, do you want to see the chickens? You can help me feed them."
"Have you ever held a chicken before? Here!"
"You should have seen the look on your face when I passed you that chicken! Hysterical!!
And that is how I came to see Varla Jean Meraman's show dressed for a chicken ranch.
"Oh, this is Maui! Nobody gets dressed up...you'll be hideously overdressed if you wear anything more than shorts!"
"You didn't pack any socks, did you?"
"Oh, do you want to see the chickens? You can help me feed them."
"Have you ever held a chicken before? Here!"
"You should have seen the look on your face when I passed you that chicken! Hysterical!!
And that is how I came to see Varla Jean Meraman's show dressed for a chicken ranch.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Pug Thugs
There is something wrong with Lulu.
On at least three occasions since I've been home Lulu has yelped in pain. She hasn't done it in my sight, however, so I'm puzzled as to the cause or reason for her complaints.
Isabella has been especially demonstrative to me. Whenever Lulu is behaving strangely, Isabella makes it a point to get my attention. She walks deliberately toward me, fixing me with her murky eye. If I kneel down to her level, she walks right up to me and puts her front paws on my lap, then looks uncomfortably over her shoulder at Lulu. Lulu is a pathetic creature at this point, really playing the part of a wounded soul.
Tonight she wouldn't even touch her dinner! I could tell that she was hungry, and she wanted to eat it...but she put a lot of effort into NOT eating it. Hunger strike!
My reading of their story is that Matt took the girls on at least one "pack walk" to the "Dog Park" and Lulu got her ass handed to her on a doggy platter. I don't think that she was physically damaged beyond care and repair, but emotionally she has been severely shaken.
I don't know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing. I have long avoided the Dog Park people, for at least as long as Lulu has been with me. Once Frankie could no longer catch the frisbee, the Dog Park seemed less fun. The only reason we were excited about the park was because it allowed us space to run and catch the frisbee. Too many other people made it an "issue" and spoiled the fun.
Hopefully she will have an appetite for breakfast in a few hours. If I can let her know that I understand her story, maybe she will be able to relax.
On at least three occasions since I've been home Lulu has yelped in pain. She hasn't done it in my sight, however, so I'm puzzled as to the cause or reason for her complaints.
Isabella has been especially demonstrative to me. Whenever Lulu is behaving strangely, Isabella makes it a point to get my attention. She walks deliberately toward me, fixing me with her murky eye. If I kneel down to her level, she walks right up to me and puts her front paws on my lap, then looks uncomfortably over her shoulder at Lulu. Lulu is a pathetic creature at this point, really playing the part of a wounded soul.
Tonight she wouldn't even touch her dinner! I could tell that she was hungry, and she wanted to eat it...but she put a lot of effort into NOT eating it. Hunger strike!
My reading of their story is that Matt took the girls on at least one "pack walk" to the "Dog Park" and Lulu got her ass handed to her on a doggy platter. I don't think that she was physically damaged beyond care and repair, but emotionally she has been severely shaken.
I don't know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing. I have long avoided the Dog Park people, for at least as long as Lulu has been with me. Once Frankie could no longer catch the frisbee, the Dog Park seemed less fun. The only reason we were excited about the park was because it allowed us space to run and catch the frisbee. Too many other people made it an "issue" and spoiled the fun.
Hopefully she will have an appetite for breakfast in a few hours. If I can let her know that I understand her story, maybe she will be able to relax.
Audience of One
Tonight's fare was Stravinsky, Tchaichovsky, and Citizen Cake.
I can't remember ever having a more enjoyable evening.
Alice brought her daughter and sone-in-law to the symphony. I've only seen Alice at one other performance all season, and this was the first I've met her daughter. Mattie is a lovely, quiet girl.
John Goldman was on hand to congratulate MTT on being awarded a Grammy Award for his recording of Mahler's 7th. It was a very glamorous moment, and MTT took the opportunity to thank everyone in a genuine, gracious, and appreciative way that gave us each a share in the pride of such an achievement.
For performers of any kind, without an audience it's just psychosis.
Dinner tonight featured Will's Balls - a mozzarella and artichoke risotto fritter - which I chose to have with greens (I was given a lovely spring mix, roasted sunflower seeds, and a delicate vinagraitte) and then Will's tagliatelle with a duck confit ragu. There were roasted baby yellow beets for added color, flavor and texture. Dessert was a new one: warm chocolate chibouste, tonka bean ice cream,with cocoa beans and junipero sauce.
I am working on a plan to provide tickets for Friends of John McGehee. Rather than give blindly, I would like to administer donation amounts that correspond to seats in the house. I will have to learn how these items are counted. Ideally someone would approace the box office the day of a performance and inform the staff that they are a friend of John McGehee. If there are tickets available, my friend can have his or her pick and the charge will be debited to my account. The tricky part is to keep the account on the "tax deductible" side for me. Would it be possible for the House to simply cooperate and throw some decent soul into an empty? Perhaps there can be an arrangement whereby the House recovers its costs and then puts the remainder of the ticket price to a 'Greatest Need' use.
I can't remember ever having a more enjoyable evening.
Alice brought her daughter and sone-in-law to the symphony. I've only seen Alice at one other performance all season, and this was the first I've met her daughter. Mattie is a lovely, quiet girl.
John Goldman was on hand to congratulate MTT on being awarded a Grammy Award for his recording of Mahler's 7th. It was a very glamorous moment, and MTT took the opportunity to thank everyone in a genuine, gracious, and appreciative way that gave us each a share in the pride of such an achievement.
For performers of any kind, without an audience it's just psychosis.
Dinner tonight featured Will's Balls - a mozzarella and artichoke risotto fritter - which I chose to have with greens (I was given a lovely spring mix, roasted sunflower seeds, and a delicate vinagraitte) and then Will's tagliatelle with a duck confit ragu. There were roasted baby yellow beets for added color, flavor and texture. Dessert was a new one: warm chocolate chibouste, tonka bean ice cream,with cocoa beans and junipero sauce.
I am working on a plan to provide tickets for Friends of John McGehee. Rather than give blindly, I would like to administer donation amounts that correspond to seats in the house. I will have to learn how these items are counted. Ideally someone would approace the box office the day of a performance and inform the staff that they are a friend of John McGehee. If there are tickets available, my friend can have his or her pick and the charge will be debited to my account. The tricky part is to keep the account on the "tax deductible" side for me. Would it be possible for the House to simply cooperate and throw some decent soul into an empty? Perhaps there can be an arrangement whereby the House recovers its costs and then puts the remainder of the ticket price to a 'Greatest Need' use.
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