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neebee

Social climber
calif/texas
Mar 31, 2015 - 02:22pm PT
hey there say, zbrown... thanks for the ' the last cowboy song' post...

:)
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Apr 1, 2015 - 06:25am PT
The way to do a cowboy song
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Apr 1, 2015 - 06:41am PT
AND For many years I had A boot-leg tape from a '73 show it was a show from a tour to sell an album, . . . .
``
This is all in way of a prAyer to the spirit, The Songstress. Her lyrics are seared into my hart,. I hope she gets well soon.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Apr 1, 2015 - 05:54pm PT
Gnome--

Of the melting snow around me

There was a sainted hermit from the Limousin in France, whose name was Junian and he was of the nobility.

He was a pious lad and walked a very long way to study under ST. Amand, but he arrived late one night and it was thought best not to let him in by the saint, because he did not know this boy, and feared it might be a robber's trick.

Junian spent the night curled up outside in the sage's garden wrapped in his traveling cloak. It began to snow, but God kindly made sure that the snow did not fall on him.

So he had a good night's sleep and the next day the misunderstanding was cleared up.

Winter glass.
Winter glass.
Credit: mouse from merced



Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Apr 1, 2015 - 05:56pm PT
Lets talk dirty in
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
&


Raw , no 'shop work
Both of these are far from any good but oh so close?
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Apr 1, 2015 - 08:27pm PT
Far from any good?

You value your values too much.

go with the crow

Beethoven did.
Who knows how to spell CT?  Anyone...
Who knows how to spell CT? Anyone...
Credit: GI
And he was deaf as well as a terrible speller.
Beethoven wrote it in 1811 to accompany a play (by August von Kotzebue).
Credit: mouse from merced
Credit: mouse from merced
feralfae

Boulder climber
in the midst of a metaphysical mystery
Apr 2, 2015 - 06:13am PT
Great images and music! Thank you!

MFM, thank you for the info. I am reassured. :) And the story of sleeping in the snow warmed my spirit.

Which is good, because it's chilly out there this morning, and my studio is very chilly, since I forgot to leave the heat on and it was below freezing last night. I have turned on the heat again. Winter is still with us.

But I love the beautiful new snow on the ground. I think there are a couple of inches, white and cold, decorating the ponderosa pines with white accents on the dark green needles, softening the contours of the stones of my medicine wheel, and dusting the fruit trees into dark etchings against a white canvas of snow. There are no birds singing this morning. I am sure they are all hunkered down, in their down, against the cold. Time to go fill their feeders. There were twenty-three pygmy nuthatches mobbing the sunflower feeder yesterday, and several downy and hairy woodpeckers chipping away at the suet. This morning, so far, it is very quiet.

feralfae
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Apr 2, 2015 - 06:44am PT
Janis for ya.


I promised a TR based on my "haitus" from the Talko, but it's edited down some to a long dairy page.

"Ca phe hoa tan" or weasel coffee.
"Ca phe hoa tan" or weasel coffee.
Credit: mouse from merced
I've got coffee goin' and hope you have a good goddam mornin'. First I gotta go milk the weasels...takes a few minutes.

Have some more Janis, why dontcha?


A Tale of Tree Cities.
A Tale of Tree Cities.
Credit: mouse from merced
Dairy entry for 3/24/15.

Iím all alone and itís dark.
My internet connection is off for a week or so,
for non-payment of last monthís obscene bill.
This is like having a vacation and




Iím isolated, in a wilderness or a city,




but I am whatever or wherever I want to be,
because Iím imagining it all...imagine that.

And youíre welcome to join me:
you wonít have to cook, carry, or fetchó
I sure donít expect to have to do that mundane scene.

I donít like the idea that Iím talking only to myself:
but by having a silent partner like you
I canít help but take responsibility for us both
because Iím only imagining you accompanying me;
any comments or difficulties you may have
can be settled by simply talking to my hand.
(Whatever that means, itís a proven tagline
and Arnold can sue me if he disapproves of my use.)

Wherever weíre bound, rest assured that
Iíll be taking many-many pictures:
I have the time;
and it helps pass the time--
photography is a great hobby.
Iíve learned to drag along my camera and my tripod
when I head most anywhere, real or imaginedó
hell, Iíd take them to church, did I attend.

Sometimes I awaken and think that Iím on the computer:
Iíll start clicking through pictures and editing them
and then it comes to me that they are not saving themselves--
Iím not really experiencing what I thought.

Is this a dangerous practice?

So far Iíve not suffered is all I can say:
you are in no danger, trust me--
itís just a trick of my subconscious mind,
cheap manipulation of visual imagined images,
which may or may not be ďart,Ē
but it is what it is and who are we to judge the indefinable?

Iím just the guide, not your Dada:
If t here is danger, be advised, if you are not already,
That Iím ďnot rich,Ē which may be the same as ďpoor,Ē
--yet another judgment of a subjective nature--
so if you want to sue,
should there be injury or fault,
be my guest--which you are anyway--
but donít be a prick about it
because you wonít get one red cent no matter what.

This morning I went to visit the vampire lady
at the VA Clinic and she drew some blood:
there is an ďartĒ to phlebotomy,
and she has my veins mapped like the USGS.
Her name is Marcie, a sweetheart.

And then the doctor saw me,
and I saw him,
and we talked about my health,
the upcoming surgery to close my hernia
(which he decided to postpone),
and motorcycles.

Wonít go into that but to say it was the first negative of the day
finding that I need to wait even longer for the knife.
The second negative (yes, these are intended puns on photography)
was that by the time I got home my knees hurt really bad.

But I took two pain relief tabs and felt much better:
I also decided that the hernia is not really all that terrible--
the pain is slight and intermittent (though Iíd like to be more active)
and so I just need to be patient about becoming an outpatient.

Windy weather today here out of the north but not cold.
I rode the bus out to the clinic:
the senior fare is six bits, a deal, a steal, but still not a free ride;
and I hauled along the bike for the return trip.

While on the bus I met an 84-year old gent who is a retired farm worker.
He had a lot to sayóheís a navy vet, worked in the fields his whole life,
knew Cesar C, was a member of the UFW, but quit when they burned the fields.
He reminded me of someone...canít really pin it down.

RAY, aka CS.  Eighty-some and happy to be here.
RAY, aka CS. Eighty-some and happy to be here.
Credit: mouse from merced
He said his name was RA Young:
he said to call him RAY
and he loved canning chilies and PICKLES
just as much as like I obviously loved to make photographs;
and thatís weird because my doctor, Dr. Paul Love,
LOVES MOTORSICKLES
and photos of them, too.

Really, thatís the truth:
Doc has one very good photo in his examining room,
of a motorcycle racer, and itís a good one. Itís alone on one blank wall.
Outside in the halls are scenic shots which Iíve shown before--
the ďBronson BridgeĒ on Highway One a ways south of Carmel is one.

I asked him if he was a motorcyclist because a doctor in Fresno at the VA Hospital
told me that Doc Love would much rather talk about motorcycles than oneís health issues.

I put that put-down of Paul to the test: the Fresno physician
had been awfully close to the mark.

Doc revealed that the photograph that I admired was of himself leaning into the turn.

I felt like a snitch, prodding him like that, but also like a fisherman:
So I threw out some more bait, gettiní all ďchummy,Ē
and I told him that my wife Liz
had been the local Modified Motorcycle Associationís chapter manager for years.

And so then he began telling me of his history with bikes:
He used to ride in races and he still rides to work on occasion,
but he has been in three or four wrecks on the track.
The last time he really messed up a finger
so heís no longer racing.

Helmet laws came up: Deaths from motorcycle accidents, he related,
have dropped (like one-third!) since the law came into effect in the early nineties.
It was a very unpopular idea among the MMA and other rough-and-ready clubs.

But as Doc says: Only idiots donít wear helmets.

Interjecting a story the Rev laid on me on Monday, March 30, day after his birthday, here,
about his sister Julie.
Not too long ago she was riding in a pack on her racing bike in Livermore Valley
(sheís no idiotóshe was wearing her brain-bucket)
when some anomaly in the pavement caused her to fly up and over the handlebars,
landing her on her helmet.
ďOuch,Ē you say?
Her pretty face is now much like Jaybroís was,
but with two black eyes.
She also broke BOTH arms.
And all you can say is, ďOuch?Ē
She canít wipe her ass, has to sit in chairs where itís easy to stand up with no hands,
and is likewise limited in many other ways,
dependent on the help she can get.
She canít feed herself, type on the internet (AWFUL!), or use a pencil.

Moral of the story: BIKE RIDING IS DANGEROUS!
HELMETS SAVE LIVES!

But you knew that...

I asked Doc Love, did he know Skip Johnson? and Doc said yeah.

So then I asked did he know CO Williams? and Doc said heíd met him
but had not raced himóthey rode different classes of bikes in racing.

CO and I were neighbors growing up.
Skip is a mutual friend of CO and myself.
Both of them own several bikes of different types and vintage.
But this is the kicker:
both of them know Throwpie and PeggyLeggy.

Then Doc got down to work on his computer for ten minutes:
He ordered me a Rx for Lasix, saying that heíd rather see me get more labs
after Iíd been on it a while
(to be on the safe side but he didnít say that)
and to come see him in a month.

Meanwhile, I have to get an EKG and am supposed to go to Fresno to do that,
and I will have to go back to see the same doctor there as I did last week one more time,
but I think Iíll combine the two, but thatís not to be decided yet.
All I know is that I wonít have to go to Fresno again this month.

An update as of March 30: I have one appointment with Doc Love on April 20
and one in Fresno on April 28 for the EKG.
If all is ďwell,Ē Iíll have surgery scheduled shortly following that.

Back to the ride home from the VA Clinic in Merced:
I stopped at Merced High on G St. and took a few pics of trees and a crow in the wind.
The ubiquitous Tommy T. came wheeling up behind me.
Not so strange running into him like that as he shows up everyplace
and knows everyone, including RAY, who he says is really ďCS.Ē
ďSi, yes?Ē
ďThatís what I said, you joker.Ē
A brief bit more of chit-chat and he went on his way.
Did I say it was windy?  Ask this crow about it!
Did I say it was windy? Ask this crow about it!
Credit: mouse from merced

I then headed down G Street, where I stopped to look
at the underside of the G St. Bridge on Bear Creek,
or what there is left of Bear Creek due to the drought.
Itís dry as a bone but for a ďpondleĒ just above it:
A pondle being bigger than a puddle but smaller than a pond--
were it an alpine setting, it might be termed a ďtinitarn.Ē
Downstream from the bridge is a larger stretch of shallow water.
There was a lone egret in it.
I had lots of shots of it but all were out of focus but one.
It may not have been an egret, but it was white and had long legs.
Probably not an egret?  Definitely not a cloud, but it's white.
Probably not an egret? Definitely not a cloud, but it's white.
Credit: mouse from merced

I set up the tripod and made a couple of photos of the creek:
There was just one guy sitting next to his bicycle reading a paperback and eating a bag lunch.
A pair of riders came riding by on bikes on the bike path leading under the bridge.
View upstream past the "pondle."
View upstream past the "pondle."
Credit: mouse from merced
Looking downstream.  "Dry, my baby, dry, dry."
Looking downstream. "Dry, my baby, dry, dry."
Credit: mouse from merced

And there were several other birds down there beneath the roadway.
What might could be a swallow with a meal.  There were no babies in th...
What might could be a swallow with a meal. There were no babies in the nests yet.
Credit: mouse from merced
Swallowsí nests donít exactly abound down there in the shade of the bridge,:
Iíve seen them lots of other places outside of town and up in Mariposa County
where every inch of space is occupied by mud nests.
There are just a couple of dozen nests under the G St. Bridge.

Itís not exactly the Chinatown of the swallow world under the bridge:
Itís more like a Hooverville of the homeless.
I shot no shots of the junk that the homeless have left under the bridge--
the upper tier is a hidden eyesore.
Probably a swallow.
Probably a swallow.
Credit: mouse from merced
Outta here...you had your shot!
Outta here...you had your shot!
Credit: mouse from merced

I left the tripod behind where Iíd set it up:
I started looking for good angles on some other small birds,
moving upstream from the bridge in the drying muck,
balancing on chunks of concrete and asphalt,
using just my hands and feet but wishing for a ski pole or stave all the same,
knowing full well that I should probably be wearing a helmet,
but I was being an idiot.

BIRDWATCHING CAN BE DANGEROUS!
WATCH THE BIRDIES AT YOUR OWN RISK!

I took several shots of one swallow trying to swallow an insect--
at least I think it was a swallow.
Then I got a look at a hawk, maybe a redtail, but I donít know.
I donít know birdsí names much.
Iím better with clouds: Cyrus, Nimbus, Calmyoulownumbis, and Anne Ville.

I managed to get a couple of decent shots of that hawk,
but the bird was almost directly above me
and they came out much lighter than they ought to have been.
Plus, I was afraid of getting hawk-shat.
And I wasnít wearing a helmet.
But neither was the hawk.

I went to the library next day, the 25th, and got the Sibley Bird Book.
I still havenít identified the hawk but can ID the book just fine.

3/26 happened slow and uneventful, but the Prudential sent my $34.50 pension check.
I cashed out $40 from checking and went to the store this morning,
bought some food, came home, ate some food, went to sleep,
woke, ate some more food, went to sleep,
woke, ate some more food and took some pics of the end of the day.

And then rSin called: Iím talking him into coming to the Facelift this fall.
He is doiní like Iím doiní, hanginí in.
He has his horror story of hernia surgery, much worse than my story.
He makes me feel like a pussy.

Iíve finished the Apaloosa story and have a Jack Reacher novel going.

The 29th is my momís birthday and Jeffís and Nana and Grandadís.

The redbud should be blooming in the Merced Canyon right now, maybe the poppies, too.
I used to gather a bundle on the way down to Merced to celebrate her day.

*sigh*

Oh, for lost days...
Sunset on the windy 24th of March.
Sunset on the windy 24th of March.
Credit: mouse from merced


APOLOGY FOR AN UNINTERESTING LIFE

Sitting in the breeze from the window
Egging on thoughts only half-thought
I notice in a picture of the flag down below
There are abrasions on the pole which are wrought
By metal clasps which secure the flags to the rope.

Each groove reaches around either side of the pole
Which doesnít seem to be worse for the action of the wind
But over some interval of time this action will weaken it
But probably not before several sets of clasps
Are worn out in the process.

My body has aged in a similar way
The aches and the pains Iíve noticed each day
Have gradually caused the erosion of me
The old me is gone a new me is now
And I wonder what became of the old me

Iím locked up in my memories
Along with othersósome are dead--
They and I are locked forevermore up in my head
And maybe I could bring them out to share
Except for one thing--a new thing

I wonít because personal history is now proscribed
No one cares that theyíve all died--
For there is no one left to care--
And Iím the one left here and now itís heaven
With no one to bother with and no one to account to or for

ďAllĒ alone I sit and draw with a stick in the dirt
Pictures which show all the love and the hurt
Of a misspent youth and a misspent maturity
From two marriages two grade sixes
And several presidential elections and energy crises

Throw in the daily rumors of war
The sunrises and sunsets Iíve seen
The newspapers read and the books checked out
And the things looked into and the things done without
It all adds up to a simple box score and nothing more

It is as impersonal and uninteresting a history as it could be
Documented facts with no humanity attached
And no clue as to what happens at the end
No foreshadowing but with some foreshortening
And in plain old black and white

But I donít mean to sound negative
Because there is always tomorrow, Scarlett
Tomorrow is another day, Rhett.
Tomorrow is another day, Rhett.
Credit: mouse from merced
Timid TopRope

Social climber
the land of Pale Ale
Apr 2, 2015 - 07:10am PT
Good luck getting your hernia fixed. I had mine fixed when I was 4 or 5 and still in working order.
OK......Just like around here you have HOUSE SPARROWS taking over Cliff swallow nests. Nothing bugs a birder or a botanist like boldly misidentified species that can be easily looked up on the Internet.
....end of rant....
...flame on........
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Apr 2, 2015 - 07:13am PT
fae,
thanks.
You put me to shame, as does TT, with your knowledge of our avian friends.
I love your verbal "photos," just as good as anyone's anywhere.

This is today. Just less than five minutes ago.
The wind blew my focus all to hell.  It's an icy wind, the sky is tota...
The wind blew my focus all to hell. It's an icy wind, the sky is totally clear, and March is OVER...but still up to its reputation for going out like a lion. Or is it like a lamb? I never get that right.
Credit: mouse from merced

They say there'll be a lunar eclipse the 4th of April.
This was the Lady Selene early this morning when I woke up.
Yep, those are moonbeams she's casting.
Yep, those are moonbeams she's casting.
Credit: mouse from merced

St. Junian, please whisper in His ear and ask for snow.

The Clark Range on Monday.
The Clark Range on Monday.
Credit: mouse from merced
"No snow for you, California!"--the snow nazi

Mamma pigeon on her two eggs.  She lives one floor down behind the ele...
Mamma pigeon on her two eggs. She lives one floor down behind the electrical ducting on the outside of the building.
Credit: mouse from merced
A few days back I found this one stuck temporarily in the fifth floor'...
A few days back I found this one stuck temporarily in the fifth floor's landing for the inside fire escape. She'd been so flustered she laid an egg on the concrete steps, which broke.
Credit: mouse from merced
What's in YOUR gullet?
What's in YOUR gullet?
Credit: mouse from merced
I'm heading across the street to the Cinema Cafe for an El Capitan omelet.

Chow, baby!
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Apr 2, 2015 - 08:26am PT
Wow what a colorful shot, Tastes like chicken?


For some that flying thing is no joy to behold at any range.

As you know wanna buy a duck has a ring to it !
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
also my family chore for twenty years included ridding roof tops of pigeons, poop and all.

A thankless 'lob job' that you can not pay anyone to do.

that was still on the calendar for this spring, now rescheduled for the fall.

Woe will I be, if the carcass duty falls to me - do ya' follow me 'honey?

it would be a sweet spot to be in prison with all the trappings but reduced to the town slum dwelling,
land lord of the same slums, was a very ugly 'Big House" with no upside and no parole.

Cleaning roof tops , striking nets and yankin' nests was gross work, enough.

man kind.
Cosmiccragsman

Trad climber
AKA Dwain, from Apple Valley, Ca. and Vegas!
Apr 2, 2015 - 08:30am PT
Hey Gnome;
How much do you get paid for doing those, Travelocity Commercials?

;-)
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Apr 2, 2015 - 08:37am PT
I have to say I'm trying to grab a clip of that shitt I was a stand-in for my boy there, He does represent!!
I don't surf as zb will confirm. although I have form,
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
`the small one is at the elementary school, the full size town mascot
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
is next to the Bar and family beach.
zBrown

Ice climber
BrujÚ de la Playa
Apr 2, 2015 - 08:46am PT
I always wondered, but this guy was kind enough to identify them for me.



A strange fact many of you may not know. I went to my brother's doctor once and he told me I had a hernia and scheduled me for immediate surgery.

I didn't go. Strangely enough my hernia apparently operated on itself, since it never has bothered me since. I do not recommend this doctor to anyone though.

Then again, maybe it's just on hiatus.

mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Apr 2, 2015 - 08:52am PT
All images from the internest...
Credit: GI
Credit: GI
Credit: GI

I would like to vacation in Haitus:
Though it's a poor country it's history is about as old as the idea of a NEW WORLD.
Horses and guides stand ready to take visitors up the steep mountain p...
Horses and guides stand ready to take visitors up the steep mountain path that leads to the Citadelle Laferriere in northern Haitus.
Credit: GI
Famed buffet lunch at Visa Lodge includes stuffed squash, pickled slaw...
Famed buffet lunch at Visa Lodge includes stuffed squash, pickled slaw/cabbage, seafood gumbo over rice, seafood pizza, avocado and tomato salad.
Credit: GI
But no fish tacos, s'il vous plait.
How high's the water, Pappa Doc?
How high's the water, Pappa Doc?
Credit: Wiki
Doctor Duvalier hated fish tacos.

zBrown

Ice climber
BrujÚ de la Playa
Apr 2, 2015 - 09:47am PT
Chicken Snake (not the band)



Two-headed Ostrich Snake



It's not a dog eat dog world afterall (can I get that taco to go?)

zBrown

Ice climber
BrujÚ de la Playa
Apr 2, 2015 - 10:08am PT
The Grateful Dead - Workingman's Dead (1970) - Album Cover Location
1199 Evans Avenue - Hunter's Point - San Francisco

How do I know? This guy who is apparently not rich, but still quite persistent told me. The Flames or Dead thread? It's a toss up, may have to hock my sailor suit to get that coin.

http://www.popspotsnyc.com/workingmans_dead/


Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
Apr 2, 2015 - 11:29am PT
taken just minutes ago
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
still i do love to go
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
with the crow, ah . . . Ravern.
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
&
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Apr 2, 2015 - 12:20pm PT
A Hawk by any name still likes street skating.
The hawk above Bear Creek...omitted by omission from my dairy entry ab...
The hawk above Bear Creek...omitted by omission from my dairy entry above.
Credit: mouse from merced
There's a new breed in town: the parropigeon.
Seismic &#40;above&#41; and Clocker &#40;at bottom&#41;.
Seismic (above) and Clocker (at bottom).
Credit: mouse from merced
This is a pigeon which is equipped to live in actual trees, not just on rocks or buildings. Like the parrots and macaws and toucans.

I'd put this on the Birds thread, but certain rock 'n' roll stars might object.
I think Gnome's moon shot looks like some kind of egg.

Almost eggsackley.
zBrown

Ice climber
BrujÚ de la Playa
Apr 2, 2015 - 12:51pm PT
Bird in the hand? Some folks just like to show off. Poor birds, apparently living from hand to mouth.

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