Foster's Bighorn

Rio Vista is a little town in the Sacramento River Delta. Midway between Sacramento and San Francisco, halfway between I-80 and I-5, it's a place you'd come across only if you were exploring the secondary roads in this inland delta area. Rarely, the town makes the news when a wayward humpback whale happens to stray miles from the sea, upriver. Rescuers gather there to guide the whale back to safety. There's a monument to Humphrey down by the river's edge.

Rio Vista has another strange little attraction however - one not as readily noticed. On Main Street downtown is a little storefront saloon - its facade of glass bricks only about 20' across. Inside, the bar stretches the length of the long narrow room with high ceiling - room only for a row of bar stools and space to walk behind them. At the back, the room widens out a bit into a small dining room. But it's not the dark, claustrophobic room that has us standing, transfixed, open-mouthed, when we enter. It's the decor.

Bill Frates started out as a bootlegger in San Francisco. In 1931, after Prohibition ended, he moved to Rio Vista, changed his last name to Foster, bought a bar and cafe, and went into the legitimate liquor business. Running the bar provided enough money for him to pursue an expensive hobby. Bill Foster was a trophy hunter.

We take a seat at the bar, and order a round of drinks - a fair enough "price of admission" allowing us plenty of time to gawk at his collection on display. Up high behind us is a row of taxidermied heads of the world's ungulates - deer, elk, sheep, antelope. Underneath those are closely arranged framed black and white photographs encircling the windows - the hunter posing with various carcasses, a slip of white paper with typewritten caption accompanying each picture.

My sister and I check out the dining room in the back. The sights there are even more amazing, or maybe appalling would be a better word in today's sensibilities. We trade off photographing each other. At 5'6", I'm dwarfed standing under the head of an African elephant, mounted with ears and trunk fully extended. Even more fascinating, to me, is a wall plaque bearing the head of a giraffe on the other side. Still open-mouthed, below, my sister stands with her back to the bar area.

Back on my seat at the bar, I strike up a conversation with a local gentleman sitting next to me. He tells me his favorite thing in the place is the photo hung where the bar curves to meet the wall in the front of the room. I get up to check it out, leaning in to read the caption and studying the photo. I can't help thinking about The Thornbirds.

In the novel by Colleen McCullough, there is a gripping scene that always stuck with me. After a wildfire burns through the family ranch and the father, caught out in it, doesn't return, his sons set out to find him. One son, after finding his father's body, startles a wild boar in the brush. He gets off a shot as the animal charges, killing it, but in its momentum it falls on the son, killing him as well. In the photo before me (left, center, here. Check out the video link too, but first read to the end of my post), on the left side are the remains of a hunter - only a skeleton, leather boots, and his gun are left. At his head, on the right side, are the bones and rack of a bull moose. A hunter's nightmare, only this time, it wasn't fiction.

As I finish my drink, I gaze at the animals mounted in realistic poses behind the bar. A rather strange one, above the cash register, catches my eye. A small, burrowing-type owl peers out from what looks like a hollow of a tree. But I've never seen tree bark that looks like that - it looks like the gray, wrinkled skin of an elephant. Oh, no - he didn't! Did he? I've seen the carnage left after a skunk killed some of our ducks, then feasted on the tenderest parts. Could this really be a true-to-life depiction of an opportunistic little scavenging carnivore? The gentleman next to me confirms my suspicions, earnestly telling me it's something the management doesn't really advertise.

Ok, I've been a bartender. I've heard my regular customers telling tall tales to gullible tourists. It's a very common barroom occurrence. But I believe him. If you're ever in the area, check the place out (or click on through to the video on the Foster's Bighorn website, linked to above. Stop the video at 1:21 to see what I'm talking about, there, just left of center frame). Tell me what you think. Tree, gray mud, or is it elephant?

Reno Italian Festival

This is a tourist area, so there are lots of events year-round designed to draw in the Californians. But this past weekend was an event that always seems more oriented towards the locals. Always held the weekend of the Columbus Day holiday, the Reno Italian Festival has long been a favorite of ours.

Virginia Street is closed to cars from the Reno Arch to Circus Circus - a big, free street fair. The crowd is an easy-going, family-centered one - lots of dogs and kids, no one smoking outside (all the smokers are inside the casinos, I guess), everyone enjoying our beautiful fall weather.

There are a couple of live-music stages, with acts ranging from accordion bands to Italian crooners; booths selling gelato, wine and Bellini's, artichoke hearts and cheesy garlic bread; street entertainers that range from stilt walkers to living statues, jugglers and balloon-twisters.

New this year was a Farmers Market and Crafts area in the park where the train tracks used to be, before the covered train trench made the downtown much more pedestrian- and traffic-friendly.

We just missed the semi-finals of the boccie ball tournament, and didn't feel like waiting around to see the final round. So we wandered back through the crowd to the other end of the fair, arriving just in time for another round of the grape-stomping contest.

The grape-stompers compete as eight teams of two - a bare-footed stomper plus a mucker that scrapes the juice towards the drain spigot and into a jug. After three-minute rounds, the team with the most juice by weight wins that round (it looks like Topsy the Clown has been stomping grapes too).

A woman came up and asked Aries if he'd like to be her mucker in the next round. He said no - a good thing, because I really like the shirt he was wearing, and grape juice can leave such a nasty stain.

But the best part of the Italian Fest is the Sauce Contest. After the judges are through tasting, anyone can buy a bowl of thick spaghetti noodles (with spoon-it-yourself cheese) for $1. You take your bowl around to each of the 25-30 sauce booths lining both sides of the street, and they'll ladle on a bit. Then you stand there in the middle of the street with your bowl and fork, slurping up one sauce after another. I'll usually eat just the sauce off the top of the noodles, and then go on to the next. Most places will also put their sauce on a small slice of Italian bread, so you can taste it apart from the strange soup that develops in the bottom of your bowl. Halfway through, I was overwhelmed by all the tomato sauces, so searched out only the booths that had white or pesto sauces. The Casale family pesto was my pick; Aries goes more for the tomato and hot Italian sausage ones.

Of Cabbages and Kings

Yesterday, I got seven and a half pounds of cabbage, from ones that split and heads too little to store, shredded, salted, and packed into a crock for sauerkraut (how-to here). My cabbages grow in the same bed as my root crops. I stop watering for a week or so before digging the carrots, beets, and potatoes. But I've had problems getting enough moisture out of the cabbage, and don't like feeling like I'm bruising it instead of just packing it down.

So this year I tried soaking the heads overnight first, and then letting them drain/drip dry in the dish drainer this morning. That worked great - the cabbage shreds were crisp and crunchy, and once tossed with the salt started to sweat right away. When I packed it into the crock there was plenty of brine. I put the crock into the cellar, where it will slowly ferment over the next couple of months. I've still have 4½ nice big cabbages for fresh eating this winter too.

While I was in the kitchen, Aries picked the apples from our MacIntosh and Liberty trees (those are my potted fig trees in the wagon - not normally grown in Nevada. Right now, they're being moved in and out of the garage until they go dormant, and then they'll spend the winter in the cellar). We got a lot of apples, but they were all so small, some bird-pecked, and some of these late apples had worms in them (the earlier Freedom apples were much better; and the birds got all the Gravensteins, our earliest apple, this year). We also gleaned three baskets of heirloom apples from an old tree on a lawyers' office lawn in the old section of town before the snow. They're beautiful, big apples, but three-quarters of those were wormy too. I picked through them, and put the good ones in the cellar. We're going to make a batch of hard cider from all the rest. I'll write about it when we do. After he finished with the apples, Aries started cleaning up the garden - pulling out all the plants that froze, shredding them, getting them into the compost bin.


I can't believe he did it again!
Black kale, Tuscan, dinosaur, Lacinato - whatever you call it, it's supposed to be the king of kales for taste and texture. Last year, I had one plant, that I stuck in with the peppers and tomatoes after a pepper plant died. I was really looking forward to having a wonderful winter green for fresh eating. But after the first freeze, and Aries had cleaned up the garden, my beautiful kale plant was gone! He'd pulled it up along with the dead plants. "Couldn't [he] see it was a thriving plant, not dead?" He said he was sorry - he didn't realize it was something I wanted. What else could I do but forgive him?

This summer, I set out three black kale plants, this time, in with the rest of the greens and hardy plants. They grew great. The aphids didn't bother them, neither did the recent snow - all three were strong healthy plants almost two feet tall. And today, all three were gone! Again! His defense: "they didn't look like food."

Aaarrgggh! It's thriving, in a vegetable garden - what else would it be! I still can't believe it - especially since he left a puny little chard plant growing right next to them, and some weedy bitter overgrown mustard plants down the way a bit (he also pulled up all my lettuce plants I had purposely let go to seed so I could harvest the seeds - ok, they did look pretty weedy; and the last head of cauliflower - now that had to look like food). Sometimes I just don't understand how that man thinks!

Ok, I have to get over it. What's done is done. On another note: Two nights ago, the full moon rose over the middle of Prison Hill. Our house is pretty much square with the compass points, and the moon was due east, straight out from the deck and our big window. Then tonight, when I went out to close up the chicken coop, the moon was coming up waaaaay over to the northeast, clear over above the north end of Prison Hill. I couldn't even see it from our big window. Even though I've noticed the same thing before (was it this time of year? maybe), it's hard to believe the moon's orbit wobbled that much in only two days (they haven't bombed it yet, have they?). Or is the Earth wobbling on its axis? Maybe that's why we're having earthquakes and tsunamis? Can the ancient Mayans be right after all?

Can You Believe This?

I've been writing about our little Missy chicken - a Brown Leghorn that was given to us at least 10 years ago that just died a couple of days ago. When she died, I asked Aries if we should call or email Alan and Mary, the couple that gave her to us, to tell them about Missy. They'd moved over the Sierras, to a town hours away, years ago. Aries had no idea how to reach them anymore, so we just said oh well. That was two days ago.

Today, Aries' day off, we decided to go for a ride over the Sierras to Daffodil Hill (I'll write more about that shortly). So off we go, up over the snowy Sierras via Carson Pass. About an hour into the drive, I ask Aries for a potty-stop (I'd been drinking coffee) at the Snow-Park just past the top of the pass. Most folks stop at the rest area on top of the pass, but I like the parking area where no one else stops, just a quarter-mile down the other side, better.

So we pull into the almost empty parking lot - only two other cars there. One is empty - they must be out cross-country skiing or snowshoeing. The other car is up near the restroom, both passengers out near their open trunk, as we pull in. "Can you believe this!" Aries says, "Look! That's Alan and Mary." He honks and parks, they're looking at us wondering who's honking at them until we get out of the car. I ask if their ears have been burning - we've just been talking about you! Really!

They were driving the other way over the Sierras to spend the day at Tahoe, and had made a quick restroom stop. It was freezing cold out - not really a place you'd want to hang around any longer that it took to get in, get out, and get on your way. Now, really, what are the odds that we'd run into anyone we knew in that particular parking lot at that particular time? Each of us headed in opposite directions. And then, have it be a couple we hadn't seen in years, but had just been thinking and talking about? Can you believe it?

Electronic Media Time-out

Alrighty then - time to get back into the blogging rhythm, I guess. I had a nice visit with my sister in the Bay Area. This is one of my favorite sights I pass on my way over the Sierras. There are a couple of statues of big horn sheep flanking a driveway, and then they've added another statue of a mountain lion. But since it's not in the same scale, to me it looks like the sheep are being stalked by a house cat. I smile every time I drive by.

Sweet husband gave me a gift card to Borders book store for Christmas. I got myself some new music (George Harrison's All Things Must Pass), and a box set of Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse paperbacks. We had free HBO for a while last fall, and I got hooked watching True Blood, a series based on the books. So I spent last week devouring all seven books, one right after another (I can get a bit obsessive when I get the chance to read), doing a bit of electronic media detox in the process (best if I do that every once in a while). But now, refreshed, I'm back on the computer and back online. I'll be in touch!

My Favorite Version of White Christmas

I just love this version of White Christmas, by The Drifters, with animation by Joshua Held. I hope you will too.

100 Random Things About Me

When I logged in to my blogging Dashboard, I saw that the Zucchini Muffins post made one hundred posts. So, as I've seen other bloggers do to honor the occasion, I've done this post. Enjoy, or ignore, your choice:

1. My first "real" job was working for Burger King
2. I've sold dictionaries door-to-door – I was one of the company's top 100 salespeople that summer and made enough, working straight commission, to pay for my next 9 months of school
3. I've lived in Colorado, Michigan (1 summer), Iowa (1 summer) and Nevada
4. I'm the oldest of five – two brothers, two sisters
5. I love to travel – anywhere, any time, even just going for a drive
6. I’ve climbed Mt Kilimanjaro, as my 50th birthday present to myself
7. I've hiked the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu
8. My first time in an airplane was flying from Los Angeles to Hawaii, when I was nine years old. Looking down, at blue and clouds, I thought we were so high up it was like looking up towards the sky – until we went over a ship and I realized the blue was water
9. I can read music, both bass and treble clef - I took accordion lessons when I was eight years old
10. I still have two accordions, and I still play (not in public – only for my own amusement)
11. I can also play the harmonica – just straight notes – but wish I could bend notes and play the blues
12. I earned my B.S. degree, in Human Ecology, on the 25-year plan – pulling together the credits from four different institutions of higher education
13. I lived above 10,000 feet for 10 years – I feel better at high altitudes
14. I donate blood – more than six gallons, a pint at a time, to date
15. My maternal grandmother taught me to embroider
16. My mom taught me to sew
17. My first college roommate taught me to crochet
18. I taught myself to knit (still working on that)
19. I'm a certified open-water scuba diver
20. My favorite author is Robert Heinlein – ever since reading "Have Spacesuit, Will Travel" as a fifth grader
21. Kim Basinger is my "famous birthday twin"
22. I got my motorcycle license when I was 19
23. I've owned motorcycles since I was 21
24. I have a scar on my left knee, from the four stitches needed when I dropped my first bike – I picked the bike up, got it home, and then drove myself to the hospital
25. I don't care for liver, lamb, or lima beans
26. I've eaten guinea pig in Peru – looks like road-kill, tastes like chicken dark meat
27. And tried the goat in a Masaii warrior camp in Africa (didn't like that at all – I spit it out without swallowing. I liked the shredded goat in barbecue sauce - at least, I think it was goat - at a Filipino party)
28. I love hot springs – my favorite is the Tabacon Resort in Costa Rica: an entire hot river, flowing from the base of an active volcano, diverted into various pools and waterfalls, with beautiful paths winding through the jungle landscaping
29. I'm nearsighted – I remember getting glasses in fifth grade and how amazing it was when I could see individual leaves on the trees
30. I now wear mono-vision contacts – my left lens is for distance, my right lens is for reading
31. I won a Gold Key in the national Scholastic Art Contest in high school for a pencil drawing
32. I've worked as a free-lance sign painter, doing free-hand lettering before they came out with the computer graphics design programs – my specialty was writing backwards on the inside of glass windows
33. I used to work as a construction laborer – working both highway and high-rise jobs
34. I was a certified Traffic Control Supervisor for Colorado state highway jobs
35. I have no fear of heights (but have no desire to jump from them, either – I'll probably never skydive or bungee jump. I’m more the "stand at the edge, lean over, and spit" type)
36. I think of my gardening and landscaping as the slowest art form
37. My favorite color is dark hunter green
38. I'm missing four premolar teeth (one each side, top and bottom, just behind the canine teeth) - pulled as a teenager before getting braces. I used to think someone in the future would someday find my skull and think I was some kind of missing link
39. Novocain works on me, but slowly. I hated the dentist that pulled the above teeth because I wasn’t numb when he pulled them. He just put sunglasses and headphones on me, told me to hold onto the arms of the chair, and pulled the teeth anyway (I threatened to bite him if my mom ever took me back there – she didn't). I got numb later, at home. I've finally figured out that if I need dental work, to go in and get the shots, then wait at least another hour
40. I wrecked my first car on an icy winter road when I slid sideways over a fifty-foot cliff. The car rolled and was totaled – I got a bruise on my right thigh from the steering wheel. They had to lower a rope so I could climb back up through the waist-deep snow
41. I have photos of me with every car I've owned, when the odometer turned over back to zero
42. My favorite artists are Maxfield Parrish and M.C. Escher
43. I prefer to sit cross-legged with my feet up under me, and will often kick off my shoes and do so whenever I can manage it (I do try to act "normal" in restaurants and during job interviews though)
44. Visual spatial relationships come easy to me (examples: I'm really good at packing all the camping gear into my compact car's trunk, or putting together a pleasing layout for a newsletter)
45. I hate any percentage of polyester in sheets – it makes them feel like plastic. Only 100% cotton for me
46. I won't drink diet soft drinks – I can't stand the metallic aftertaste of artificial sweeteners
47. I like the taste of club soda
48. My favorite television show is Doctor Who (ever since the Tom Baker days, which we could only see occasionally on our PBS station)
49. If I ever get a personalized license plate, I want it to say TARDIS
50. My favorite rock band is Queen. Freddy Mercury had such an amazing voice. I never saw them live
51. The first live rock concert I saw was the Moody Blues, when I had just turned 16
52. I learned to drive in a car with a standard transmission
53. I still prefer manually going through the gears when driving – all our current vehicles have standard transmissions
54. I've never owned a cell phone
55. I love my IPod – it’s completely filled with my favorite rock albums. I set it on shuffle while out walking with the dog
56. I've always had "mobile music" devices, with earplugs - starting with a transistor radio, then a little portable cassette player, CD players, and now the IPod
57. Cross-country skiing is great with music – I had never really gotten into the right rhythm until I started skiing with my earphones on
58. I don't wear music downhill skiing
59. I learned to ski downhill when I was 15, and still get out a couple of times each year (although I now find it harder to get up if I fall)
60. I used to work in a restaurant at the top of a ski run. My commute included riding the lift up in the morning, then skiing down a 1½ mile intermediate run after work each day. I'd do it without thinking, easy – just like other people would ride an escalator
61. I was a "ski bum" for years. For one of my annual passes, I talked them into letting me get my picture taken wearing big black Groucho nose-n-mustache glasses. A lot of the lift checkers never even noticed, but when they did, they loved it
62. I love animals
63. I have, however, been bitten hard enough to draw blood by a rabbit, a hamster, a pony, and two dogs (the hamster died the next day – mom took the dead hamster to the vet to make sure it didn’t have rabies or distemper – just crotchety old age, I guess)
64. I also got a two-inch "hickey" on my arm, playing with a 5' stingray while diving near Stingray City in the Cayman Islands
65. I've petted, swum with, and dove with wild dolphins. Though they look like fish, I find it interesting that they're warm to the touch and when they make that eek-eek-eek noise it comes from their blowhole, not their mouth
66. I've stroked a wild moray eel, half-out of its cave while the dive master was holding some food for it just out of reach. They feel soft, like firm jello, and a bit slimy. That was in Bora Bora, French Polynesia, and the dive master would only speak French to me (I don’t speak French) but it wasn’t an issue once we were under water
67. Long as we’re talking sea creatures, I’ve also carried a 4' reef shark around, cradled under my arm, while snorkeling. The dive master had made a pet of it – it would come up, swim up under your arm and just lie there, along for the ride
68. If I ever get the chance, I want to ride a camel and an elephant
69. I'm fascinated by the ruins of ancient civilizations – I think initially sparked by reading an article, as a child, in National Geographic about excavating Pompeii
70. Egypt, Italy and Greece are high on my list of places I want to visit (and New Zealand)
71. I'm right-handed, but prefer using a computer mouse with my left hand
72. I played fast-pitch softball for 10 years as a child, usually at shortstop
73. As a waitress, I've waited on a few famous people: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Chuck Norris, Red Skelton, Mary Tyler Moore, Randy Quaid, and Sally Fields come to mind
74. Jack Nicholson once came over to our table in a Mexican restaurant in Leadville Colorado, drunk as a skunk, and sat down to tell us all about the rafting trip he'd taken that day – another round of margaritas, please
75. I speak Spanish well-enough to be able to function by myself in a Spanish-speaking country
76. Working with numbers – math, budgets, accounting, bookkeeping – comes easy for me
77. I would rather read than watch television
78. I read the newspaper regularly, and like to read any English ones I can find when I’m in a foreign country
79. My mom read to me so much when I was a toddler that I memorized my favorite books. I'd sit and recite them, turning the pages at the right place and people thought I was reading as a three-year old. I wasn't – I learned to read in first grade, along with everybody else
80. My birthday is in December. My parents had the option for me to start Kindergarten early and be one of the youngest in the class or wait another year. They waited, so I'd only be two grades ahead of my sister. As a result, I was a head taller than most of my schoolmates all through elementary school
81. School was always easy for me – so easy that I'd finish the assignment, then turn around and talk to the other kids. So I was usually seated up front, next to the teacher's desk, to keep me from bothering the other children while they were still trying to do their work. I think this is why no one noticed I needed glasses until fifth grade
82. My early elementary schooling was in combination classes - first & second for first grade; second & third for second grade. When I finished my assignment, I'd do the other grade's too. I was always being given "extra credit" assignments to do by myself. I loved it, especially when it was something to read
83. I like dark chocolate, especially Dove dark chocolate
84. I dip my grilled cheese sandwiches in ketchup
85. I've never colored my hair
86. I prefer my toilet paper to roll off the top, away from the wall
87. I keep the toilet lid closed. This habit started when my Afghan hound used to drink from the toilet, dunking his long ears in the process, and then dripping them across the seat
88. My Afghan hound's name was Omar. He was a pound hound I raised from a half-grown puppy. He’s been gone 10 years now. I held him when I had to have him put to sleep, then went out to my car, sat there, and cried. It was a hard thing to do, but I felt it was also the right way to do it
89. I dread the thought that I might someday have to make that type of decision about a person
90. I have long straight hair, and I’ll play with it and twist it when I'm bored or thinking about something
91. I don't wear rings – not even a wedding ring (if my now-husband wanted to spend a lot of money on me, I asked that he buy me a motorcycle instead. He did. He doesn't wear a ring either)
92. I rarely wear necklaces either
93. I do wear earrings. I have one hole pierced in each ear. If dear husband wants to give me jewelry, he buys real gemstone earrings (he’s been well-trained)
94. He says I proposed to him. After we'd been dating for over a year, I was out in my garden working and he came over to visit. I said something like, "Where do you see our relationship going – are we getting married, or what?" He said, "Ok. When?" I just stood there open-mouthed, looking at him. "Well,” he repeated, “When?" "How about October, after I’ve harvested the garden," I finally said. "I don’t want to move until then."
95. We eloped. I didn't want to deal with all my relatives showing up. We were married by the Justice of the Peace outside the courthouse in Virginia City, Nevada (that courthouse is one of the few where the statue of Justice does not wear a blindfold), with my sister and my roommate at the time standing up for us
96. The Justice of the Peace was on vacation on the date we originally picked. We already had our work vacation time arranged for our honeymoon, so we went on our honeymoon and then got married when we got back a week later
97. My honeymoon was a camping trip – through Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks, over to the Pacific at Morro Bay, and up through Big Sur
98. We agreed before we were married that neither of us wanted children
99. I don't really like babies much. I like other people's children after they're potty-trained and can talk
100. I love my life – I wouldn't change a thing!

Bloggy Bling

Sorry - I know I've been a bit missing-in-action here lately. I had family visiting, presentations and events leading up to the Primary Election (I lost), a husband on vacation for two weeks (including a week spent camping at Tahoe), and my harvest season is here. I'll catch you up on all that shortly. But first, look what I got:

Texas Poppet, "a suburban homemaker struggling to make peace with the globe trotting action hero living inside", sends me a virtual hug. She says my gorgeous pictures of livestock, garden and home always leave her smiling. Thank you! Her blog is a perfect mix of information, humor, and bloggy neighborliness. Go check her out at Canned Laughter - preserving peaches and domestic bliss.

And now, I get to pass this bloggy love around. I'm to choose five blogs that "make my day". Hope you'll check out the following (in no particular order):

I've been reading Lorisdoris' posts since she started her imaginary blog (since she was always imagining what she'd write, she started an actual blog). She's now reorganized it into a beautiful site over at Frugal Domesticity. Recipes, knitting, simple living - just like Grandma used to do.

So often, women seem to be the driving force behind their family's efforts at sustainable living. It's a refreshing change to see a man posting about living lightly on the land. James, at Simple Living in a Complex Society, writes about his delight at learning to can, provides recipes, and some wonderful tips on the frugal life.

I love the creativity over at Wardrobe Refashion. For some great ideas on refashioning or sewing your own clothing, check out these reader-generated posts. Maybe you'll even be inspired to take the pledge.

So sorry, but the fourth blog no longer makes my day.

When I want some food for thought, or just a different way of looking at things, FoodShed Planet always seems to have something to chew on. I hope my readers agree, and that the above bloggers continue to pass this on. Cheers!

A Universal Language

I dare you to not smile watching this:



Even better, go to YouTube and click the "Watch in High Quality" option

I first saw this on Molly's blog, and loved it so much I wanted to share it too. Enjoy!

A Little Bit of All Kinds of Stuff

Lots of little bits and pieces to talk about - where do I start? The smoke here is worse than ever. This morning I could barely see across the highway, two short blocks below us. That's Boris, our German Shorthair/pound hound, looking so regal lying there in the dirt. I had to do some laundry this morning, and used the electric dryer instead of hanging things out. I didn't want my clean clothes reeking of smoke. It's so thick it hurts my eyes to even be out in it.

The fires in California were all caused by lightning, but it's got everybody worried because we usually don't get the dry thunderstorm weather coming through here until late July or August. If the fire season is starting this early, it's going to cost a lot more tax dollars to fight the fires and, coming off a dry winter, lots more property could burn. Also, this week is the one-year anniversary of the big South Lake Tahoe fire that burned over 250 houses, so that brings up some bad memories. That fire last year was started by a teens' party campfire left unattended. Four years ago, a disastrous fire here in Carson City started the same way. The fire burned for four days, and over 50 houses were destroyed.

That fire burned towards our house the first day, but they stopped it on the ridge just to the north of us. We had fire trucks on both corners of our lot, and could see the line of fire fighters silhouetted all along the ridge. We were under a "be ready to evacuate" order then, so had the cat in the carrier, the dog inside on his leash, and the sleeping bags, some clothing, a few mementos and computer backup discs ready to go. The chickens we'd have to leave to fend for themselves, and in the past when we had horses we had to walk them down the street out of danger. That time, I was also packing to leave for my Africa trip the next morning, so I had all my things just thrown into garbage bags and I figured I'd finish packing in the evacuation center if necessary. It's scary. Do you have a list of what you'd take if you were in that situation?

But the fires aren't anywhere near us at present - just the smoke. I have to admit - it makes a nice filtered light for photos. So, let's move on to some other items: I love watching how our animals interact. The new chicks are doing fine in the coop with the rest of the flock. We had a little bantam rooster in the pen with the babies as they were growing up, and he's now taken charge of watching out for them. Yesterday evening, when I went out to shut up the coop (predator protection measure), a couple of the little Reds were still outside. I was just puttering around in the garden waiting for them to go in when I heard one of them squawking. I went over to see what was the matter, and that little rooster had come back out and was pulling the feathers on one's back. It was time to go in and he was telling her to quit messing around. As soon as he let go, she hopped through the door, with him right behind her, and I could close them all in for the night.

Mrs. Guinea wasn't in the coop last night, so she must have a nest somewhere now too. Male guineas don't stay with their mate by the nest during the night, so Grey was back in the coop as usual. But this morning, very early, Missus woke me up (guineas are very loud) calling for Grey. Of course, he was shut up inside the coop, so I had to get up and go open it up so he could fly out and join her, and then she was quiet. What's interesting to me is that tonight, when I went to shut up the coop, Grey wasn't inside. He was perched up on the gateframe of the pen, right next to the coop. Missus wasn't there again. He looked a bit uneasy, like I might try to chase him off the gate, but I told him he was fine. He's figured out she's not inside, and he can't get out until one of us opens up the coop, so he wanted to spend the night outside the coop. His reasoning ability amazes me.

I'm off to the San Francisco Bay Area tomorrow. My sister and I are going to see Allison Krause and Robert Plant in concert at the Greek Theater on the University of California at Berkeley campus. We both love live music, so this is quality time together for us. It will be a quick trip, because I have to be back up at the Lake Saturday afternoon for a training session for volunteers working the Shakespeare Festival at Sand Harbor this summer (how to do things for free, again).

Just a Born Lunatic Here

I love watching the night sky. In the dark of the moon, I love seeing the stars, but full moon nights can be so glorious (I even check the phase of the moon when booking vacation and camping reservations). To the east of us across the valley, Prison Hill runs north and south for more than a mile. The various ridgeline bumps and saddles, as seen from my house, are good references for seeing the difference in where the full moon rises throughout the year. The full moon just past rose surprisingly waaaaaaay to the south. It wasn't over any part of Prison Hill at all - it was so far to the south southeast that it rose over a low spot on the distant Pine Nut Mountains.

Years ago, when I first noticed a full moon rising way over the northeast end of the Hill, my first thought was akin to Chicken Little's - "oh no, our earth's axis is wobbling, we're all gonna die!" How terra-centric of me. I've since learned that it's the moon's orbit that varies over time - kinda like a spot on the edge of a plastic plate, dropped face-down, would wobble and tilt about before finally landing flat. That wobbling, tilting effect, above and below the plane of our equator, is what the moon's orbit does over an 18+ year cycle.

Then too, there are the seasonal variations. The full moon is always completely opposite the sun in the heavens; the new moon closely follows the sun's path. Since it's now summer in the northern hemisphere, the path of the sun is high in the sky with respect to our horizon and along with it, the new moon. In contrast then, the full moon runs low this time of year (and how convenient that in the winter the full moon runs high, providing more light during the longest nights). It's rising even more to the south than usual right now (here in the U.S. anyway - did it rise at all in northern Europe or Canada?). Quick, go look.

Art, Music, and Culture - Free

Sorry I've been a bit MIA here lately - I took for a few days to visit my sister in the San Francisco Bay Area. It's always so nice to see her and her family there, and I love any chance I can get to just go somewhere, anywhere. But I had another reason for going down there this past weekend. We volunteer-ushered a concert Saturday night.

For us, both being big music fans, it's quality time together doing something we both enjoy. I know the bands we heard probably aren't even on the radar of my readers, but I wanted to mention this because it's the best way I know of to get to see and do cultural events, for free! We like live rock music, so we've found the venues that use volunteers for rock concerts, but this idea can work for just about any cultural event, or for museums, in your town too. Volunteering time instead of spending money is a very viable and affordable option to get out and about. Concert volunteers are usually "cut" early in the evening, so then they can just join the crowd and enjoy the rest of the event. Plus, once you get on the list for an organization, you'll also get invited to the year-end thank-you parties, or maybe get free tickets for another show.

As for our concert this weekend, it was the Progressive Nation Tour - with four bands: Three, Between the Buried and Me, Opeth, and Dream Theater (see, you probably never heard of them). The first three bands were a bit too "metal" for me, but I really liked Dream Theater. And I really love working this venue. The Paramount Theater in Oakland, California is a restored Art Deco Depression-era movie theater - a splendid example of ornate, rococo, gaudy, let's-go-nuts-in-public decorative art, fully and lovingly restored and ornamental as all get-out. In order to work there, volunteers have to go through the tour. It was amazing hearing about how the enormous decorative panels forming the theater walls and the proscenium arch were made and then erected, about the pipe organ still in place, the tunnels and crawl spaces above and below, the myriad little decorative touches everywhere - even the restrooms are amazing! When I don't care for the artists performing, I love spending my time just walking around the place, and I really love the interaction with all the people. Figure out what you'd like to see or do, start asking questions - get yourself on the upcoming events list for the places you'd like to spend some time (instead of money) - and ask who to talk to about volunteering.

Blogging - New Window or Back Button?

It looks like I'm starting to garner some readers here at Firesign Farm, and I like looking back at the blogs from people that comment or refer others here. There are a lot of really great efforts out there in what I think of as the conscientious consumer lifestyle. But I hate it when I find an interesting site with a link to something else interesting, and when I follow it I lose the original site. So I thought I'd tell everyone how to make a link (or a picture) on your site open up in a new window. Eventually, your reader can close everything else and be back to your site, which is what they really wanted to see in the first place.

I use Blogger, but I'm assuming most other blogging software sites have a similar set-up. When making your post, you can use either a "compose" wysiwyg (whizz-ee-wig: it means What You See Is What You Get) area, or see (and do) the same thing in an "edit Html" area, depending on which tab you choose. To make your link or photo open in a new window, we're just going to add a little bit of typing on the "Html" side.

After you've gotten your link or photo inserted, choose the Html tab. Find what you just added, including the website .com or photo .jpg with lots more stuff inside pointy little brackets. Put your cursor right after the .com or .jpg then type a space and then the following: target="_blank" just like that, all together, no spaces, using the quotes, equals and underscore keys. Then you can go back to finishing your post, and when you publish it, people won't be led away from your site if they want a closer look at a photo or want to see what you're referencing.

Added later: Maybe I'm in the minority here. After posting, I've been doing a bit of researching about this, and seeing where lots of people don't like having a post open in a new window automatically - preferring instead to right-click do-it-themselves. Should I stop having links open in new windows (high-jacking someone else's browser is the way a few people put it), and just let people use the "back" button? What do you think?

Live Music (It Ain't Canned)

I went to a concert last night. Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks played at the Piper's Opera House in Virginia City. Aries wouldn't go with me - he can't stand that band. Admittedly, Dan Hicks' music is somewhat eccentric, and definitely an acquired taste. He has a dead-pan stage persona and dry sense of humor, and his music is a strange mix of swing, folk, jazz and country. I've been a fan since the early 1970's. I had a wonderful time - for me, great music in a great venue.

Most people know Virginia City as the little dot in the middle of the burning map that opened the old Bonanza television show (in all of my travels, even when I don't speak the language I can always get across the general area of where I live by humming that theme song). Samuel Clemens began his writing career in Virginia City, but didn't use the pen name Mark Twain until later. Nevada became a state in 1864, without enough people to qualify for statehood, because President Lincoln needed the resources provided by the silver mines of the Comstock Lode to finance the costs of the Civil War (state nicknames: Battle Born state, the Silver State). Money made in Virginia City in the 1860's built San Francisco. Today, it's the largest federally designated Historical District in the U.S. and is maintained in its original condition. "C" Street, the main business street, is lined with 1860's and 1870's buildings housing specialty shops of all kinds.

Piper's Opera House, built in 1885, is actually the third Piper's built in Virginia City - the first two having burned to the ground. It has been undergoing restoration for years now and, while not finished, is finally in shape enough to begin hosting events once again. Maximum capacity 360 people, says the sign at the door. The wooden auditorium floor is built on ore cart springs, adding a bit of a bounce said to be exceptionally nice for dances. The stage is raked, rising 4 feet from the front edge to the back, so as to provide a better view of the action. For this performance, wooden chairs had been set up in rows with a center aisle.

Dan Hicks, songwriter and lead singer, also plays rhythm guitar. The Lickettes, two women, provide harmony voices and hand percussion instruments. The three Lickmen play lead guitar, a stand-up bass, and violin/mandolin. It was a bit of a homecoming for Dan. He got his start as the drummer for the house band at the Red Dog Saloon in V.C. in 1965. The light shows and hallucinogen-fueled dances held at the Red Dog were the direct inspiration for the legendary psychedelic San Francisco scene that blossomed shortly thereafter.

In such a small venue, there wasn't a bad seat in the house. But, being by myself, lucky me, I found a single seat in the front row. What a great time!

"Canned music, canned music, playing on the radio
Canned music, canned music, without a dime it doesn't go
Favorites on the jukebox are only half the show
When it's canned music, canned music" --Dan Hicks

A Visitor, A Comment!

I'm jumping up and down excited! I got a comment from Rhonda Jean - she stopped by and read my blog! Rhonda Jean is my blogging inspiration - what my blog can only aspire to. Where my new little blog has labels in the single digits, her's are in the hundreds. Her blog, Down to Earth, is the epitome of living simply and gently upon this earth. Every post has a nugget of truth, a morsel of knowledge, that I can take away and chew on the rest of the day. Plus, I'm learning to speak Australian - chooks (chickens) and silverbeet (Swiss chard) and an introduction to all kinds of strange plants.

Originally led there looking for information on using high-gluten flour, and later when looking for saurkraut-making instructions, I was fascinated by her gentle thoughts and wonderful ideas. I bookmarked the site and became a regular lurker. I loved the pictures she posted from her readers' apron swap - great colors and ideas! It's now one of my regular stops on the Internet. And now she's been my guest - if only in cyberspace!

Right Brain/Left Brain

Some interesting items regarding right brain/left brain seem to be going 'round the Internet lately. I seem to be able to integrate both sides fairly well. In business matters, I'm good with numbers and budgets (left) but also do better than most at coming up with out-of-the-box creative marketing ideas (right). I'm right-handed, but left-eye dominant. I easily compile the list of supplies for a seven-day camping trip, and then just as easily can visualize how to get it all to fit in the trunk of a compact car. This site debunks the two most common illusions that seem to be ending up in my inbox on a regular basis, but I did find them fun to try. The spinning girl I can make weave back and forth like a snake charmer, and the head in the beans was a snap to find.

But the most fascinating and thought-provoking link I've been sent lately, from my sister, is this one. A brain scientist talks about her thoughts and feelings while she was actually experiencing a stroke on the left side - the analytical, language-assessing, self-awareness, "me" side - of her brain. Eventually, she is left with with only the right side - the emotional, primal, interconnected-consciousness, "zen" side - functioning. This 20-minute video certainly brings up some very interesting things for me to think about. Can I learn isolate the right side of my brain at will?

Watching the Night Sky

We stood out on the deck and watched the International Space Station pass over Carson City (start here to see when it's over your town). It looked like a fast-moving star, going straight over our zenith from southwest to northeast in less than four minutes. It's hard to imagine how fast it must be moving. I'd love to be up there, looking back down as the Earth slid past beneath me. I remember, as a child, standing out in my backyard and my folks pointing out the satellite Echo in the night sky back in the 1960's. I'm still just as awed and fascinated that mankind can do something like that as I was then.

I'm sad that we've lost a lot of our view of the stars due to the increased development and all their accompanying lights around our house. We used to be able to see the Milky Way, but now are lucky to see only the major stars in the constellations from our backyard. A good thing about the increase in population is that our local community college was able to raise the resources and build a world-class observatory in town. I've been able to see the moons of Jupiter and Mars, and the rings of Saturn, during their free telescope viewings Saturday nights. I hope having it in town will encourage more "dark-sky" building practices as more developers come to town.

I love the night sky. I actually don't mind if I have to get up in the middle of the night when I'm out camping to make a trek to the restroom, because I know I'll end up standing in the middle of the path staring up at the sky. One of my favorite memories of Peru was looking at the southern night sky. I could vividly see the long curving tail of the Scorpion that usually gets lost in the light haze near our horizon. On the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, the Milky Way is so bright I could see how the Incas saw patterns and named the dark spaces between the "milk" the same way we name constellations. While there, it was such a thrill when I recognized a familiar grouping so far from home - the Big Dipper (or Great Bear) that circles round the North Star - shining there, right above the horizon. Like a sailor just finding my bearings, suddenly all was right in my world.