I feel responsible for untold numbers of bird deaths.
Since moving into a log cabin in November of 2005, I have been trying to maintain a critter-free human and pug only habitat. This part of the coast was heavily forested until the turn of the last century. Migrating populations have relied on finding what they need for their survival on a leg of their long journey that has this spot as a verified safe home. Like the large number of ocean birds that washed up recently, dead of starvation, is a very similar indication. Last year at this time of year, you had flown for 2500 miles and were ready to crash in your sweet little mud bed. You had been returning to this nest every spring since 1991. You were hatched in this very spot. It had been built by your great-great-great-great grandparents when the house was new. Swallows had built nests wherever they could, and by carefully selecting which nests to knock down and which to allow, successive generations would return to the same nest year after year. As families grow, they will expand their mud network of nests in that same permitted area.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Am I being too mean?
So to remember John Stamos replacing Antonio Banderas in the revival of Nine on Broadway is not entirely pleasant.Antonio had received rave notices on his U.S. Stage Debut, in a limited, sold-out run. I wanted to see this show, but didn't get to New York until after Antonio had left. (see, They can’t say anything bad about your acting if they can’t get into the theater to see it.)
John Stamos seemed to have some discomfort at being watched by so many people all at once, all expecting that he would know what to say and do next, or hoping that his character would.
When he came upon unfamiliar turns in the lyrics (how much time had he been given to learn them? Obviously Mister Stamos is no showtune lover. No gay knocks for me, Aunt Ida.) he turned upstage and mumbled. He may have run the back of his hand across his mouth, but that may have been Elaine Stritch demonstrating how she put her fingers in her mouth when she went up on “The Ladies Who Lunch.”
It’s a goddam beautiful day! Shut up!
John Stamos seemed to have some discomfort at being watched by so many people all at once, all expecting that he would know what to say and do next, or hoping that his character would.
When he came upon unfamiliar turns in the lyrics (how much time had he been given to learn them? Obviously Mister Stamos is no showtune lover. No gay knocks for me, Aunt Ida.) he turned upstage and mumbled. He may have run the back of his hand across his mouth, but that may have been Elaine Stritch demonstrating how she put her fingers in her mouth when she went up on “The Ladies Who Lunch.”
It’s a goddam beautiful day! Shut up!
So after spending a few minutes on IMDB.COM and even fewer on IBDB.COM I discovered that Mister Stamos was the replacement for the Master of Ceremonies in the Roundabout revival of"Cabaret" for six years! Two years before that he filled in as J.Pierrepont Finch, for nearly four months.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Kiki o'Kiki
I absolutely agree that "Kiki's Delivery Service" is a wonderful movie.I am not fond of the 1989 'merikan voiceovers. On second viewing, listening to the original Japanese which included original music and songs, the effect was closer to timeless.
Connie had a "date" tonight. Not in a car this time, but at a hotel bar. Eight o'clock. The number was working late at a cancerous infant ward down in Palo Alto, and hadn't had dinner. Neither had Connie. Oh, well, let's just have a few cocktails and get acquainted. Ok, one more.
Oh, he was hot! He was totally sexy, totally hot, really hot body, well, kinda hairy, and not worked out, but really sexy and going on, and he was having a hard time resisting but I had no trouble at all!"
"So what you're describing is a date rape situation."
"What?"
"You overpowered him, you are bigger and stronger than he is.You forced your mouth on his, without even inquiring whether..."
"What, whether he had herpes simplex, and was currently experiencing an outbreak? That sounds like a great way to break the mood!"
"I'm glad I called. I had a feeling you could use a phone call from a friend just about then."
"Oh, he was so hot! He was totally into me, too. I'm sure I'll be hearing from him again!"
"What did you say? You know for sure you won't be hearing from him again?"
Kiki, oh, kiki.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Return of the Thing
The rain came today, after four days of sparkling weather. Iris are blooming all over the garden (rumor has it that there are one or two black iris in there...) Rupert Everett's autobiography is a great read - nearly finished, after replacing the wire mesh around the chimney's rain guard - I'm satisfied that the dead bat I found in the living room came in through the chimney flu, so I braved steep ladders on a steep roof with an audience of p.o.'ed swallows to replace the tattered mesh.After my workout, I decided that I wasn't so desperate as to sit in the hot tub under a steady heavy rain. The moon will be full tonight, and by 3 am it will be over the ocean, and by then the clouds may be cleared by the projected change in wind direction, so I've set the tub to heat to 104 by 1.
Such a sad, empty life.
JD came by the house to pick up his XBox. He stayed that night, and the following one. His chief comment about the card I had sent (in which I said that I hoped there would be no hard feelings, we just can't be together, good bye and good luck, do you want this XBox or not?) was disbelief that I had offered to let him sleep on the sofa from time to time, if he ever needed innocent shelter.
"The SOFA?! HELL!"
And he didn't build a wall of pillows between us.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Pig Maker
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.
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.
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.
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