Maggie May

Maggie disappeared one month ago. She hated the outdoors unless I was there, and still would meow continuously until we went back inside. She slept under my covers every night. I know she loved me and would never leave, so I am having a hard time pretending that she went off to find her way in the world. However, denial is my favorite coping mechanism, so I just don't think about it. Still, I had to explain why I went aggro on a pack of coyotes, so now you know.
I love you, Maggie. Maybe now you and your sister are playing together again.

Lilly

Lilly is one beautiful lady. People have often asked me if she's purebred. Then, eyes widening when she rolls in the dirt at their feet in greeting, they might ask me if I groom her daily. Truth is, she's a "mutt" from the pound, and the only grooming she gets is whatever she gives her own self. Her brother, handsome boy that he is, looks just like her, facial structure, natural eyeliner, roman nose. Yet he's a pink toed tabby. Well, she has pink toes too, but I was thinking of Maggie, of the black foot tribe, who is also a tabby, but looks nothing like P or L.
Then, admiring Lilly and thinking these random things, I turned down a well worn path: Why do a black cat mom and a white cat dad not have grey kittens? I mean, I understand that Pheonix (yes, I know I spell it "wrong") and Lilly had different dads and the same mom, which, really, is weird enough as is, but it explains their different coloring and same bone structure. But it still doesn't explain the whole "grey" thing. I guess it's kind of a funny irony, that life isn't black and white, but instead many shades of grey- and yet, cats, independent creatures that they are, are black... and white... and orange mottled black with diversity.
However, beautiful and diverse as Lilly and her fellow felines may be, I bet her morning breath is way worse than mine.

I hope I didn't over share with that last picture there, but really, you're lucky I couldn't find the one with the actual squirrel brains leaking out. I'll shush now. I hope I didn't ruin anyone's dinner. I promise, fluffy bunnies tomorrow. Or at least no dead things. Well, maybe a skull.

A Moment

A lot can happen in a month, and I'm working on amassing all the info and pics that pertain to my last month. Today is not the day, though; today is a Blog of Silence, in memory of the lives lost on 9/11.

Diamondback Rattler pt 2

Ok I was just kidding again. Found this little snake when I was out for my evening stroll- dusk is my new favorite time to head out into the forest, with the full moon coming up the dark isn't a problem. Anyway, she didn't move until I stepped really close to look at her. Then Maggie saw her and was after her. I hadn't identified it yet and I was like oh crap what if it's poisonous??

Maggie chased her, and though she was a darn fast snake, she stopped "running" and changed her defensive tactics. She curled into a writhing swirling ball, keeping her head tucked in the middle and flailing the tip of her tail as a decoy head. The fact that she wasn't in a more aggressive stance made me pretty sure she was harmless, but I grabbed Maggie away just in case. Plus, I didn't want her to hurt the snake- I wanted to see it closer.

This is what I put her in, for the brief ten minutes of captivity she suffered so I could take some pics. This is just so you can see how small she was- maybe 13 or 14 inches. I never touched her, though. I took my shirt off and threw it over her and then gathered her up. Don't worry, I had a sweatshirt around my waist so no forest animals were subjected to indecent exposure.

Aren't her scales gorgeous? They're like gems.

After I let her go back to nature (exactly where I found her) I went on with my stroll- and not 5 minutes later a HUGE owl swooped across my path, ten feet away from my face. At first I thought it was a crow, because we have a family of some very large crows living here, but then I saw the round head and flat face, and it was bigger than the biggest crow (Wow my brain is not doing well with words today. I took an allergy pill and now I'm all sleepy. At least my nose doesn't itch anymore). It never made a sound or even flapped it's wings. Just glided by. THEN I saw a lightning show better than fireworks. Nature was on a roll last night.

I just realized that I captured an unidentified snake- the same day that I screamed bloody murder because there was a caterpillar by my front door. Mom had to come rescue me by taking it somewhere else. EEEEEEK it wiggled all fast and scary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The snake was really active, too, but that's just not my phobia. Huh. Was Potterman's though. He was a wee bit alarmed when I walked in all proud of my catch. Flying, heights, spiders, small spaces... What's your phobia?

I love abandoned buildings and racists suck

This is an abandoned restaurant/ bar. It fascinates me because I've always wondered what the planet would be like after people. Now, I don't really want humans to to be wiped off the earth, but I would like it if we could all get along. So here's my dilemma: I just met the most racist person I have ever encountered in my life.

This is looking through a hole in the door- of course I imagined a bony hand grabbing my neck as I leaned in and tried to get a shot. I couldn't see much to my right except for a chair... a chair guarding the door? Holding a phantom bouncer? The real reason (suuuure) I couldn't go inside is because of the hantavirus. Also called the Hunta virus. It's found in rodent droppings and saliva, and you can get it just from inhaling air where rodent droppings lay- aka, abandoned buildings. Too bad this slipped my mind earlier in the day when I walked through an abandoned auto shop. Anyway, it's something like 99% fatal- out of all reported cases in the U.S., only two people have ever survived, both teens. In fact, the little girl who my Mom does the Big Sister program with- her mother died of it.

So, when I meet people as racist as the one I did, I think it's why I am drawn to places like this. This guy, well, I'm sorry to go into details, but I need to explain why I wanted to bash his face in. I was saying that there are some gorgeous people of Japanese heritage, and Mexican, too. Heck, any one can be gorgeous on the outside, you all know I'm more of the inner beauty type, but there's nothing wrong with seeing a person's physical beauty. And he said, "yeah, if you like f#%&*@ donkeys and monkeys". I stared at him in horror and disgust. "I'm not racist," he says, "I just don't think species should mix".

I probably couldn't have kicked his ass, but my blood was boiling. I had to settle for ignoring him the rest of the evening, but I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. To me, he is what is wrong with this world. Live together or die alone, right? And the worst thing is, if I am intolerant of him, how can I hold his racism against him? Aren't I supposed to be all Gandhi and Martin Luther King about it? Set an example or something? And if I can't forgive and love and not want to kill people like that, I certainly can't see him changing, either. So, maybe, these abandoned buildings embody that feeling of lost hope for me. I know that being positive is the best bet, but sometimes, when I meet people like that, it feels foolish. How do we, all humans together, get a fresh start?

Somehow I have to accept people like that dude, and people like that have to do some accepting as well. Or these decrepit buildings really are our future.

Confessions of an Addict

There's my work space. Hey, it's a trailer, kay? And no, I'm not referring to the two computers (both hooked up the internet and both usually on). Although I guess it could be a habbit. A good one, I swear. Look closer.

Hey there's Leo! He ALWAYS steals my spot! He doesn't let me get up for two seconds before he yoinks it. That's Stephen King's The Stand- the extended version YAY 1200 pages of entertainment!!! It was my third time reading it. I guess that, too, could be considered one of my addictions- reading. I definitely have withdrawls if I go too long with out.

But let's look a little closer. Can you guess what's in my purse? Potterman couldn't, but he didn't get a peek. Also, it's not exactly your standard purse content.

It's NOT 20 packets of Taco Bell Fire Sauce. There were only 19.

I live 35 miles from Taco Bell!! Oooooh, I just got to go the other day, too. I went with my gf Flower, and it turns out she loves Taco Bell, too!!! We were so excited. (Can you believe it, I have a real live friend not related to me- not to diss my best friends who are family- or online AND I left home??)

Anyway, this isn't just a little taste of the fast food world, it's entertainment! Here are some quotes from my stash:

Ahhh... we meet again. (I'm happy, too.)
I collect straws.
This space for rent. Inquire within.
Help! I can't tell where I am. It's dark and I hear laughing.
Scratch & Sniff: Gotcha!
The feeling is mutual. (Oh yeah it is)
Marry me. (YES!!)

It's addiction, but it's also a love- love relationship.

Operation Tumbleweed pt. 2

I was out getting my zen on pulling tumbleweeds- BAD TREE HUGGER!!!!! - and usually I like to make a big pile, or bag full, so I can see my progress. It's more gratifying that way. Mom and Potterman were "down in the valley". See, I'm like totally local now. Back home people talked about "over the hill" not as an age reference lol but referring to San Jose- I know this is duh for pretty much every one who will read this, but just in case- well, here, going to the big city is "going to the valley". Like when someone speeds through town, "oh, they're from the VALLEY" (roll eyes).
When I'm getting my zen on, my brain does NOT get quiet and peaceful. It goes into maximum overdrive. I get all kinds of ideas, and if someone were to walk up without my knowing, they might witness me laughing to myself. Yup, out loud, at some amusing thought I just had. Well, this was one of those ideas. And as soon as I thought it, I got all panicked. What if they got home before I was done????? That would spoil the effect to say the least! So, sweating like crazy (tmi?) I did some record breaking weed harvesting, and a bit of giggling to myself as well. Close to the line of crazy? Maybe, but I never cross it, I swear. Hmmmm.... unless I'm giggling when running through a dead forest in a lightning storm... nevermind that.


I finished before they made it home- actually now that I remember that day, they weren't in the valley. They came home at different times and Mom saw it and Potterman was like, what the heck are those squiggles and lines on the pavement?

LOL I crack myself up. And NO I do not have too much time on my hands!! would you say that to a farmer spraying pesticides? I'm a farmer, man, organic even, AND an artist. The first photo will totally be in National Geographic. Yeah, that's it.

Leonidus the Ewok

This is my newest family member. (It was about 90 degrees that day and the bathtub was nice and cool- all my plants are outside on a field trip.) Leonidus is 2 years old. He weighs four pounds and will never get bigger, except maybe fatter, and his muzzle is inverted.

See this close up? That is the exact underside of his head- you can see both sides of his strange little mouth/ jaw line. His cheks stick out further than his itty bitty, always running nose. Poor guy, I think it's partly his inbread persian heritage and partly maybe allergies, so I ordered some runny eye/ nose medicine for cats from petmeds- for his sake I sure hope it works.

When he plays too hard he starts wheezing and snorting, much to the terror of Pheonix and Lilly. Thay do NOT know what to make of the strange creature running around in the garden. But you know what? Maggie and him are best friends!!!! They chase each other all over the place and it cracks me up. I felt really guilty about getting a new kitty after Sebastian died, but I also felt terrible for Maggie. L & P tolerate her to an extent, but I wanted her to have a friend again. I was worried, too- what if I got a new cat and they didn't get along?? You can imagine the sloppy grin on my face when I see them play together.

So that's Leo's story. He was a purebred reject who needed a home, whose only companion was a chihuahua that kept him hiding behind the couch, and he had probably never even seen the outdoors. I'm just glad he wasn't declawed. Now he is the happiest little snorty snuffler and, on monday when the medicine comes, hopefully he'll just be happy. I love outcasts. And I love my Leonidus.


P.S. Thanks for the bird identification, Dad! :) I knew I could count on you! I have a book and I tried, but the closest I got was MAYBE some kind of nuthatch. Or maybe a wren. Or maybe... well, like I said, good thing I got you lol.

Pine Cone Bird Feeders

Okay lemme first defend myself by saying that I didn't have any string, just ribbon. No wait, that wasn't what I wanted to defend. Oh yeah. The whole do or don't feed the wild birds thing. Well, for a long time I bought into the whole anti side. "If you feed them they will forget how to forage for themselves" and, "then if you STOP feeding them they will DIE!!!!!!" But I started thinking that if birds have, say, a favorite berry bush that dies... well, they find another one. And I just can't believe that mother nature would be that dumb to make critters that can survive thousands of years (generation wise) that would die just from one food source drying up. And if that REALLY is the case... well, it's going to sound awful but.... more food for the next critter in the chain o' life. I really, really doubt that my feeding the birds can extinct a species. There. I said it.
So I did what I have always wanted to do, and made these feeders. I tucked peanut butter in all the nooks and crannies of these pinecones and then coated them with seeds. Then I hung 'em up and within a day there were these cute little black gray and white birds all chirping and fluttering right out side my window. In just a few days they had cleaned them 'cones better n' a dishwasher. (I wish I had a dishwasher) So I have been re-coating the cones maybe once a week- they stand empty for a few days SO THERE the birds still have to forage! LOL But man those lil birds make me smile with their acrobatics. And I swear I can tell they're getting fatter. They make me happy and I think it's mutual.


P.S. I am totally Martha Stewart for birds.

Raku Pit Fire Pt. 6

Oooops, sorry 'bout the hold up peeps. Mom and I went on a five day road trip (well 2 of the days were on the road) visting friends in Colorado.
Oh, and apparently this is not a Raku firing, it's just a pit fire. Some poor art student out there totally failed their class. I'm too lazy to go change all the titles, so let's just get to the final product, shall we?

Nikita sees something in there. Why, it's Potterman! The coals must be dying. Or maybe he's going for a quick sauna. just kidding! Look at that!!!! The pots have emerged!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After Potterman carefully pulled them out with gloves and tongs, we brushed them off. There was much oohing and aahing. There were squeals of excitement. There may have been some hopping up and down and hand clapping.

There was definitely fly catching mouth action. Unearthing treasure from an ancient Egyptian tomb literally would not have been as amazing, because we were THERE. We witnessed the creation of the most beautiful pieces of art I have ever seen.

I think at the time I said "yowza". There just aren't adequate words for these pots- I'll have to stick with the usual suspects; amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, and so on.

Wow.