Windows to Other Worlds

Today is a lazy Sunday, with gray skies occasionally sprinkling us with rain. I actually went to a Christmas party last night, where good food and good conversation was had. It was up in the hills of Oakland, and I had to brave rush hour traffic (on a Saturday? What the hell?) to get there, and later got stuck in traffic behind a couple of accidents on the way to drop Greg off at another party.

Willow is back from her girl scout camping/sleepover. Not sure what else we'll do today.

Here is a picture of a collection of ideas. Books are windows to other worlds.

While We Sleep

Despite not having to work, I more or less stayed awake all night last night, first reading and then tossing and turning until a rainy sunrise glowed through the gaps in the curtains. Then, I slept until noon.

Sometime while I was sleeping, Jeanine took these pictures. By the time I had gotten up, she had left for work, but the photos awaited me in my inbox.

On an unrelated note, here's a close-up of the freezer door. Magnetic surfaces sure end up cluttered.

A leaden blanket of clouds was visible to the north before sunset, and rain is promised. I didn't get out of bed until 5:00 PM today, and I feel like I'm coming down with a cold. I'm done with work until after Christmas.

I've been working on the caramel flavored coffee that Jeanine got me for my birthday, using a mug that she got me sometime earlier, all while bathed in the harsh light of my desk lamp.

It's already time to go lock the chicken coop for the night. I should have gotten up earlier, especially since I'm going to be on a daytime schedule for at least a couple of weeks.

Yule Be Sorry, Or Maybe Not

When I was young, it was always important to me to find the biggest Christmas tree possible (my reasoning went something like: bigger tree = more room for presents), and that notion stuck with me for much of my adult life. I was somewhat cured of it when I lived in a studio apartment, since a big tree meant that not only was there less room for presents, but less room to get in and out of the front door and move around the living space.

For the last couple of years, we've just been using Jeanine's little plastic tree, and strangely, it doesn't bother me. It's cheaper and easier, and when it's lit up, it looks just fine. Expediency trumps tradition. The holiday season seems shorter every year, although if one bases the beginning of the season upon when the advertising starts, it is actually getting longer and longer.

Tonight is my last night of work for the year (barring a little bit of work as site supervisor for a meditation group renting our site between Christmas and New Year's Eve).

Cornered

My photos tend to be more for documentary purposes than artistic ones. The light is usually dead by the time I get out of bed, making even the indoor photos less interesting, artistically speaking. Occasionally, one or two photos might approach being art. The photo below isn't one of them.

This is Jeanine's corner. It's beautifully crammed with all sorts of stuff, especially right now because of the upcoming holidays.

Knick-Knacks

This is the last week of camp for the year, and so far it has been a chilly one, with ice on windshields and clouds of breath surrounding our faces as we walk. I have to wake up three kids each night this week in the interest of keeping their beds dry, which is more than the average for the school year so far. It has actually been a pretty easy year, as far as wake-up calls are concerned.

One night down, three more to go. Jeanine and I both have mild colds.

Casting about for something inside to photograph, my eyes alighted upon our strange knick-knack shelves up near the ceiling in the kitchen. It's a true marriage of items from our separate pasts, and they fit well together. Whimsy dictated that I do some extreme monkeying with the contrast, making the resulting photo resemble a panel from an unsettling graphic novel.

Inspired by my friend Otter's great photos, I've got my eyes on some photo software. Otter showed me a program called Lightroom, which looks interesting. For some reason, I always dilly-dally when it comes to making these types of purchases though. I want to get some music software too. Will I? I'm not altogether sure. I probably need a new laptop first. Mine is getting cranky. Jeanine suggests that I just use Willow's laptop, since last Christmas Willow got two; one from her mom and one from me. I don't think she has touched the one I got her in months, preferring to immerse herself in her iPod and iPad.

Heartening/Disheartening

In thinking up new writing challenges to keep me interested in regularly posting here, I came up with the idea of sharing either the most disheartening and/or the most heartening thing I come across on a daily basis. Perhaps I'll post in opposite pairs, or perhaps I'll do a whole month of the former, followed by a whole month of the latter.

I mention this because today I saw this article. It takes the grand prize for the most disheartening thing I'm likely to see today, and I've only been up for an hour now. This means that the people of the town of Woodland, North Carolina, have a collective IQ lower than that of the handsome lizard pictured below.

Rain

I was up in Oakland for some music last night, and when I exited the venue shortly before 1:00 AM, the ground was wet. I got hit by a couple bursts of rain as I drove home too. It rained in the South Bay this morning, although I slept through most of it.

We had some sun in the afternoon, and I took some photos of our backyard wildlife. Right after I finished, there was a sudden downpour.

This squirrel is eating an avocado while sitting in a persimmon tree. That just seems like too much work for me.

Sage Advice

This is Mexican Sage, which is not only drought tolerant, but appealing to hummingbirds. Jeanine got some cuttings from a friend, and they seem to be doing really well.

It's a good plant to have in the yard during times of drought. I can't remember the last time we actually watered them. I wish the rosemary was doing as well.

Mask

To a certain extent, we all wear masks. Jeanine puts some of hers on the wall.

Our walls are full of strangeness. Our decorating preferences aren't very "grown-up", meaning that we tend to be whimsical in our approach to our surroundings. Sure, it also means that the house is often messy looking, which may be an entirely different issue.

Rain

It started raining in the middle of the night last night, and it is raining again now. I slept until almost 4:00 PM today, so it was already starting to get dark by the time I was vertical.

Here are a pair of photos celebrating the rain. The first is a view looking out the window in the front door. The motion sensor porch light, either activated by a package being dropped on the front step or the blustery wind whipping the nearby bushes around, provides a warm glow.

The second is a view from the back door into the yard. There is something satisfying about being warm and dry while looking out into a rainy night. I try not to take this for granted. It's always good to remember that wistful feeling one gets when walking in the rain past a warmly lit-up window.

House of the Rising Sun

Out my window, I see a blue sky, painted with a few white wisps of cloud. A lone dove is perched on a power line, perhaps expelled from the covey lining the wires farther up and away. Brian the kitten has just been kicked out of my lap for biting.

Here is the sky at camp. I took the picture right before waking the kids up with some delicately-played trombone music.

Once I got home, I got a rare picture of Dexter and Brian sitting quietly together while they waited for Jeanine to come back in from letting the chickens out. Speaking of chickens, our one remaining rooster, Noodle Soup, finally started to crow. I heard him at midnight the other night, so not only is he crowing, but doing so at strange, random times. Jeanine immediately set the wheels turning to re-home him, and he now lives in Modesto with a flock. That leaves one bird, a chicken named Shelly, from the batch that hatched from Safeway eggs awhile back. We're keeping her because she is quiet. Loose lips sink ships, or perhaps, flappy beaks cause leaks...

It's Better To Light A Candle...

We're closing in on the shortest day of the year, and this week, early sunset is joined by uniformly grey skies, making the afternoons gloomy affairs indeed.

I love it.

There are not many better things than lighting a candle or two in the early evening (in this case, one candle with two wicks) and putting on some appropriately autumnal music. The soundtrack to these small flames was one of the newest Time Released Sound releases, Olga Wojciechowska's "Map and Mazes".

Survivor

For this overcast Monday, I present to you a gargoyle. This is the only thing I own that broke during the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. It was shaken from its perch and decapitated in the fall. Note the sloppy glue job and missing chips of gargoyle skin.

I suppose this serves as a reminder that more earthquakes lurk around the corner. At least our earthquakes are natural, not like the ones in Oklahoma.

Conspicuous Consumption

Our house if full of shelves, including this one.

Where music is concerned, I never made the jump from physical to digital downloads. Being a resident of the real world, I like to hold objects in my hand. I like to look at lyric sheets and flip through CD booklets. This means there are shelves of records, CDs, and even cassettes peppered throughout the house. I plan on cutting back on my music expenditures, because it's one area of my life that is somewhat out of control. I'm also aware that, as an environmentalist, it's a bit hypocritical of me to insist on owning physical objects made of plastic and paper when I could acquire music through the aether. Humans are weird.

I now notice that this particular shelf needs dusting. The various objects sharing space with the CDs are mostly gifts. At least my CD shelves create extra space to display favorite knick-knacks.

Hiding

I got up early this morning so I could take Willow to the flea market, where she hawked unwanted items with her girl scout troop so they could fund future excursions. We stayed up sort of late last night because we were celebrating my birthday, so it wasn't fun getting up before dawn. After I dropped Willow off, I came back home and climbed back into bed for a few hours.

A beautiful sunrise helped compensate for the lack of sleep.

On an unrelated note, here is a picture of Dexter, "hiding".

Corbies

This is the time of year when the crows rediscover the neighbor's persimmon tree. Sometimes, the tree is blanketed with a whole murder, but today there were only two (or should I say, twa?) corbies. Unlike the pair in the old Scottish ballad, these two didn't even have to discuss what they were going to eat.

There are persimmons in yon auld fail tree
I wot we can have them all for free...

Oh, and happy birthday to me.

If I Fits, I Sits

This time of year, there are more boxes than usual. Dexter takes full advantage of this.

It rained today, although I missed it because I was asleep. I got to watch a nice sunrise though, with dark clouds blowing toward a date with dissolution.

Eggs In One Basket

I'm in the middle of the first of the final three camp weeks for the year. We have 206 kids, which means an extra room has been converted into a cabin (really more of a dorm than a proper cabin, I suppose, but "cabin" sounds more camp-like). I've been telling stories in the morning because Scooby, who usually does it, isn't around this week. I keep meaning to record them, but haven't gotten around to it. One of the stories exists in written form, but it has changed enough through constant retelling that it's virtually unrecognizable from its origins.

Willow is out seeing One Direction and Five Seconds of Summer tonight. She keeps worrying about something she calls "Post Concert Depression", which is her way of describing the feeling of sadness after the concert, long anticipated, is over. It's almost like she makes up things to feel sad about. I've never once felt sad after seeing live music. Kids these days are funny.

Here is a photographic reminder to disperse one's eggs. These are real chicken eggs, and although the basket is really a miniature flower pot instead of a basket, I think the meaning is still clear. These eggs, being tiny and oddly shaped, are the reject pile. Most of them were laid by Penelope, who bequeaths us about one egg a year. Jeanine puts them in the pot, and they remain on the sill above the kitchen sink.

Here's a bonus photo of the sunrise, taken around 11 hours ago:

There was a nice sunset today too. It's nice to have a day book-ended with beauty.

Photos

It's December now, and at the end of the week, another year in my existence will have become memory. I'll be 48 years old. This page serves as somewhat of a memory vault, a place where I can keep track of things that I otherwise might have forgotten. I sometimes find myself scrolling through previous years, laughing at little things that I've recorded here. I wonder if this tendency will increase as I age.

It is cold right now, and rain is forecast for Thursday. I love this time of year.

I've decided to post a photo every day this month. At the moment, I'm thinking that the theme will be a photos taken at home. I'll start with a benighted view of where I now sit, taken just a moment ago.

Here is a bonus photo of Dexter, taken yesterday, or possibly the day before. These days, he looks huge when compared to Brian the kitten. He also has his winter coat, which makes him look excessively shaggy. Brian has been relentlessly terrorizing him, which is odd, considering that Dexter, if he had a mind to, could take Brian apart. He shows admirable restraint in not doing so.