The city doesn't seem so dirty from a distance. We hiked up to the peak of one of the foothills and stared out across the Bay Area today. I'm not sure why they even bother dividing the whole mess up into different cities. There are no actual boundaries. No inbetween places. It's all kind of melted together like wax from a candle left burning too long. The hills are not safe either. The rich people flee from the mess below because they have the money to do so. They use this money to build mansions in the hills, ruining the view in much the same way dead insects smeared across a windshield obstruct one's view of the road. Or like grubby little handprints all over a tv screen. You get the idea. Kick the rich out of the hills. Wildflowers are nicer to look at.

I feel like I'm getting more done at work this week. I know the trails a bit better now, and it hasn't been raining as much. My field group is pretty good too. Most of them, anyway. Yesterday, we even did some water testing, discovering that the pH level in the creek is just a bit too far from neutral - 8.6. We managed to get a campfire roaring in the waterlogged fire pit as well, by building a log platform in the middle of it so the fire would be elevated.
Today we slopped around on muddy trails, even stopping to paint our faces with some particularly inviting mud. The stars were out for the night hike, although light pollution from nearby cities erased much of the eastern sky.

I'd love to be up in the hills during a total blackout. The night is never really dark otherwise.

I'm feeling a vague sense of inspiration right now. I want to get more things done. I want to improve myself. I want to clean the house. I want to have more money in the bank. I want to spend more quality time with my family. I want to get back to drawing things on a regular basis. The problem is that I'm always either too busy or too tired. Such is the way of things.

I've been slacking off on the drawing lately. Waiting for more inspiration to hit, I guess. That said, here's one I did at work some time back...

Jen took Willow to her cardiology appointment today and the doctor found nothing wrong with her heart. It seems that the blue tinge on her lips and fingers may be caused by her being cold. Contributing factors are her fair skin and low blood pressure (she takes after her mother in that regard, not me). We're going to keep a close eye on her anyway, of course, but it's good that there's no immediate danger of any sort.

Nate seems to be coming down with strep throat now. Lexy puked in the sink earlier. The kids rampaged through an entire box of 24 popsicles in about as many hours, leaving little sticky patches all over. Most of our supply of parmesan cheese ended up on the train table, not to be confused with the laundry soap sprinkled on the floor and in Willow's hair. Routine maintainance is never routine around here. There's always some new sort of mess. Willow cussed earlier too. My fault. I was reacting to the laundry soap incident.

Lexy has strep throat, and I've got the first snifflings of what I hope is only a cold. At any rate, I'm staying home with Lexy tomorrow so Jen can take Willow to her cardiology appointment. It's too bad that I'll miss the last day of camp this week, but my kids are more important to me. That's not to say that the ones I teach aren't important, because they most certainly are. I just have to prioritize, that's all...

Today our group hiked up to a pond overlooking the reservoir I used to hang out at as a teenager. The water level in the reservoir was as high as I've ever seen it, and the pond looked like it was filled to above capacity as well. The sun came and went behind clouds, keeping the temperature at an agreeable level. The trail, which I'd never been on before, was peppered with piles of scat, probably from coyotes and bobcats, and the hillsides occasionally revealed sprinklings of wildflowers.




You can tell when deer are nervous. It's all in the angle of the head.





With toads, it's a little harder to tell, unless you pick one up. A nervous toad will pee on you. This one was no exception.




All of this grass will be brown in another month or two. For now, it's nice to see the contrast between ground and sky played out with such vibrant colors.

Willow's lips and fingers have occasionally developed a purplish hue over the last few weeks. This has been worrying us. Willow herself doesn't show any other symptoms. She runs and laughs and bounces. She tells endless streams of "knock-knock" jokes without punchlines. In short, she acts quite healthy. None of the doctors who've seen her have any idea why this sporadic purplishness is happening. She's got an appointment with a cardiologist on friday who may help shed some light on this for us. Until then we'll worry.

Work goes on, of course. This week I'm working at a different site. There are no Redwoods, but more than enough Poison Oak bushes to make up for it. The trails meander through Oak woodlands and chaparral. A chocolate colored, rain swollen creek rushes blindly by. The rain itself has been falling off and on for days now, turning the trails into miniature creeks. I'm having a great time though. All of the trails are new to me, which makes every hike an adventure. The kids in my group are great, even when they have to slop through the mud and lean and duck as we wind our way up trails overgrown with Poison Oak. The camp routine is slightly different as well, which keeps me alert. The night hike tonight was bright with reflected light. At the end of it all the moon finally poked through the clouds, followed by a couple of stars. Maybe tomorrow the rain will hold off. I've been reluctant to give the kids any time to work on their journals because of all the rain and mud, so a respite would be nice. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Last week ended with the usual frenzied rush to accomplish many things. I now have new brakes on the car, which didn't set me back too much. I also have a new power steering belt. Apparently, the old one was about to disintegrate. I've been going to the same garage for awhile now, and trust them not to make this stuff up. They could have though, and I'd be none the wiser.

Saturday, Nate and Lexy both went to birthday parties. The one Lexy went to was a sleepover, and he made it through the night without calling home. I went to a birthday party as well, as an entertainer of course. The thirty dollar tip was nice. I've been depending on tip money to buy the occasional cd, so it is quite important that people tip me.

The evening brought about the welcome return of Sleepytime Gorilla Museum to their home base. Their end-of-tour show was at The Independent in San Francisco (or the club formerly known as the Justice League formerly known as the Kennel Club...). They were brilliant, as usual. This time around the festivities included a puppet show and a very important lecture about the Monkey Face Eel. Value for your money. I even spent some of my birthday tip on the new Charming Hostess cd. Unfortunately, the show didn't let out until well after 1 am. I was glad that they played as long as they did, but less than pleased about the amount of sleep I was going to get. While driving across the Bay Bridge to drop G off in Berkeley, we narrowly avoided an accident. A car in the lane to the right of us merged into the side of a car in the next lane over, causing both cars to bounce and screech across all lanes like pinballs on their way to meet the flippers. I slowed down enough so that one car shot across the lanes in front of us and the other one careened leftward behind us. Both cars struck the guardrail to the left. We crunched through bits of glass and plastic left in our lane, and continued. I checked to make sure other cars were stopping before continuing. My rationale for not stopping myself was that the cellphone was at home and I currently have no CPR training. In short, any assistance I could give would probably be next to useless. Not to mention that there is really no safe place to stop mid-span. I still had a two hour drive in front of me as well. I deposited G in Berkeley, and M in Felton before finally getting home at 4 am.

At 7 am I got up and went to work at the same place I work during the week. Instead of teaching, I helped supervise the community service people who come up to clean the site. I think that they're all people who got popped for DUI. I got payed time and a half for my end of things, while they all worked for free. That's what they get for drinking. One of the main tasks that needed seeing to was the splitting of an entire Oak tree into fireplace sized logs. The tree itself had been cut down after it died (possibly Sudden Oak Death). With the aid of a wood splitter (a gas powered hydraulic plate that forces logs against a steel wedge) we processed about three cords of wood, which I am told is around six hundred dollars worth. Now we have plenty of wood for campfires.

That night I fell asleep early.

Today I mostly watched kids while Jen shuttled around to various appointments. I'm only doing four days of science school this week, starting tomorrow. It's at the other site too, which means all of the trails will be new to me. It's supposed to rain too.

Tonight I almost plunged us into the dark ages by tripping over one of the cords attached to the computer. It made the damn thing freeze up, but after several tries at restarting it, we managed to revive it. It made me reflect on how much time I spend online. I used to be quite content without this. Oh, the insidious influence of modern conveniences! None of them are really necessary to our lives. Not microwaves. Not cellphones. Not computers. But here we are anyway, plugged in and loving it. But it bothers me. Maybe we need another dark age.

A co-worker pointed me in the direction of this moth, sitting silently on a wall and waiting for twilight so it could flit mindlessly around the nearest electrical light source.




The kids this week are fifth graders, which means they're talkative, neurotic, and don't like holding each others' hands during games that require it. One kid has hemophilia, so I keep worrying he's going to fall and hurt himself. Another kid fancies himself a professional lizard catcher. He tends to see things that don't exist, probably for the attention that it brings him. To his credit, he has caught a couple of different kinds of lizards and discovered a few other interesting things as well. He doesn't always get along well with the other kids though.

Yesterday's night hike was interesting too. There was something rustling in the bushes near where we sat down in the woods. Nearby Owls were engaging in a vigorous hooting contest. The kids were a bit nervous. This abated when we got to the telescopes set up on the lower field and looked at the moon and Saturn.

I'm not sure which kid first saw the baby Rattlesnake in the middle of the trail. Half of the group had already passed by when somebody shouted, "snake!". I ran back to look, fully expecting to find a baby Rattlesnake since it was almost exactly the same spot on the trail where I'd relocated one last November. I wasn't disappointed.




It's a good thing nobody picked it up.

At home, The Dickens is recovering from a couple of days of puking. She's still a bit listless, which is really odd for her. Hopefully nobody else will get it.

Don't you hate when you're trying to read and scorpions start running all over you? It's distracting.

Sunday evening again. Time has chewed up the weekend and spit the remains into the compost pile of the past. I still have clear memories of it being Friday afternoon and watching the pollen leave the trees in little puffs, knowing that it would all end in sneezing for somebody. Allergy season is indeed upon us. It's even affecting me this year. Mildly though.

Saturday I did a couple of parties. The first one was nice, being in a backyard full of attentive kids, and being at the home of people who remembered to tip for good service. The second one was out in the boonies, did not have parking in front, took place in a crowded garage, was attended by children who were unfazed by any attempts to get them to focus, and resulted in no tip. Oh well. I drowned my sorrows by spending my tip money on a triple cd of bands nobody has ever heard of paying tribute to a wide range of science fiction films.

That night, Jen took some needed time off and went to a party while I stayed home with the kids. We all stayed up too late. Certain members of this household refuse to go to sleep unless their mom is here. Lexy held out the longest, finally conking out sometime between 1 and 2 in the morning.

Today Willow, Jen, and I headed for the hills. We soon found out that the only way to get Willow past the muddy bits was to pick her up and run with her.

We went up to the reservoir today. A few of the students found the hike tiring, but a couple of the boys who seemed to have been straining at the leash all weak had a great time. In fact, pretty much everyone had a great time. The reptiles and amphibians were out and about enjoying the warm Spring weather too.

Here's an Alligator Lizard perched on top of my hat. Just today I realized that they're sort of sausage shaped. Poor things.




And now, feeelthy peectures of ampheeebians. There were long strings of toad eggs in the water as well, and over where the ground got shady and marshy, I must have frightened off about fifty young Bullfrogs. Splashing and rustling everywhere.




Finally, here's a shot of the largest Garter Snake we found today. It was sitting right in the middle of the trail that follows the shoreline of the reservoir. One of the girls almost stepped on it. Later, we almost stepped on another one. Fortunately no actual stepping occurred.




In all, we found four Garter Snakes (two of them babies), One Alligator Lizard, countless Fence Lizards, multitudes of mating Toads, one baby Toad, and more small Bullfrogs than one would think possible. Out in the reservoir, Cormorants croaked at us.

Another warm one today. The turtles were paddling around in the pond and the frogs were silently sitting, waiting for the night so they could sing. Three more kids were added to my group due to yet another staff member becoming ill. Always room for more, I say. We hiked up the creek and down some trails, stopping here and there to look at fungus and amphibians. We even found a small, upset Ringneck snake on one of the trails. I'm not sure if somebody accidently kicked it or if it was mad just because we were walking by, but it was in full defensive pose with its tail flipped upside down and corkscrewed to show off the bright orange/red of its underside. I picked it up and inspected it for damage, but it seemed okay. Just mad. I let one of the new girls release it along the side of the trail, where it quickly disappeared into the grass.

For the night hike, the frogs were indeed singing. Above us, finally, we could see stars. After several weeks of cloudy skies, this was a treat. The fact that the evening was moonless helped as well. Now if we could just get all of the people to turn off their lights. Maybe somebody should monkeywrench some power plants. It would make it much easier to stargaze.

Between hikes, I had to come home so I could dispose of the rat that the python killed but did not eat a couple of days ago. I hadn't noticed it was still in the cage, but it soon made its presence felt by stinking up the house. The damn thing was swollen up to almost the size of a football. It reminded me of this taxidermied rat up at the Youth Science Institute - the one that kids always wanted to throw around because it too resembled a football.

Lovely.

Today was the first hot day of the year. It probably didn't get much past the mid-70s, but it was enough to entice all of the Fence Lizards out onto their favorite basking spots. The amphibians grumpily stuck to the shade, but this didn't stop me from finding four different varieties - all of the usual suspects of course. I even found the one-eyed California Newt that I encounter once a month or so. He looks healthy. The tadpoles in the glorified puddle out in the chaparral might be in trouble though. All of this sun might dry things up before they ever get to become frogs.

The kids this week are big sixth graders. A couple of them are nearly as tall as I am. Six foot sixth graders. What next? They seem like a well behaved group so far. More mature than last week's fifth graders anyway.

This evening after work I took Lexy and Nate to see a program on Orcas at their school. It turned out to be a slide/video show run by a really animated guy with a headset microphone. He was obviously passionate about his subject matter, and managed to make it interesting and accessible for all ages. Some of his anecdotes were quite funny too. He mentioned spotting a pair of Orcas playing frisbee with a Stingray, and Orcas tendency to mess with the minds of whale watchers. One of the sadder notes of the evening was his explanation about how first born Orca babies often die due to the accumulation of toxins in the mother's milk. The nursing action of these babies cleans out the mother's system so that subsequent babies can survive.

Oh, and don't call them "Killer Whales." It's a misnomer. He demonstrated that whenever somebody says this, you should react with a sharp intake of breath and a scholarly finger tap to your chin, while informing them that they're quite uneducated. Sounds fun.

That said, their scientific name, Orcinus Orca, means something like "messenger from the realm of the dead." Hurrah!

The school cafeteria was really packed, and the kids had a great time, although Lexy did complain a bit about having to walk there and back.

I've never been one to succumb to Seasonal Affective Disorder (aka SAD). In fact, I love Winter, whether it be pelting rain or frost-crusted landscapes. This is at least partially due to the aesthetic pleasure I take from anything gloomy. That said, I do love the first days of springlike weather every year. There's something about finally going outside in a t-shirt that has a positive effect on my psyche.

Jen, Willow, and I spent the day languidly doing errands, performing household tasks, and enjoying the weather and each other's company. We went to the library, a record store (where I used some of yesterday's tip money to buy the new Six Organs of Admittance cd), and a pet store. It felt good. The cycle of the seasons, especially during in-between times like Spring and Autumn, reminds me that not everything is passing rudely by at 100 mph. Life should be lived slowly, with attention to detail. Most often it is not.

We all went to Hidden Villa today to wander around in the sunlight and look at baby pigs. This where we go when we feel the need for recharging. It's like walking uphill through the stream of time, back to a space where life unfolds at a crawl, rather than a reckless run. It does wonders for one's state of mind, especially when the pressure of modern life starts to crush sinew and bone.
The flowers are blooming everywhere. The baby pigs frolic in the mud while somehow managing to stay relatively clean. A large skink peeked out from behind loose bark on a tree stump. Other families wandered around, more tentative about stomping in puddles than ours.

Here's Willow reacting to small pigs.




And here's Hidden Villa's resident turtle, still in the pond where we relocated it a couple of summers ago. The pond and the turtle are both covered with Duckweed, which is a non-native, invasive species. It also tends to make ponds look like lawns. I remember leading a tour past this pond and being too late in preventing an enthusiastic kindergartener from jumping on the "lawn." He got quite wet.




And finally, here's Willow making sure that the water in every puddle she passes is displaced.




She was quite sad when it was time to leave, but Nate had to get to a party, and so did I. Of course, Nate was going as a guest and I was going as a performer. I got tipped $40 too, which helps with the budget somewhat.

Today was long hike day. I've had a fluctuating number of kids this week due to people switching groups and instructors being ill. One kid spent the first couple of days this week trying to convince everybody to send him home because he was homesick. He finally told one of the teachers that the only way he would stay was if he could be transferred to my group. I can't take any credit here - he just wanted to be with his friend, who just happened to be in my group. Today and yesterday we had to split up the groups of coworkers who were absent due to illness. That meant that everybody got extra kids. Then of course there's the little girl with arthritis, who has to expend twice as much energy as the other kids when she walks. She never complains and has a great attitude, but often gets piggyback rides from teachers or cabin leaders when she gets tired and sore. She has missed a couple of classes just so she could rest. Today her mom came and took her out to lunch, so she missed the long hike. It's just as well, because we hiked for hours and ascended about a thousand feet in elevation. I missed her though.
We ended up making pretty good time, and covered a lot of ground. The skies were cloudy but the rain held off. The homesick boy and his friend proved to have the baldest shoes I've ever seen. They spent most of the downhill portion of the hike slipping and giggling about it. It's a good thing they didn't end up in a ravine. Kids are funny.

After I got home, the rain started. Tomorrow is supposed to be rainy as well. I had originally planned to go to some concerts this weekend, but one got cancelled and another sold out. Not that I can really afford it anyway. There's always plenty to do around here.

In the Autumn, male Tarantulas leave their burrows in search of mates. But in early March, they apparently leave their burrows in order to communicate with each other via walkie-talkie. What they discuss in unknown.