That reminds me...

Several years ago, I had a visitor from San Francisco who offered to help me in the kitchen. I put her to work cutting up the veg for the salad. I knew she knew where the garbage pail was, so I was surprised when she asked me where to put the inedible bits from the veg. She was appalled that I would actually throw such things in the trash.

I guess it all makes sense now-- San Francisco is going to fine people for throwing scraps in the garbage, making composting mandatory. I've had a compost heap before, and I like it, and one day when I cook more frequently, I'll do so again. However, I wouldn't dream of living in a place which mandated me not to throw scraps in my own damned trash, a service for which I already pay.

Considering her husband spent about 3 hours a day driving to and from work, the way I see it, her carbon footprint was loads larger than mine. I'm ready to be judged.

blast from the past...

I wrote this post a short while back, mebbe 4 or 5 weeks ago. It's funny to me that Thursday I realized how much less stress I've been under now that I don't work where I used to work. In fact, I realized that most days I don't even think about the nightmarish vista of landmines and pitfalls which used to comprise my work on a daily basis, all courtesy of an arrogant cuss whose very policy seemed to be "if it ain't broke, mess with it until it is." A sage soul once told me that working with that individual was a trial by fire, and that after that, no job I ever had could possibly be so stressful. Perhaps that would have been a good time to become an air traffic controller. Anyhoo, I'm out, and I don't miss it. Even after 6 weeks at the new job (hard to believe!), I'm not halfway through the training process. Still, things seem to be going well and I'm enjoying a greatly reduced stress level, mainly because I never have exchanges like the one detailed below:




Sunday I went to Dallas on a couple errands, and I was dazzled by the rude and heavy traffic in town for a midday Sunday. I fairly howled "I don't miss this!" Anyway, I'm well away from that. A thousand things irritated me, and I felt the stress of it all melt away as I drove beyond the city limits to head for the hacienda. Then I remembered my former job and how trying it was to work in an environment where priorities shifted at the dictate of someone who expected everyone else to be telepathic. I wrote this conversation down the day it happened several months ago:

Him: Are you going to let this plant take over your office?
Me: I think it looks fine but if you want me to trim it, I will. Do you want me to trim it back?
Him: No. I want you to trim it when you want to trim it.
Me: I don't mind. If you want it cut back now, we'll cut it.
Him: No. Just don't let it take over your office.
Me: Just let me know when you want us to cut it.

He didn't want me to do things when I think they need doing- he wanted what I wanted to alter according to what he would do. Add to the frustration of this sort of conversation the fact that such things usually happened when I was busy trying to tend real issues of a pressing nature.

The irony was that in times of crisis or pressing need, it was vital that I be able to think independently and solve problems, but other times we'd have sticky wickets over little inconsequential details like the growth trajectory of a potted palm somehow ekeing out an existence in a sterile, indoor office environment.


I don't miss this, indeed.

I'm tickled as can be to live where I do now. Life is sweet. :)

Exotica Thursday - Yma-way! uh-Yma-way!

I sense you're lagging today, woefully in need of a punch coffee has no hope of ever delivering. I need it too.

We need some Yma Sumac 'round he-ah!

Can any splendor rival that of a vocal tattoo-needle?

I think not. Enjoy.

What's in your backyard?

Oh! Does.

Oh, deer.

Oh, deers.

This seems to be a favorite hangout with the deer set lately. They're usually out near the end of the day. I really need to get a better lens to capture stuff like this. They were mebbe 200 yards from my back door.

I thought there was a baby following one of the does, and sure enough I could clearly see it in a lot of the photos, and much clearer than I could see with no glasses on.

Out for my nightly walk Tuesday, a cottontail rabbit sat looking much too casual and comfortable as I walked to within a few feet of him. There's a rainbow of wildflowers in bloom now, and the thistles are bursting forth like gangbusters. I saw a hummingbird buzz the prickly pear out front a couple weeks ago, too. Rattlers notwithstanding, I'm loving the rugged wilderness so close at hand.

I'm told this area will feel a lot like Dallas this summer, only windier. I suppose that means it'll be like walking around in the blast from a frighteningly large hair dryer. *shrug* In for a penny, in for a pound.

The camel rep called...

They want their toe back.

Heaven knows I love a funky shoe, but I must take exception to the questionable toe action on this boot.

Um, okay.

Called Space Snacks, this little rocket boy boot is super-cute, and I would be seriously tempted if not for the toe thing.

Am I losing my cool, or is this just odd?

Lightning show

Yeah, I know it doesn't look like much, but I was so excited to catch a teeny piece of lightning in a photo this past weekend. The storms out here are fairly spectacular, and this day there were magnificent bursts of lightning branching out and veining the sky. I love it out here. :)

Good thing I like violent weather.

as the scales fall away from their eyes... well, maybe.

TOTWTYTR has a post up about Useful Idiots. I agree wholeheartedly. After all, there is no more bitter, hardened cynic in the world than the person who started out as a dewy-eyed naif, a dyed-in-the-wool believer. (OOPS, meant to put THIS link on this post, but I'll leave the other up, because it's a doozie, too.)

Sunday, puppy Sunday.

Faster than the camera can see!

Praline is utterly besotted with this orange plastic ball. These past 2 months, this ball has been her constant companion and she pines for it if ever they are separated. Her relationship with the ball is, frankly, obsessive. Sometimes she has to have a break from the ball when I'm taking a shower, because she'll keep dropping it over the edge of the tub then jumping in to fetch it. Bee-zarre.


Chuy doesn't care a whit for the ball, but he's cunning enough to know Praline cares. Once we acquired this huge, fabulous yard, Chuy quickly figured out that though he probably wouldn't outpace Miss P on a long haul, he can outrun her in short bursts and can certainly outmaneuver her. An engineering giant in pocket-form, Chuy makes the most of his short wheel-base to turn on a dime while Praline powers past him, full-bore and into the next county by the time she recognizes the quarry has turned. She'll probably figure out his game sooner or later, but for now, it absolutely maddens her, and that makes it all great fun to watch.

• Stupid human throws ball for Praline
• Praline fetches ball
• Praline plays tug-of-war for ball with stupid human
• Stupid human finally gets ball
• Stupid human throws ball again
• Whoopsie! Chuy got the ball first
• Chuy ambles around, making great show of ball in mouth
• zomg! Praline sees ball! Praline wantses ball, precious!
• The chase is on
• Chuy hauls ass, just slowing enough occasionally to keep Praline hopeful
• Chuy sees a toothsome twig in yard
• Chuy forgets ball and flops down for a nice little chew
• Praline and ball are together again
• *bliss*

Bumper Dumper

It's the way to go when you're on the move...

Call me thin-skinned, but this sorta rubbed me the wrong way:

THis story was from a couple months ago, but I was in the throes of a big move and couldn't blog it then.

Hummer owner says he was 'unjustly targeted' by vandal



Yeah, even the quotation marks offended me. The vandal-- a 72-year old envirofascist weenie who serves on one of the Southlake city boards-- is clearly shown on the video camera, and in he article is referred to as an "upstanding Southlake senior citizen" though not in quotation marks in their version.

Their description seems a tacit approval of the act of the vandal, imho.

*harumph*

Yet another reason to be happy to live in Elsewhere and away from the Metroplex.

Larry Correia owes me $49.99, plus shipping and handling ;)

A few months ago, I repaired to the bathtub to enjoy a lovely bubble bar from LUSH and sip a nice Rioja whilst reading Monster Hunter International by Larry Correia. [buy this book]

I was sipping from this lovely Rosenthal crystal stem, having carefully perched it at the other end of the tub so I wouldn't knock it over flipping a page or as I dove to get the cell phone. I bought this stemware several years back at a closeout store. They were a bit of a splurge, but I ended up with a couple dozen glasses, all at well under $10 a stem. They were fancy, I knew, but how fancy I had no ideer.

I was there in the tub sunk into great foamy piles of bubbles, reading. It's a rollicking good read. In fact, if a director would stick to the story, it'd make a fabulous movie. Anyhoo, imho, one of the greatest appeals of good writing is that just when you think you've deciphered where an author is going with everything, they hang a left at Albuquerque and haul off and surprise you. Mr. Correia did just that very thing, the end result of which was I laughed so hard that my foot slipped off the end of the tub, flew up and knocked the glass over, spilling its contents and breaking the stem, alas.

I shrugged to myself and thought, well, I'll just spring for a replacement stem. Whaddayaknow if the damned things aren't ghastly expensive, in fact.

Rosenthal Estelle Red Wine

Taken from another point of view, stemware comes and goes. I'm sure I'll break more of these before it's all over. Hmmm... perhaps I should be selling them on ebay about now? I more than got my money's worth with this book, counting the glass. Come to think of it, Larry and me are square.

More about the neighbors...

I'm told this is quite a lot of cash on the hoof. The ponies were out back today and I had time to grab my camera and snap away for a bit. I noticed some funny, clique-style junior high behaviour.

They stood primarily in a couple circles, heads facing in, and butts outward. There was a definite cool-kid group, and the socially awkward, not-quite-so-pretty outsiders standing off to the side, looking balefully at the cool fillies with their cigarettes and tasty malt beverages purloined from their folks' stash. One of the misfits gave the anointed the stink-eye as her wonky-donkey ears twitched her irritation. She knew she was just as good as those other fillies. Unfortunately, she'd never seen her own ears, and didn't know she wasn't actually good breeding material. OTOH, she's not at the glue factory, either: she gets to live next door to me and the pups.

Horsie Junior High.

Hmph. Teenagers.

...wherein your narrator daintily navigates a thorn-strewn path...

[This post originally written some months ago, but lacking a careericidal urge, was postponed until this august hour. ]

Hmmm... how to tell this story?



Due to *ahem* professional obligations and life's circumstances, I am compelled to weekly sit in a meeting which very often involves the stripping of hide from my fair person. Yes, it's a sick, dysfunctional arrangement and I won't always be here, but for now that is the way it is. This must be endured, and for all its tediums and embuggerances, I do enjoy some definite perks... For the moment.



When there is good news regarding my work performance, it is generally preceeded by a sound cutting-off-at-the-knees. This, of course, serves the purpose of letting all concerned know they be but lowly worms and pretty much unworthy of high regard. I have cultivated a bland poker face in which I strive to not react to the sheer assholery being served me. Best not to react at all. There is a method to this madness - I think the person believes they are helping others to improve- that one should never rest on one's laurels, even laurels as fetching and finely-crafted as mine own. *pah!*



Tuesday, however, brought a turning of the worm I could scarce have imagined. Near the end of the meeting, the scornful one took a cell phone call. I heard their voice ratcheting up, stress building. The brow was knitted then promptly dropped a stitch, storm clouds billowing up behind the ears as the rage burst forth great cottony tufts. Someone was being torn a new one. Someone was very unhappy about the harangue they were being served courtesy of the caller.



I had to fight not to giggle, oh my darlings. It was magnificent. Steam! Steam billowing from mouth, ears and snout. I pulled my elbows tight to my sides, willing the giggles not to escape my aching ribs. [think, phlegm: dead puppies! tax audits! unpleasant-smelling things! don't laugh!]Good googly moogly, I was dying to laugh. Would I have to do myself a harm? Dig my nails into my palms? Pluck nosehairs, even? (not, of course, that I have any nosehairs, but...)



I was strong. I did not laugh. I was, however, smugly bemused.

Gone Fishing...

Went to a nearby lake Sunday with friends. No adults caught anything, but the kids were catching the dickens out of some bluegill perch.

The young lady worked on her cast and was doing a fair job of it. The fish photo is the second one she caught.

Here's a photo of the young man hauling one in. The crawfish really surprised me. I didn't expect to see such a large one in a lake of this size, but it looked big enough to eat. Not for me, of course, but someone else could make a good mouthful of that one.

I didn't have my fishing license, so the only thing I caught was the occasional photo of friends having fun.

That day was catch and release only. I'll be getting my license this week and next time I plan to get in on the fishing. Hopefully we'll catch a few bass and have a proper meal of them.

I'm feeling much better. Still have a little bit of a cough, but I took it easy this weekend, and I feel dramatically improved.